#it's so over for me (literally the happiest i've ever been) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghost-proofbaby · 8 months ago

Note

Hi Ghosty!

Can I please have a blueberry summers solstice with Robin where her and the reader go on vacation with Robins parents but Robin still isn’t out to them yet so she makes the reader pretend to just be her “good friend” (sort of like the movie happiest season, but in the summer)

Thank you ily ♥️

giaa!!! thank you so much for your request, love <3 happiest season absolutely wrecked me at times because i've definitely had to endure a situation where i was the "good friend". naturally, this ending is sickly sweet and possibly unrealistic idk but... it's the kind of ending robin deserves <3

happiest summer

warnings: hurt/comfort, fear of coming out, the vaguest of vague mentions of past homophobia, and plenty of passing references to smut (none actually detailed), fem!reader. not edited. minors dni.

wc: 5.3k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

Things could be worse. Things could be so, so much worse.

It’s a mantra you have to repeat to yourself over and over the entire drive. A reassurance you try to express through squeezes of your girlfriend’s hand that cradles yours in the center console. A useless, pathetic reminder that can’t seem to really drill into your head as reality draws in closer.

Things could be worse, but that didn’t mean that this didn’t royally suck.

When Robin first introduced the idea of going on vacation with her parents, you’d been overjoyed. Bursting at the seams with all your excitement and immediate visions of spending quality time with your girlfriend’s family. A chance to make a good impression, a step in the right path towards the future. You hadn’t understood her blanched face as you’d agreed and immediately began rambling about it all – you hadn’t let her finish the entire proposition.

You were to go on vacation with Robin’s family, as her good friend.

Not as her girlfriend of several years that she’d met freshman year of college in the library, not as the woman she literally lives in a shared apartment with. You were to be introduced as nothing more than a best friend. An entire departure and erasure of the last four years, all for a weekend of supposed bliss with a family that didn’t even know the true Robin.

“You okay, babe?” Robin asks with a soft returning squeeze from her own hand, quickly bringing you back down to Earth.

You don’t really know if you’re okay. You’d probably need a dictionary definition of what it meant to be okay laid out in front of you, then several drinks, and then several Advils to take the edge off of your current headache before you could even ponder the question properly.

But you’re not about to burden the girl next to you with all your heavy feelings, choosing to lug them over your back as your own to carry before you smile sweetly just to lie right between your teeth, “Never been better.”

You have been better. You’d been so much better just this morning, when you’d woken up with Robin’s head between your thighs and her saccharine smile looking up at you from beneath the sheets. Before the world and this entire trip had been barrelling at you in full force.

But it’s fine. Things could be worse.

“I’m so excited for you to meet my folks,” Robin gushes as she takes her exit, sparing a quick glance in your direction, “I just know they’re going to love you. My dad makes the best scotcheroo bars, and- oh! Oh my God, did I ever mention how my mom is obsessed with puzzles? She probably brought at least twenty with her. I know it’s not the most exciting thing but if we at least try to do one with her for one of the nights, I just know she’ll be so happy, but also I understand if that sounds super fucking borin-”

“Robs,” you interrupt, leaning forward to look at her properly just as the car rolls to a pause at a red light, “I would love to do a puzzle with your mom. And I can’t wait to try your dad’s scotcheroos,” you bring her hand clutched in yours to your lip, and you take the time to let your lips brush across her knuckles, trying to savor the gesture while you still can, “I don’t care what we do this weekend, I’m just happy to be here. With you.”

She looks pretty like this. Eyes focused on you as her lashes flutter, a blush spreading across her cheeks as her lips are agape, watching you press each little peck across her skin. Hair still a bit messy from earlier during the drive when the two of you had the windows down, screaming along to Abba as she blazed down Highway 37.

Your lips twitch with a smile as you remember the way she didn’t even have her license when you met her, and you have to fully press your mouth to her hand to hide it.

“I’m happy to be here with you, too,” she whispers, voice edged with rasp as she refuses to take her eyes off of you.

Whenever she looks at you this way, it’s hard to not feel invincible. All the choking anxiety of the last hour’s drive finally tampers down with a sea of blue gazing at you with enough love to drown anyone, and resolve takes its place.

You could handle this. It was just one weekend at a lake house with her parents, playing pretend until the hours finally trickled by and you could return back home, immediately dropping the mask to love on your girlfriend in all the ways she deserves. To drown in blue eyes and honey lips until you were nothing but decay. It could all be worth it, whatever may be awaiting you for the next thirty six hours, when you could come back home with her.

It’s fine.

—

“Oh, aren’t you darling?”

“We’ve heard so much about you!”

“You’ve always been such a good friend to our Robin.”

Maybe, just maybe, you overestimated yourself.

The weekend was exactly what Robin had prepared you for. Her parents adored you, the family dog gave you sanctuary in any moments you’d felt the slightest bit awkward, and the view of the lake had been certainly to die for. You’ve had your fill of the best damn scotcheroos you’d ever tasted, you’d completed three puzzles with her mother, and you've seen more baby photos of Robin in the last two hours than you’ve seen of the woman herself as she helps her mom wash dishes in the kitchen. There’s a permanent musk of the lake lingering on your skin, covered with the chemicals of sunscreen reapplied religiously and sweetness of iced tea dripping down your chins after you made each other laugh too hard.

It’s almost picture perfect. If you close your eyes, it’s almost exactly as you’d always dreamed it.

Except you haven’t held Robin’s hand in two days. You haven’t had her lips pressed to yours in forty-eight hours, sticky from all the fresh fruit her mother’s been keeping on the counter for everyone. You haven’t been able to count the freckles across her chest as she strides over to you in her bikini, smiling brighter than the sun as droplets of the lake water shimmers across her skin.

It’s almost perfect, if perfect was a world in which you never knew the taste and touch of Robin Buckley.

There’s a gaping wound, an empty space at every table for every dinner at dusk, that you can’t ignore. No amount of polite conversation can fill it, no amount of private smiles from Robin across the room can bandage it. It demands to be seen; it cries out at every opportunity. When your hand twitched as you sat next to Robin on the couch to enjoy a movie, you’d felt it. When you’d had to bite your lip until it bled to avoid kissing her as she’d broken the surface of the lake in front of you the second afternoon during a much needed swim to cool off, you’d felt it.

Your bones and skin don’t just ache from the sun. Every atom in your body has been lit aflame, yearning for the girl who’s never felt further away.

“My mom was talking about taking a nature walk today,” Robin says as she sits on the edge of her bed to lace up her shoes. The two of you don’t even share a bed. Each night is ended in separate twin beds, on opposite sides of the room. More than just an ocean between you, “But it’s gonna be a hike – please dress for a hike. Every year she tries to trick me and say it’s just going to just be some casual bird watching, but then we end up walking uphill for a mile straight, and it’s miserable. Did you pack those boots like I warned you to?”

There’s a space there, too. An empty hole in the shape of the babe that would have slipped out so naturally if the two of you were back home.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “You already know you’re the only bird I wanna watch, Robin.”

You can’t even say the joke as loudly or proudly as you’d wanted to. It has to be nothing more than a whisper, words that get lost between the thin wooden planks making up the walls separating you and your friend from her parents.

You want to scream. You want to throw a tantrum. You want to kiss your girlfriend. You want to soothe the ache.

You’d highly, sorely overestimated yourself with this trip.

She still throws her head back in a cackle, though, eyes squinted so cutely and soft pink lips wide open as it echoes around the room. Around the cavern in your chest, “Shut up. You should ask my mom about all my potential names, though. I think every single one was a bird and she’d probably point them out the entire hike if you asked her t-”

“I’m actually not feeling that good,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You swear that the room is spinning, and you tell yourself it’s just from the sweltering heat outside leaking in, “I… Maybe I shouldn’t go on the walk with you guys. Stay back, lay down for a while.”

Robin deflates right before your eyes. You almost wish you could take the words back.

“What?”

The broken whisper widens the cavern inside, new prickles of hurt forming as you watch yourself disappoint the one person in the world you can’t imagine ever letting down. The person who always makes you want to strive to be better, the girl who’s always been your number one supporter. Your closest confidant, your shoulder to lean on when times got rough. The first person you’d greeted every morning of the last four years, and the last person you see before you’d close your eyes at night.

Your mind had been flooded with the what-ifs since the night before. Robin had been indulging her parents in the story of how you two met, but the memory had been something shaved. Something blurry and foggy with the vaguest unfamiliarity. Details forgone, chunks bitten out to make it all easier to chew for them.

You’d met in the library. She’d asked for help with a class neither of you can even remember now. She’d assumed you were the safest bet, the assigned textbook having been spread out on the table in front of you amongst pages of notes, but couldn’t have been more wrong. You were even more clueless than her on the subject.

And she tells the story as it was for that part. The beginning matches your memory perfectly. There’s extra bits missing, like the way you’d stuttered like a fool when she’d first approached you because you’d never seen someone make a button shirt look so damn good. Or how you’d nearly jumped out of your skin when she’d abruptly taken the seat next to you, nearly scorned by her knee bumping yours as your heart raced with the panic of oh, God, a cute girl is next to me. A cute girl is touching me. I’m going to do something stupid – this will never end well. But the Devil’s in the details, and you don’t mind those vacant bits.

But then she continues on with more of your shared story. More of the novel of you two, the one you held so sacred, spine worn and pages crinkled from how many times your hands chose to flip through the pages with such tender touches.

You’d asked for her number to arrange study dates, not because you’d fumbled over yourself as you’d tried to ask her to get coffee with you sometime the second week of knowing her. Intentions always clear once you’d found out she was like you – no room for friendly connotations when you’d just said it was a date. No studying involved when you’d spent the entire time sipping on lattes staring at her lips until she’d nervously asked if she could kiss you at the end.

You’re roommates because both of you realized how terrible the dorm situations were – not because you’d both gotten scolded one too many times for spending the night at the other's place, sleeping far better when curled up together than you did alone. Roommates, not giddy lovers who had nearly broken their shared bed the first night in their not-yet-unpacked apartment by jumping on it before collapsing into one another. Childish laughter and kisses that involved more teeth than appropriate all because neither of you could stop giggling.

You had watched in real time as Robin had written right over your history, dark blue pen inking over words written in the softest cursive, as if it had never even happened.

You knew she’d have to lie. You knew she couldn’t tell the truth. But it still hurt.

“I just think the heat’s getting to me,” you croak out, falling back onto your mattress, vision going blurry. It’s the heat – it has to be. It can’t possibly be tears, even if it all clears when you blink a few times. The burn in your throat and corneas alike were just from the layer of sweat on your skin, not from all the emotions clawing at you from the inside out, “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve got Buster to keep me company.”

The moment they left, you weren’t going to be bothering the family dog.

You were going to cry, and scream, and clutch your chest as you clung to the reminder that it was all fake.

Come Monday, you’d be back in your apartment with just Robin, and that dreadful blue ink marking the page would be erased.

She wasn’t burning it all down on purpose. She wasn’t scarring you intentionally. She was simply just doing what she had to do – she was putting up whatever act to continue to involve you in her life as you’d both craved. It didn’t matter if you’d always wished for it to be entirely different from your current situation, where she proudly introduced you as her girlfriend and would spare you salty kisses on a lake’s dock without any fear. She was doing what she could. She was offering you the best she was capable of, and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Do you think you have heat stroke?” her eyes go wide as she stands, already walking towards you.

Half of you wants her to just hold you, the other half wants to keep her six feet away from you at the risk of being injured any further with reality.

“Exhaustion, not stroke,” you weakly smile, taking the most subtle of shuffles back on the bed, making a compromise on whether you’d keep her close or far. The effort of distance, but not enough to stop her before she sits on the edge of your bed. The lonely sheets and family quilt that hadn’t been keeping you quite as warm at night as she did. “Seriously, Robs, it’s fine. Go with your parents, maybe see if your dad will take a bunch of photos of the birds with that fancy camera he’s got. I’m goo-”

“You’re not good,” she interrupts, a look in her eyes that pierces right through you. You’re a terrible actor, “You- What’s really wrong? Is everything okay?”

No. It’s not okay. I miss you. You’re right in front of me, and I miss you so fucking badly, it hurts to breathe.

“I told you,” you try to laugh, “It’s just the hea-”

“Please stop lying to me.”

More gaps, more spaces. This is the part where she would have reached out already to hold you. This is the part where she takes your hand in hers and lets her thumb sweep over your knuckles in the smallest and most erratic of swipes, somehow still managing to be entirely soothing.

She doesn’t. She can’t. The doors don’t have locks, and you won’t ask her to risk it.

“I’m not lying-” you start, but Robin is getting up off the bed in an instant. Fast enough to scare you, and fast enough to make you reach out to grab onto her.

She’s out of reach before your hand even makes a fist. Your first decisive move of this entire trip to try and touch her, try to hold her in your palm once more, and she’s nothing more than smoke and mirrors as she races out the door of the bedroom.

It’s fitting. The air between the gaps in your fingers currently feel exactly as tangible as she’s felt this entire weekend.

The tears can’t be stopped once you’re left alone. They don’t come about dramatically, they don’t slip out between gasping breaths and wretched sobs. Silent and salty, they slip down your cheeks effortlessly between small hiccups. Anyone on the other side of the door left open no more than an inch wouldn’t even hear you, notice you.

You love her. You love her so loudly, it’s deafening. You love her the way they love in all the movies, when the cameras will pine to the hopeless fools who scream from rooftops about the one they cherish most. You love her the way they love in all the novels, endless words for endless oceans you’ll brave just for one glance from her. You love her the way they do in all the photographs, in all the stories passed down for generations, in all the songs wailing over the radio static.

Four years. Four long and wonderful years that should have built the strongest of pillars to survive this one small bump in the road, but you’re crumbling at a faster rate than you’d ever thought possible.

You can’t even blame her – you don’t even want to.

When she finally comes back into the room, the storm has nearly passed. The clouds have rolled through, all the tears have fallen, and you try and see with some clarity between every single sniffle.

“I told my parents to go ahead without us…” she says, the last word falling off into an inaudible whisper when she catches sight of you.

Pink eyes, wet cheeks, broken heart. A heart not even broken at her hand, despite her having clear ownership of it.

She takes one deep breath, sharp and sudden, and you think she’s about to bombard you with questions once more. But then the breath is held for a few seconds – one, two, three, you count them – before she blows it back out and drags her feet over to the other bed. Away from you. Separate from you entirely, so far out of reach that everything threatens to begin to burn again.

She can’t love you the way she normally does. Not here, not behind curtains and restrictions. Not under the watchful gaze of oblivious parents.

You won’t even argue that her parents have been so kind, that she should be able to come out to them. It’s a line you refuse to cross. You’ve both witnessed it throughout your individual lives; everyone can play nice so easily until they know the truth.

You’d even shared your own handful of horror stories about your own family and friends with her. Probably scared her even worse when it came to the thought of finally coming out to her parents. Probably damned you to never be loved out loud as you were crying for, because now she knew of the risk that always existed, and it all felt a bit hopeless.

Thanksgiving afternoons spent snacking on whatever sweet treat her father had made as you all watched the parade on the TV. Christmas mornings spent in your childhood home. Grocery shopping on a Sunday night with her hand in yours.

They all felt intangible. She felt intangible.

It’s not until you can hear the quiet thud of the front door of the house shutting that you’re reminded that she’s still there. You’ve curled up on the head of the bed, knees to your chin, trying to bury all your sniffling into the skin rather than risk anyone hearing. You didn’t want her parents to see you like this; you didn’t want to have to explain. You couldn’t explain.

She’s perched on the other bed in a far less comfortable position. Her spine straight as a rod, almost appearing to be hovering over the carefully folded covers. Seconds pass in silence as you both hold your breaths, waiting on entirely different things.

You’re waiting for the final fracture – a bereavement that if you couldn’t have handled all this, you never should have come.

And she’s waiting on something entirely different.

Safety.

Once it’s been long enough that her parents are safely out of reach, she’s barrelling straight for you. No hesitation, no hiding, no friendliness.

One moment, you’re entirely alone, body growing cold on the bed. And the next, her arms are around you and her perfume is wrapping you up as your nose is buried in her neck.

“I’m sorry,” she gushes out despite the two of you being entirely alone for the time being, “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She’d known what was wrong the entire time. You didn’t need to say it.

The gaps begin to fill in slowly. The baby lands somewhere deep within your chest, the squeeze in which she holds you to her own body convincing you she might believe she could simply slip you between her ribs entirely. Every kiss you feel her feverishly pressing to your forehead and temple repetitively balms it all over – all the burning, all the yearning, all the hollow aches you’ve tried to ignore the entire vacation.

She can’t love you as loud as you had cried for in front of her parents, but she can right now.

She can feel all that humid air surrounding you two with murmurs of soft I love yous and more unnecessary apologies. She can hold you until the hurt subsides. She can run those damn vapid sweeps over your shoulder until you’re leaning entirely into her, leeching off of all the comfort you can selfishly.

You don’t sob like you thought you might have if this happened. You just enjoy it.

You let yourself relish the feeling of being in Robin Buckley’s arms, because you don’t blame her. You love her. Loud enough for both of you, whenever she’ll allow it.

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble, mouth muffled by the skin of her shoulder you’re still pressed tightly against, “God, Robs, it’s not your fault, I just-”

“It is my fault. I should have already told them by now. I shouldn’t be introducing you as my fucking friend, when you- You’re… you’re so much more than that,” she’s crying. You can hear it in her voice, and in an instant, the roles become reversed. You pull back just in time to get your own arms around her shoulder, her face hitting your chests hard enough you wince. Not because it hurt you, but out of fear it hurt her, “I can’t even tell you how much I hate it. I hate not getting to just grab your hand when we were out on the porch with them last night, and I hated not getting to cuddle during the movie, and I really hate not getting to sleep with you at night. Jesus, that part has fucking sucked. I don’t- I can’t-”

You cut off all her rambling as you smooth her hair down, pressing your nose into the crown of her head for just a second, a soft shush falling from your lips.

“I need you to listen to me,” you hold a steady voice. The storm had already come and passed; a certain determination had already taken hold of you. “Very, very carefully.”

Slowly, the two of you unfurl from each other, looking one another in the eye. Her hand stays in yours though, thumb moving jaggedly until you finally rearrange the two appendages so that you can be the one doing the soothing. Strong, smooth sweeps. Steady and unfaltering. Determined.

“You can’t love me loudly when they’re around,” you say very carefully, blinking when tears threaten to break free once more. It’s hard enough to look into her eyes and see all her own heartbreak existing – saying what you’re about to say might damn well destroy you both. “And that’s okay, alright? It sucks, and it’s terrible, but it just is. You don’t need to come out to them until you’re ready. I will never, ever put you on the spot like that, understood?” She nods, drinking in every word carefully, even as she squeezes your hand just a little tighter, “I just missed you. I missed kissing, and cuddling, and just… just being able to love you as loud as normal. That’s normal.”

You give pause, offering some space for her to respond, but the words that come out her mouth are the last thing you wanted to hear.

“I thought you were going to break up with me.”

Your heart drops, shatters on the wooden floor below, shards flying out to mingle with all the dust and dirt alike.

“What?” you breathe out, nearly laughing. The thought that you could ever break up with the woman in front of you is almost comical, “Oh my God, baby. Darling. No, holy fuck. You think it’s that easy to get rid of me?”

In all of it, all of your storms and all of your turmoil, the last thing you’d thought of was breaking up with Robin. If anything, you’d been more scared of her breaking up with you.

She wetly laughs, and you can’t help your hand from coming up to cup her cheek, swiping away her tears faster than they could fall, “I don’t think I’d consider anything about this weekend easy.”

“It hasn’t been,” you immediately agree, “It really, really hasn’t been. Hardest weekend of my life, scout’s honor. But you know what it comes down to?”

The softest of pauses, the largest of silences to fill with the love you have screaming inside you for her. The floorboards know, not so much as creaking. The trees know, carrying themselves with the breeze to tap on the window pane just for a glimpse. Even the cicadas know, falling eerily silent.

She’s looking at you with ocean eyes, and you’re drowning in the best way. Finding home on her shores once more.

“I would die for you in secret,” you say plainly, “And that means I can also love you in secret, if you need me to.”

You’d let the entire world smother you alive if it meant you still ended your days with Robin Buckley in your arms.

A tough pill to swallow, but she’s worth it. For every midnight impromptu baking session that has occurred between you two, in which she’d end up with flour all over her face and eventually in her hair when your fingers tangled up in it as she finally kissed you. For every scrunch of her nose in the beginning of your relationship, when you were still learning how she took her coffee and she’d power through cups far too bitter for her just to spend the morning with you. For every night spent tangled up in the sheets, your name falling from her lips in a prayer as you’d drink in every aspect as you could, happy to die with her thighs framing your face as though you may belong in the Louvre.

Robin is worth it. You can swallow your pride, you can handle the hurt.

“I don’t want you to have to love me in secret,” she confesses, almost sheepish, beginning to play with your fingers in her lap, “I’m tired of being asked if I’ve found any boys that catch my eye on campus when I’m unlocking the front door of our apartment, our home. I don’t want them acting all shocked when I announce I’m bringing you on family vacations instead of a boyfriend. I just… I think I’m ready.”

You can’t squeeze her hand tight enough, “You’re ready to tell them?”

Just for confirmation. Just to not get ahead of yourself.

“Yeah,” she nods, small smile, “Yeah, I think I a-”

She doesn’t finish the sentence before you’re pressing forward to kiss her. Hard, soft, short, long. It’s a myriad of kisses that you can’t distinguish the exact pattern of. You just want her lips on yours, her hands creeping up to tangle in your hair as you nearly rip her shirt, tugging her close as can be. Even when she can’t keep kissing you back, mouth breaking out into a broad smile, you want it all.

And even when there’s a sudden clearing of a throat from the doorway, you still want it all.

You jump apart, fear racing through your veins when you look up to see Robin’s mother standing there.

She saw the two of you. Kissing. Clinging to one another. She fucking saw you.

It doesn’t matter if Robin had just claimed she was ready, she surely hadn’t meant it like this. Every terrible outcome had yet to be calculated. The two of you hadn’t had the discussions of what to do in worst case scenarios. Robin hadn’t mentally prepared for this – you hadn’t mentally prepared for this.

“Mom!” Robin shouts, looking about ready to cry once more, absolutely petrified, “I- It’s not- I didn’t-”

It’s not what it looks like.

That’s what she was trying to say, and you were about to open your mouth to offer all the possible support you could, but Mrs. Buckley cuts you both off.

“Your dad decided he wasn’t up for a hike today,” she says as though she hadn’t witnessed anything. Looking entirely unaffected, save for the slightest twitch of a smile, “We did find a cute squirrel that he took a photo of, if you girls want to see. Most darnedest thing – too adorable, honestly.”

Your brain genuinely short-circuits. You glance at Robin, and she’s just as stunned as you.

“We were talking about putting on a movie, if you want to join us,” her words are becoming more careful, more calculated. Finally, as she turns to walk back out the door, one nicely manicured hand resting on the frame, she pauses to drop the other shoe, “We could always skip the movie, though, if you’re ready to finally tell us all about your lovely girlfriend, Robin. I’d love to hear all about what you’ve actually been up to at college, dear, and I’m sure your father would, too. Only if you’re ready, of course.”

The words aren’t rude, aren’t judgmental, aren’t harsh. Every worst case scenario flies out the window as Robin’s mother offers the sweetest smile you’ve seen from her yet. Like she knows she’s finally looking at her actual daughter. As if she’d just simply been waiting this whole time for this moment.

Best case scenario.

Only if you’re ready.

You look at Robin, and she’s never looked more ready in her life, hand finding yours once more.

“I- Okay,” she says with a slow-spreading smile, “Yeah, me and my girlfriend will be right out, mom.”

Not a friend. Not a roommate. Finally, finally, you’re hers once more. Wholly and entirely, this time.

“Perfect,” Mrs. Buckley claps her hands, seeming genuinely excited, “I’ll break out your dad’s leftover scotcheroos. See you girls in five.”

A breath of fresh air leaves your lungs once you’re alone with Robin once more, and she’s already climbing out of the bed, hand holding yours in order to drag you to stand with her.

“C’mon,” she laughs, and you can’t help but giggle as well, “Let’s go eat some scotcheroos with my parents, girlfriend.”

Screaming from the top of the rooftops. Pages turning, blue ink fading to black, pressed along with the same care as it always has been. Roaring, deafening, loud.

All her love and pride is palpable as you say, “After you, babe.”

#summertime sweetness #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfic #stranger things #gia <3 #ghost's stories

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kentuckyfriedmegumi · 3 months ago

Text

fanfic writer interview

thank you @uriekukistan for tagging me!

no pressure tags @yearnwormwrites @hijinks-n-lowjinks @fluffy-bacon363 and @philosophiums <33

How many works do you have on AO3?

i have 14 works; 13 are for jjk and 1 is just a writing exercise thing i wrote

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Itadori Yuji's Totally Foolproof Plan to get Fushiguro Megumi to Fall In Love with Him

Closing the Distance

is it gay if our pinkies are intertwined?

Too Soon?

I Have to Protect You

all of them are jjk itafushi works!! yuji's plan is my first fanfic piece i've ever written!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes!!! i try my best to but lskdjflsd sometimes it gets ahead of me or life gets all wonky. i really do try tho, and most of the time i'm pretty responsive <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

oh for sure it has to be To See You Again. it's an alternate ending to What I'd Give, and i've had ppl argue that that one is sadder, but i feel like (without getting into spoilers) the lack of resolution leaves this one feeling a bit more bleak. i felt bad writing it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably yuji's plan, even tho it's an ongoing series. it's only "ongoing" bc of a series of spin-off one-shots that follow the ending, but they are all pretty happy. the series overall has very light angst too, but if not yuji's plan, then perhaps Closing the Distance.

Do you write crossovers?

naur but i have considered writing characters in other universes. idk tho, seems intimidating.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not hate in the traditional sense where someone is actively disliking my story or writing, but i do regularly get jumped by my readers for my angsty stuff. i wouldn't call it hate tho.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

naur and i probably never will, but i do have little FLIES IN MY EARS that want me to.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

last i checked, naur. but im keeping an eye out bc im willing to throw hands over it ksfdjsdl

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but i've had someone ask me if i ever will. i can't do the translating, but it would be cool if one of mine were.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES OMFG!!!! @sunnyyflowerrs and i wrote pinkies together and it was SOOO MUCH FUN!!!! it's crazy like how well our writing styles meshed together, and i really liked working with her. i'm her number 1 fan fr so like this was just a dream to me. i loveee it and it's my third most liked fic!!!! i'd lovee to work with her again, and there are also some other writers that i hope to work with!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

itafushi literally sucked me into the ao3 rabbit hole like nobody's business. i never read fan fiction ever in my life before june, and then next thing i know i'm writing a multi-chapter fic in august. now i have 13 itfs works and kfm socials on like. every app. crazy how that works.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i don't know if there's one that i don't think i'll ever finish. i hope to try and finish all of my works eventually, i guess the *only* thing that i could really think to put here is just that the yuji's plan one shots are going to keep going til i run out of ideas.

What are your writing strengths?

the kfm trio: angst, miscommunication, and tension. i feel like i really do well with tension, but i've been told that when my angst hits, it hits. also currently have my readers tweaking out in CTD with the miscomm, so we got the holy trinity.

What are your writing weaknesses?

my prose and descriptors are a work in progress. i feel like it can come out sounding clunky and it's really hard to get the flow right. that's what i'm struggling with in skinny dipping, an unpublished wip of mine. the more i work on it, tho, the better it gets.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

oh goodness, i would be soooo bad at it i fear. the only other language that i know is american sign language ahahaha, so the best that i could do is accurately capture inumaki signing in ASL kajsdfldsk the closest i get is using when i use -chan or -sensei in dialogue, but i don't use it anywhere else.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

OH MY GOD I SWEAR I WILL WRITE A SHIGUANG FIC FOR LINK CLICK OMFGGG THE POTENTIAL THERE IS CRAZYYYYY I NEEDDDD TO WRITE IT however, i must pace myself and finish skinny dipping first, and also probably closing the distance before i even try to start writing a new fic, much less for a new fandom. oh also kagehina is slowly creeping up on me the more i watch haikyuu... i can feeeeel it

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

currently, it's actually Hot Off the Press teehee. it's a fun, low-pressure fic that i can self-indulge in and use my degree for! it's been a ton of fun writing and i really like being able to pull stuff that i learned for this story. also it's just a fun story to write teehee

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #itafushi #ao3 #jjk fan fic #fan fiction #fan fiction author #ao3 author #tess yaps

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vanishingcherry · 2 years ago

Note

fc sian lilly pls? siannlilly on ig ! thanks

heyy <3 i wasn't sure who this was for, so i made the social media au for harry. in celebration of the one year anniversary of harry's house

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

HARRY'S HOUSE ALBUM RELEASE

liked by yourfriend, harryfan, harrystyles and 1,834,957 others

yourusername me when i remember that harry's house is out tomorrow

view all 24,975 comments

harryfan1 honestly... same.

↳ harryfan2 i literally cant wait like matilda? i just know its gonna make me cry

harryandynforever i wonder if she's heard the album already

↳ yourusername nope... harry said i have to wait like everyone else

↳ harrystyles its meant to be a surprise

↳ harryandynforever OH MY GOD SHE COMMENTED AND HE COMMENTED AND OH MY GOD

ynfan shes so pretty it hurts

liked by yourusername, mitchrowland and 34,750,405 others

harrystyles Harry's House. Out now.

view all 1,94,857 comments

harryfan TE AMO

yourusername my all time fav album

↳ harrystyles my all time fav person

↳ ynandharry2 shes the only one who can get him to use his insta

onedirectioncomeback THAT MOUSTACHE LIKE EXCUSE ME

liked by gemmastyles, yourusername and 23,239,857 others

harrystyles One Night Only. New York. May, 2022.

view all 94,857 comments

keepdrivingsupremacy THIS WAS THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE

↳ username NO WAY U WENT? THATS SO LUCKY

harryfan19 ❤️😭🥰

harryfan him singing harry's house live for the first time was the best thing ive ever seen

↳ harryfan4 im gonna spend the next few hours binge watching every single video from that show

yourusername via instagram story

liked by harrystyles, yourbff, annetwist and 20,485,007 others

yourusername harry's house, out now!

i've had the pleasure of watching you create this album over the last year, and as secretive as you've been over the songs, it's been one of the best experiences of my life. seeing you this happy and in your element makes me the happiest person on earth.

the album is nothing short of amazing and i love it and i love you. you've told our story in a way more beautiful than i thought possible. it is an honour to be your muse.

comments on this post are disabled

liked by yourusername, jeffazoff, harrylambert and 26,291,485 others

harrystyles the inspiration behind harry's house

view all 92,457 comments

harrylovesme NO WAY HES SIMPING ON MAIN

yourusername ❤️

↳ harrystyles ❤️

harryfan i too would write a whole album about her

username oh my god her style are we sure taylor swift didnt write about her

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bambikisss · 1 year ago

Text

Celebration in 5A :: J.JungKook

🎶: Bambi - Baekhyun & Saay (mashup), Seven - JungKook ft Latto

A/N: Sequel of Daddy's 95

💕: Streetracer! Jungkook x Streetracer! Reader

⚠: SMUT: Biting, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), fingering (f), against a window, leaving marks, Jeon JungKook's thighs and muscles.

A/N: I've been thinking about doing a sequel to Daddy's 95, so here it is. There is a surprise announcement also at the end, also 👀 but yes. Also, this is in memory of long haired JK.

NOT PROOFREAD | REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE ENCOURAGED

"It's not fair!"

You leaned back in your dark red corvette as your opponent complained loudly. You had beat him in a street race after telling him that you knew you'd beat him, yet, he was still so shocked that you won. It made you roll your eyes as the grown man threw a whole tantrum. As he yelled, your phone buzzed with a text from Jungkook.

JK: Y/N, there's a race downtown against this guy from France!

JK: Come stop by and watch your man win

A smile broke out on your face at the text, giving you something better to do than listen to the loser. "I'm off" You smiled to the man and the officiant before you drove away, leaving the man in the dust. As you drove, you listened to the music that came on your radio, the lyrics reminding you of JungKook; the nights you would spend with him on this very same empty highway speeding and making jokes. Those were your happiest times, all thanks to JK.

Ever since you and him began dating, he had made it his personal mission to be there for you all day and all night, despite his job and his wacky sleep schedule- if you had a race or needed him, he would be there. It always made your heart swell at his gestures, but you refused to tell him that he wouldn't ever let it go.

When you arrived at the empty race track, you noticed the crowd of people that were arguing out front. The closer you got, the more you could make out the conversation.

"There's no way you're going to beat me!"

"Dude, I'm literally going to"

You concluded that the more confident sounding words were JungKook, knowing that he was always overconfident in his abilities. You were proven right when you saw his confident smile, his arms crossed over his muscular chest while his opponent was mirroring him, but with a red face and a not so relaxed stance. You pushed your way through the crowd till you got to his side, making sure that he didn't cause a fight or something- while he was a great street racer, you weren't so confident in his fighting abilities, despite his constant gym visits and boxing classes. When he realized that you were now by his side, his smile widened, turning to fully give you his attention. When you asked him what was going on, he simply shrugged before saying "just some pre-race banter."

"No, this is not!" The French man yelled, making you and JungKook turn to face him as he stomped his foot before he was escorted away by his friends, leaving you and him alone. When he was far enough away, you raised your eyebrow at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked guilty. At your raised eyebrow, he held up his hands in defense before he said "Hey, to me it was just some banter. I didn't think he'd take it so seriously!"

"JungKook, how do you manage to piss off and annoy everyone you meet?" You asked, pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his hard chest. You felt your body relax as he placed a kiss to your head, a small smile coming to his lips as he bit his bottom lip. "I don't piss you off and annoy you, baby." You raised your eyebrow again at his teasing voice, sighing once more as you knew he was right. He took your sigh and relaxed body as a sign that he was right as well.

"Well, you now have to beat a very angry french guy, so you need to go focus on that" You motioned over to the man who was glaring at JungKook still, leaning against his yellow car. JungKook winced at the glare, whispering to you "is that why I felt heat in the back of my head, like someone was trying to burn a hole there with their eyes? Damn."

You shook your head at his words, following him to his choice car for the night: a dark purple hellcat. He had won it in a race a week ago and he had been dying to use it again. You leaned against the driver side as he got inside, watching him as he prepared himself. "What did you bet if you won?" You asked, leaning back so he could close the door before you bent down to look at him through the window. JungKook at first didn't answer, choosing a playlist to blare while he raced before he jumped as you repeated the question, this time more tense.

"If I win, no, when I win I get his hotel room at some expensive hotel" He then paused, giving you an almost pained smile before he spoke again. "If he won, then he gets our project car."

At those words, you felt your heart drop: you and JungKook had been modifying a hellcat together for a while. It was your baby.

JungKook noticed your change in expression, wanting to reassure you that he could win, but you cut him off, asking him with gritted teeth why the hell he would wager your baby. "He saw my lockscreen picture of you and me posing in front of it and he picked that. Look, I know I can win this race, so don't worry your pretty little head, Y/N. I got this." For once, you felt doubt in JungKook. With something as important to you as that project car was for you, you felt like you had to wish upon a star like a child to ensure that you got to keep it and it didn't get shipped off to France.

JungKook gently cupped your face, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours before he pressed a kiss to your nose, whispering "I got this, baby. I know how important that car is to us, but especially you. Don't worry." You nodded, stepping back from his car as he moved to the starting line, revving his car as he looked over at his opponent. When he raced, JungKook usually never felt nervous. But, with something as important as that car on the line, and with how much it meant to you, he felt a bit of nervousness tingling at the back of his head. He took a deep breath before he turned up his music, facing forward as one of the French guy's friends dropped a green flag.

GO.

JungKook pressed his foot down on the gas, speeding down the racetrack, his music blaring loudly as he drove, drowning out his nervousness. He felt free, almost like a high.

He continued to speed around the track, skillfully moving around the track like it was the back of his hand. He didn't even try to look over at his opponent, wildly drifting when needed until he passed the starting line once more. He then pressed his foot down on the break, his whole body moving forward before he fell back against the seat, closing his eyes as he tried to calm down. He then opened his eyes after a few moments to meet your eyes as you stood outside his window, a proud smile on his face. He then got out of his car, hugging you tightly as the others cursed and complained about having to get another hotel room. That didn't matter to JungKook, nor you.

"Yo, hurry up and get the room key from me before I throw up" JungKook smiled, removing himself from your embrace before he accepted the room key from the annoyed man. He then turned to you with a wide grin, walking up to you before he approached you. "So, Y/N baby, ready to have a night out with me?"

He knew you wouldn't say no to him, but he wanted to see you nod. So when you did, he instantly, held your hand before he leaned in to whisper in your ear "I'm going to rush back to my house to pack some stuff, you do the same. See you in an hour" You smiled at his words, his grip on your wrist tightening before he pulled you back into his embrace, his lips now pressing against the shell of your ear as he says "Oh and pack something pretty for me"

You knew what he meant by the tone of his voice, biting your lip before nodding. JungKook smiled, moving his hand from your wrist, slowly up your arm to cup your jaw, making you look at him before he kissed you, just giving you a taste of what the night had in store.

~.~

What kind of French man did JungKook race and how did he even find him?

Your thoughts continued to spiral with more questions as you looked up at the luxurious hotel that you stood in front of. It was so fancy that they had a valet, a beautiful lobby, and even an infinity pool. It made you a bit worried to know that JungKook had challenged a probably very wealthy man to a race, thinking he was just an average joe. But, a part of you was very proud of him and excited for where this night would go.

You gripped your suitcase as you made your way through the lobby up to the elevator, pressing the floor number that JungKook had told you to before you leaned back against the cold elevator wall and waited. When you finally reached the floor, you walked straight ahead, noticing the beautiful double doors that had the room number JungKook had texted you. You glanced over at the plaque by the door, making sure it was the right room.

Presidential Suite 5A

You then knocked on the door, biting your lip as the doors opened to show your boyfriend wearing only a simple white hotel robe, his hair wet from the shower he had just taken. When you met his eyes, a smile crossed his face before he reached out to hold your hand, pulling you into the room. JungKook could tell you were shocked, but his thoughts were everywhere else besides letting you look around the luxurious suite.

No, he would let you do that after you two did some celebrating.

"Jung-" Your words were cut off by your boyfriend's lips pressing into yours, pressing you against the wall as he kicked the door closed before moving to press you against the door. The kiss started off slow before picking up in pace, his tongue moving against your bottom lip as a warning before moving into your mouth to meet yours. Your brain became fuzzy as his tongue moved with yours, his hands moving around your body to grip various parts of you before he became frustrated with the clothes that kept you from him. He kissed down your face, moving from your lips to your chin, then along your jaw before he stuffed his face into your neck, licking the area before he began to bite. Your various moans made his own brain fuzzy, his hands moving to grip your thighs before carrying you the bed, laying you against the silk sheets before he pulled back.

"Off." Your eyes slightly widened at his gruff sounding voice, sitting up to remove your clothes slowly, teasing him. You watched him as you removed the clothing slowly; how his eyes move over every section of newly exposed skin, his eyes darkening every second. When you sat back down on the bed, now fully naked, JungKook waisted no time in trying to reach your body again, only to be stopped when your hand moved to press against his chest, stopping him.

"I can't be the only one naked, can't I?" Your playful voice made JungKook feel even more dizzy, biting his bottom lip before he nodded, standing back up to slowly untie his robe. "I was taking a shower before you got here, Y/N. It's pretty nice, too." You hummed in response to his words as he let the robe fall from his shoulders, pooling at his feet as he stood in front of you bare. You let your eyes roam over his large pecks, his abs, his muscular thighs, and his long cock that stood pressed against his stomach. It all made your mouth water and made you even more dizzy.

JungKook always loved your reaction to seeing him naked, it always motivated him when he didn't want to go to the gym; to see you stare at his body like it was the first time every time always gave him that extra confidence boost. It also turned him on more.

"You know, Y/N, you would love the shower" He smiled, leaning down to cup your jaw, moving your head to look up at him as he climbed on the bed, pressing one of his legs in between yours as he slowly ushered you onto your back, keeping your jaw in his hand. "Maybe when I'm done fucking you all around this bedroom, I'll go fuck you in there"

You moaned at his words, making his grin become wider before he kissed down your body slowly, taking his time to get to where he knew you wanted him most. He let his tongue drag along your stomach as he looked up at you before he placed your legs on his shoulders. He would never pass up an opportunity to make you fall apart on his tongue.

"Oh and if you're worried about being too loud, don't be, baby" he smirked, kissing the inside of your thighs before biting them gently, his hands moving to grip the flesh before he blew gently on your clit, making you whimper a bit. "These walls are pretty thick. I should know, I asked the hotel staff"

You weren't able to say anything after that, his tongue immediately moving to taste you. He slowly lick up your wet pussy before diving back in to move his tongue around you, humming and moaning at how good you tasted and sounded for him. His eyes never left yours, staring up at yours as he messily ate you out without a care in the world; speeding up, slowing down, teasing you, outright fucking you with his tongue- he did it all.

As your back arched, he gripped your thighs tighter before moving to sit up, wrapping one of his arms around your waist as he ate you up higher, that way you would have no choice but to look up at him. You moaned at the new position, gripping the sheets as you looked up at him. You felt your orgsam approach quickly, one of your hands moving to grip his thighs and dig your nails into them as an anchor as your felt your body begin to heat up.

JungKook could tell you were close, moving faster before sucking and kissing your pussy, a smile coming onto his lips when you came. He made sure to clean you up, moaning loudly at your taste before he slowly placed you back down on the bed. You closed your eyes as you tried to calm down from the orgsam, not even noticing him kissing up your body to your lips before he kissed you roughly, shoving his tongue into your mouth so you could taste your own cum on his tongue before he pulled back. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his boyish smile and a wink, making you gently smack his thigh.

"Do you like that new position baby? I thought about it just for you. Is your neck ok?" He asked, gently massaging your neck as you nodded. You always loved how caring he was in situations where both tried something new.

He nodded before his hand moved to the back of your neck, pressing his fingers gently into the side before he began to move your head towards his lap where his cock was now leaking. "Look at the mess you caused, Y/N. All that moaning and shit made me like this, so you should come clean it up, no?" You knew it wasn't a question due to his voice, his hand directing your head more towards his cock. You accepted it, licking along the underside of his cock before moving opening your mouth, allowing him to enter your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks. JungKook gave your neck an appreciative squeeze before moving down your back to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze as well, making you moan around him.

You began to bob your head as JungKook moaned, continuing to squeeze your ass but giving it a smack whenever you did something he really liked, like deepthroating him and holding it for a bit, or circling your tongue around the tip of his cock. He tossed his head back before moving his hand in between your legs, pushing a finger into you before adding another, curling it.

You let out a shocked, yet happy moan, JungKook's hand moving into your hair to encourage you to deep throat him again as he began to finger you faster. You closed your eyes as you let JungKook have his way with you before he pulled you off his cock, pushing you onto the bed before he stands up, placing his fingers into his mouth as he does so, humming at your taste.

"I don't want to cum in your mouth tonight, baby. Not when I could cum into that tasty fucking pussy" he said, gripping your thighs to pull you to the end of the bed before pushing into you without a warning. You moaned as you arched your back, his hand coming down to press you back down against the bed as he moaned loudly as well. He gave you a few moments to adjust before he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before he walked over to the nightstand, grabbing a remote.

Why would he fuck you on the bed like usual when you both had a whole suite to yourselves? There we're so many options for tonight.

You raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button one the remote, watching as the curtains slowly opened, showing you a beautiful view of the city and the floor to ceiling windows. It only took you a moment to realize what was going on, hissing a bit as your back became pressed against the cold window. "Oh, and don't worry about people seeing you too. I asked the staff too about this and it's tinted" JungKook smiled before spreading your legs out onto his forearms, pulling back out before slamming back into your, crashing his lips into yours to suck up all of your moans as he moves.

You moaned loudly into the kiss, digging your nails into his shoulders before digging them across, making him moan loudly before biting into your bottom lip. "Fuck, keep doing that Y/N, baby, mark me up. I want scars to remember this night, baby. I want to remember having you pressed up against these windows, fucking you just like this"

You did as he requested, digging your nails into him more, sure that you had broken some skin before tossing your head back as he moved to bite and kiss along your collarbone. His hips never let up, which was something else you loved about him.

He could multitask.

"Oh, fuck, Jungkook" You gasped, feeling one of his hands move to play with your clit, moving it in various shapes as he moved faster as his face moved into your neck, leaving hickies in his wake. He wanted you to cum all over him before he came.

No, he needed it.

"Come on, Y/N. Fucking cum for me, babygirl" His voice came out gruff and a bit whiney, his hips now moving frantically into you as you came all over him, the cum ring around the bottom of his cock moving down his balls, making him moan louder into your neck before he pressed his hips against yours, filling you up with his cum. You gripped his shoulders as you both held each other, feeling his cum leak out of you, moving down his cock. JungKook breathed heavily before pressing a kiss to your neck, pulling back to see your face as he panted before placing you back on the bed, slowly pulling out of you. He hovered over you, his arms on either side of your head as he tried to gather his thoughts from the orgsam. You gently cupped his face, pulling him in for a kiss before sighing as your body relaxed against the sheets.

"Don't get to comfortable, Y/N" you opened your eyes, giving JungKook a confused look as he stood back up straight, wiping the sweat from his brow before he met your eyes again, a small smile on his lips. "This room booked until checkout time, which is tomorrow afternoon. Don't think that I we're done." His eyes mirrored ones of a predator, crawling onto the bed to hover over you as he continued to speak slowly. "I am going to fuck you all around this suite: every surface, against the floor, in the shower, in that tub, even in that infinity pool. I mean it, everywhere."

You smiled as he placed a kiss to your cheek, feeling excited for the hours to come as you whispered into his ear "well, you did win this, so this is your celebration"

"Damn right this is." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips before he whispered against them "and who better to celebrate it with than with you, my love?''

You smiled again at his words, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he picked you up, his cock pressing against your ass, letting you know that the break was over.

"So, where next?" You asked, tilting your head as he smirked. "Well, I wanna show you the shower, still. It's so spacious and has many different water settings. And, the shower head even comes off"

"Well, why don't you show me?" You whispered against his lips, watching as his eyes darkened once more, tightening his grip around you before carrying you to the bathroom.

It would be a very long night of celebration, but it would be worth it, even if you both wouldn't make it out by check out time.

THE STREETS SERIES : 2/4

#bts #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts junkook #bts jungguk #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #~bambi #bambikisss

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ingravinoveritas · 11 months ago

Text

Hello, lovely followers. I was traveling for work again in the second half of this past week, but I'm now home and looking forward to answering all of your Asks that I've been seeing in my inbox. I first wanted to reflect a little bit, however, because this trip was also a personal one for me.

This week's travels took me to Anaheim, California, which is where Disneyland is (I think I actually must've not been far from where David and Georgia just were, funnily enough, as my hotel was right by the park). It wasn't my first trip to Anaheim, though. The last time I was there was when I was 11 years old, on summer vacation with my dad in California while my mom was on a tour in Italy at the same time. As you'd expect, my dad wanted to take me to Disneyland...but I was too scared and overwhelmed, and we only ever got as far as the parking lot. The gates were visible, and I remember how they loomed, that feeling of something foreboding washing over me...but rather than excitement, my tiny body was filled with dread. I mentioned this while in conversation with one of the hotel employees during my stay, and he said, "What kind of kid doesn't want to go to Disney?"

What kind of a kid. Well, an autistic kid. A kid who was constantly anxious, emotional, and terrified of sensory overload. A kid who hated crowds and noise and rides. A kid who didn't travel well to begin with, because she was afraid of new places, anything unfamiliar, anything that wasn't safe and home.

A kid who was me.

Even before this, there were so many ways that the world had said "This is not for you." But still, there was something different about it happening there, in the bright California sunshine. My favorite Disney princess as a kid was always Belle, because she also loved to read and didn't fit in with the people around her. Belle connected more with books and animals than people, and that made me connect with her. But Belle was also beautiful (as Disney princesses tend to be), and thanks to the bullying from my peers, I was very aware that was something I was not. So no matter how much I wanted to be Belle, there was no way I could ever be a Disney princess.

This is not for you.

Thinking about all of this during my trip made me feel so many things, but I was most surprised to find myself feeling a sense of nostalgia in particular, a longing for the child I was, who I wish I could comfort. It also made me feel such sadness for that child and anyone else who finds themselves in a situation or a place where the world thinks they should be happy, but they're not. And there are few things more difficult than feeling that way in (of all places) "the happiest place on Earth."

I didn't end up going to Disney on this trip, even though I had a little bit of time to do so. It's still not for me, but the difference now is that I am okay with that. That need to be the kid who wants to visit Disney--the "good" child, the child who isn't "broken"--has gone away, and I'm more than happy being adult me, and finding a place that fits me, instead of the other way around.

And that was my nostalgia trip, in quite the literal sense of the phrase. I have a picture or two to share in another post, so stay tuned for that as well...

#personal post #autism #disneyland #of course this happens during World Autism Month #so my emotions were a little all over the place #reflections #reflections from the road #childhood #thoughts #nostalgia #thank you all you lovely people for being here #<3

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jetblackromance · 4 months ago

Text

Lately I've been seeing a lot of posts about people reading Neil as being completely exy obsessed, not caring about anything else (including his own possible death).

And that's funny to me because I've never read him like that?😅 just wondering if I'm alone with this but:

In my head, Neil doesn't actually care about exy.

It's about what exy represents to him:

Exy is what his brain latched onto when he had nothing else. Playing exy is probably one of his happiest childhood memories. Then, when they were on the run, to distract himself, he probably thought of exy to escape the real world. He obsessively followed news about Kevin and Riko. It became his coping mechanism to escape from everything that was going on in his real life. Because if he had focused on his daily life, he would have gone insane. No child can grow up normally while being on the run.

So I don't think he actually cares about exy per se. It's just that exy is the only thing that let's him forget. It's the only thing he feels like he can control. If he practices a lot, he'll get better. If he makes his teammates get along, they'll have a better chance of winning the next game. Winning the next exy game is a goal he can actually accomplish if he works hard.

Meanwhile trying not to get caught by his father's men is out of his control. He tried to stay hidden for some time. But without his mother by his side, he had to carry the weight of his decisions all by himself. He had to choose which city he'd go to next. And he simply didn't know what would be the best choice, where he'd be the least likely to get caught. There were no guarantees. So, he was doing what he thought was best but had no way to know whether he was making the right choice. And let's not forget he was only a teenager still!! And he literally had to make choices that could result in his own death. That's a lot of stress for a teen. And despite having to make choices on a daily basis, he had zero actual control about whether he'd get caught or not. It was mostly just luck. So why bother trying to stay on the run?

So, he gives in and starts playing exy, which is probably the only interest he allowed himself to have. And suddenly he had full control over his life again. Going to high school? He could manage that. Signing up for exy? He'd ace the try-outs and have a first whiff of a sense of achievement after years of nothing but angst and stress. Actually playing exy? The more he practiced the better he got, the more goals he scored. Everytime something worked out the way he wanted to, he got hit by endorphins. So his brain latched onto that. He became obsessed with exy.

So, in my head, Neil only likes exy because of the control and distraction it provides him with. It could have been literally anything else. He just needs this one constant in his life, that he can control and that provides him a mental escape when he needs it most.

Am I the only one who thinks that? 😂 or am I maybe misunderstanding all the posts claiming he "wants to play stick ball so fucking bad, he doesn't care how many chances he has to escape certain death" or that "he gave up every rule he ever abided by to play exy".

He doesn't not care about staying alive. He had to fight to stay alive for so long, he just can't think about his father and the mafia any longer without it triggering years of suppressed memories and feelings.

He didn't give up all rules he ever abided by, he was about to break under the weight his mother's rules had put on his shoulders. He gets this first positive experience and he wants more, he gets addicted to exy just like people get addicted to drugs. But he doesn't care about exy, he cares about how exy can make him feel.

#neil josten #rant #rambling #aftg #nora sakavic #exy #all for the game series #the foxhole court #all for the game #the raven king #the kings men #the king's men #neil josten obsessed with exy

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ravenwoodalum · 1 year ago

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on karamelle, why it sucks, and redeeming azteca's reputation.

I just got to Karamelle for the second time, and good lord. I hadn't forgotten how much I hated it, but it hit me like a wall of bricks. And I'm already preparing myself to marathon it and be fucking done questing here for at least a year.

I think it breaks down like this.

Baby's first workers rights movement/sugary-sweet surveillance state Listen. I know this is a game that doesn't allow for player characters to have much individual impact on the in-game narrative. I know we've had to do errands for cops. I know we work for a war criminal. I KNOW there are flaws in the system. But there's something about the way that Karamelle's set up that makes it all feel so. much. worse. And that's the fact that Karamelle has such a stellar reputation within the Spiral before this. The happiest place in the Spiral, the sweetest treats in the Spiral. Everyone seems to fucking love this place. Almost no one outside of those actually working there seem to understand how corrupt it is. And so the YW is talked down to at every turn, like this is their first exposure to a corrupt environment. And sure, maybe it is within, canon. YW gets isekai'd at a very young age and then made into a child soldier, maybe this is actually the first time in canon that they've been introduced to these concepts. But (and this may just be me) it feels really rude to the player -- who might actually have experience with these ideas -- to make them feel like a fucking idiot with the dialogue options. Karamelle's characters just feel rude.

Oh, so the Gobblers were a fatphobic, Roald Dahl type thing from the start. Cool cool cool. Any of you ever read Roald Dahl's book "The Twits"? It's a very unremarkable story all things considered, except for this bit.

Aside from Roald Dahl's unavoidable history of antisemitism, does this remind you of anything? Honestly, this reminds me of the Gobbblers.

We first meet the Gobblers around level 10 in Wizard City -- creatures driven by consumption. And then we get to Empyrea and hear that the Alphoi -- skinny "civilized" creatures -- can become Gobblers if they eat too much or are unhealthy in their eating habits. Which makes one of our oldest running enemies a loop-around fatphobic thing, ESPECIALLY when we get to them in Karamelle, the home world of the Gobblers. Rosina, especially, just oozes fatphobia and diet culture. The literal vilification of being fat isn't even subtext, it's just text.

The Old One, The Cabal, and what to do when your escape from the world ends up shoving what you were escaping from right back in your face. When I was in sophomore year of college, fall of 2019, I had one of the worst mental health periods of my life. Antisemitism was fucking everywhere, I was always a moment away from a panic attack, and it felt like no one understood. While I'm lucky in the fact that I was able to get an official diagnosis for genetically inherited PTSD, alongside the reassurance that I wasn't fucking crazy, there was a period when I just needed to go home for a moment. So when I was going back to my dorm from the dining hall to make sure all my stuff was ready to go, I opened up tumblr and made a post on a long-gone RP sideblog I had for the Swedish Chef (y'know, from The Muppets? long story), and before I'd even gotten halfway across campus, I'd received threatening and violent messages from someone RPing as Borat, which only got worse when they realized they were talking to an actual Jewish person.

That escape from reality didn't even last five fucking minutes before the horrors I was trying to avoid found me.

Now, Wizard101 has always been a source of comfort for me. I made my account fourteen years ago, and I do not know what my life would look like if I hadn't done that. There are flaws with this game, yes, sure, but over the past five years (since I got a wiz compatible laptop) I've developed a bit of a reliance on it to get me through the horrors. No better form of escapism.

But no art form is free of the horrors.

And Wizard101 has the fucking Cabal and Old One.

The Cabal within the fiction of Wizard101 is a secret, nefarious organization pulling the strings on events across the Spiral, controlling history from the shadows. This term literally originates in antisemitic conspiracy theory, with the term 'cabal' originating from the term for Jewish mysticism, 'kabbalah'. And I promise you, you've heard plenty of applications of this conspiracy theory in real life too. It feeds into the idea that Jews (or 'global elite') control the government, the media, the banks.

And then, we get to the man in control of it all. The Old One. Whether or not this was intended, he's a walking, talking antisemitic caricature. The octopus as a symbol for the mythical Elders of Zion is a longstanding dogwhistle (see attached for a guide to this and many other visual dogwhistles). "Oh, he's based on H.P. Lovecraft-" So he's based on the works of a famous racist and antisemite, cool cool cool.

It's just exhausting, walking through a world that is so clearly modeled after Germany and other parts of eastern Europe, and finding antisemitism around every corner. And even more exhausting considering it's almost impossible to tell if they meant to do it. Antisemitism is so fucking ingrained in the world at this point that I don't actually know what they meant to do here, what they did maliciously or out of ignorance, or if any of it was put in with the purpose of turning it on its head. Over the past few years, it has become glaringly obvious that a lot of people don't realize when they're running across antisemitism, or even taking part in it. Including people I really thought would know better.

Side note. For those of you who know I see Dasein as Jewish, you may be wondering how I balance that out with the antisemitic nature of The Old One, since they share a physical form. I think of it like this. Dasein did not choose The Old One. He did not choose to resemble that, but he can attempt to reclaim it. Dasein's Judaism comes not from the resemblance he holds to the hatred that haunts us, but from the love that keeps us going. He questions authority and longstanding tradition, chooses to do what's right instead of what's expected, and is kind in the face of hatred. He literally makes himself, and a world, out of nothingness. Something out of Nothing. He's so Jewish you guys.

The Spiral's "Worst World Award" goes to... I know we all say "fuck Azteca" pretty often on this website, but I don't think it deserves to be deigned the worst world in Wiz. My main gripe with Azteca is how inaccessible it gets after Xibalba strikes -- the flashing lights aren't exactly photosensitive friendly. Which further lends frustration to my completionist nature, meaning I have to finish all quests, badges, and fishing before I finish the world (making it take forever to finish). Aside from that, there really isn't that much wrong with the world (and if you argue that it sucks because you can't save Azteca, I get it, but some tragedies are inescapable by their very nature). It's a problem of gameplay, versus a problem of plot in the case of Karamelle. And maybe its just because I'm a writer, but problems with plot feel much more egregious. I really do think Karamelle deserves more vitriol than it gets.

G-d, I can't wait to get to Lemuria.

#behold. the long awaited kvetch.#wizblr #w101 #wizzy101 #wiz101 #wizard101 #y'all better check out the resources i've linked :gun:#there really is something to be said about fantasy worlds where Judaism does not textually exist but antisemitism DOES.#like hmm. where did that come from. anyways.

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evergruen · 5 months ago

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Final thoughts on JJK's last chapter and Gojo's ending

Now that I've had the time to sit with my thoughts, and process the ending properly, my perspective has changed a little. If you disagree with this, that’s fine, these are just my thoughts after all.

I’m not going to delete my previous posts, as those are genuine reflections of my feelings at the time, and I’m not one to pretend.

Gojo's ending is bittersweet, painful, tragic. He's always been a tragic character. Made to carry the world's weight and sins on his shoulders, made to feel like all of it was his fault, a direct consequence of his existence. Left alone, understood by no one (but one), isolated, never really alone but still lonely. So much so that in the end he didn't even really feel like a real person. Seeing himself more as a creature than a human, a weapon, the strongest.

And yet, despite all the pain (or because of it), he tried his best to make sure no one else will ever have to be like him. That no one will ever have to carry the same burden as he had to.

And he succeeded, didn't he? His students won't have to go through what he went through. They aren't alone. He made sure of that. His dream became true in that sense. He died fighting, for the first time, against someone who was able to equal his power and beat him. He died without regrets and now gets to spend his afterlife with the person he's been chasing after (in one way or another) all his life, the afterlife symbolizing the time period in his life he was the happiest.

I have a lot of issues with Gege's writing. His habit to ignore meaningful character interactions for one, Megumi's wasted potential, Nobara, I could go on. I can disagree with the glossing-over of grief and lack of funerals in this story and also recognize it fits narratively. Believe it or not.

Gojo's story ending the way it did makes perfect sense narratively. Does it make me sad? Incredibly so. I want him to be happy (which he is, while still dead).

I know I said I felt like Gege's disrespected his character, and I’m now saying that I don’t feel this way anymore. I also don’t at all agree with anyone who says Gojo's talk with Yuuji was Gege projecting. Gojo saying "haven't we had enough of Gojo Satoru?" Isn't Gege trying to piss you off, that’s Gojo saying "Haven't we had enough of one person shouldering it all? Suffering underneath the weight of it all? Can I rest now?".

I also don’t think he went into that fight with Sukuna expecting or even planning to die. He's not stupid, he simply was aware of the fact that he could die. I don’t know why some people think him acknowledging that possibility somehow goes against his character.

Satoru was loved and he won't be forgotten. Despite how that fact suffers under the weight of Gege's execution and writing. I'll forever mourn the wasted opportunity to show us Megumi's grief specifically. Despite what tiktok wants you to believe, Gege doesn't hate Gojo. Please let's move on from that.

We spent chapters on Yuuta literally shaking and on the verge of throwing away all their plans because of his desperate desire to save his beloved sensei, Yuuta as the one to call everyone out on placing the burden of being a monster on Gojo's shoulders alone, willing to throw out his own humanity if it meant he'd get to lessen his sensei's burden just that tiny bit.

Am I sad? Hell yeah. Do I wish Gojo was alive and got to watch over his students? Fuck yes. Do I still think his death was meaningless (I said this before) and that he had to die unsatisfied? No.

In 236 (titled "go south" or something similar) his final thought is him literally begging for it all not to be a dream. Gojo clinging to the past and wanting to return to when he still felt like a person, happy, with his closest person right next to him, makes perfect sense. We see this as a tragedy. We see someone clinging to a past long gone, wishing to return to that and automatically associate it with stagnation.

But this isn't how Gojo sees it. To him, it’s going home, finding peace. Achieving what he wanted to achieve, knowing his students got it from here, knowing they won't have to suffer the same way, and going back to his happiness free of guilt. He's played his part. He did what he set out to do and now he's free.

What I wished for his character resolution and what Gege decided makes sense for his character don’t cross paths. But that doesn't make Gege's writing wrong. He simply decided that going south is ultimately what Gojo would want most. And if you've read the manga, you'd realize that fits.

I still wish he was alive, but I can see why Gege decided to not bring him back. He gave him his own version of a happy ending by letting him go back to what made him happiest.

Gojo literally has one of the (if not the) most satisfying character developments and stories in that entire manga. As a side character.

You did well, Gojo Satoru.

#jjk 271 #jjk spoilers #jjk leaks #jujutsu kaisen #Gojo Satoru

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the-dye-stained-socialite · 3 months ago

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6, 7, 14 for all three?

6: What was the thought process behind their appearance? Did you go mostly for the aesthetic or are there other reasons they look the way they do? Elias' appearance has always been centered around portraying less common features in a positive light. my past houses put a lot of stress on my physical appearance, and making sure i fit into a specific mold, so! elias was designed to break that mold in whatever ways made me the happiest!!! at first it was just them having their wheelchair, and visible stubble while presenting incredibly femininely, and then over time it grew, and so did they!! Elias gets to be fat and happy and wear beautiful clothes that fit them, their chair gets to be personalized and decorated and loved, their stubble is as prominent as ever, and they're allowed to be happy about their curly hair!!! As i had Elias get into dye-making and pigment research, I also wanted to show that too. Elias gets to wear bold or saturated or vibrant colors, and they also get to show off all the stains that their work accumulates!! I chose Mauvine to be their main color because that was the first Analine Dye made, and what better color for a dye scientist to wear? Some people think Elias is messy, but people who knows dyes and colors would recognize it for what is it, which plays well into Elias' whole 'sweet ditzy socialite' facade (not that they aren't a nice people person, but theres far more to them than that). Marigold was words first and foremost, so when designing them I wanted to put thought into how the Gardens would affect their appearance. I also wanted to get across the feeling of someone who has been touched by horror and tragedy. Beauty couldn't save them from all that they went through, horror and tragedy can happen to anyone. They're still beautiful, they just need extra care now. I really wanted their appearance to emphasize all they went through. Their eyes are entirely pupils now, no iris, and have turned the color of honey, based on some text about being honey-mazed, the saying about eyes being windows to the soul, and that part of Marigold has literally been consumed and taken away. The veil hiding their tears and dark rings is about how easy it is to not look deeper, to miss abuse happening behind closed curtains, even though it shows through the bug-holes in their net. I wanted Marigold to look like I had taken someone off of a fashion-plate and tossed them through a bramble patch. Their clothes pretty, but all tattered and deteriorated, the same as their owner. Marigold's hair color is because. Well/ Honey. Strawberry-Blond. Just fitting into the color scheme. The red bow was because I wanted it to be clear that someone owns them, someone who is seemingly above such things, and that the bow is the only part of their appearanc Marigold has the strength to take care of anymore. Marigold is also my only skinny oc, and this is on purpose. I wanted their bee and flower motifs to reflect their living situation Thursday I wanted to be pawn-shaped. I wanted their position as a Pawn on the board to affect everything down to their very appearance. Mostly I've just been fiddling with their color palette, trying to get things right and have them all look good. I think??? I'm finally happy??? So I just. Need to start drawing them!! 7: What is an aspect of their appearance that you like the most? i already answered this but..... Elias: stubble and double chin <3 Marigold: their widdle bee-antenna Thursday: buff!!!! built like a fucking brick under there!!! 14: Do you have any quotes tied to the character, either from the story itself or from another source that fit them?

i'm so bad at quotes i'm so bad at quotes uhhhh- Elias:

marigold:

thursday:

#awordbroken #elias leroux #marigold the captive #thursday the pawn #ask games

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

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The Archer | Chapter X: Daylight (the end)

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

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

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, like daylight

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

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

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

“COME ON, come on come on, let’s go!”

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

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

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

“Angel, you coming?”

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

“Angel, you ok?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

A son for a son.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright, sa’nok.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

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

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

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Atan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it hurt, Atan?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit. I never thought about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

════════════════════════════════════

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

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

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

“What is it, ma’ itan?”

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

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

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

“Kid… we’ve talked about this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Tsireya.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Angel. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too, baby brother.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Come here.”

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

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

════════════════════════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re almost there, Atan. Come on.”

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

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

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

“Neteyam… what is this?”

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

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

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

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

“I thought this was the gift.”

“No, Atan.”

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

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

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

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

“When did you take these?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll take that as a yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked you a question, Atan.”

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

“That’s my girl.”

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

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

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

“Yes, fuck. Yes. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move, Neteyam. Please, move.”

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

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

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I agree.”

You laughed loudly, and looked at him affectionately.

“I didn’t say anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my good girl.”

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

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

“Yes…daddy.”

════════════════════════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hopefully just the one.”

They both laughed in unison at your joke.

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

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

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

“Where’s little, puny me?”

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

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

“It’s not that little anymore.”

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

“Oh my God, do you feel that?”

“Of course I feel that, mum.”

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

“We don’t know it’s a he yet, yawne.”

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

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

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

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

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

Suffice it to say you were late to get going.

════════════════════════════════════

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

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

“Hug me, you skxawng.”

“Angel…what?!”

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

“Hi, Angel.”

“Surprise?”

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

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

“You’re such a dick, Lo’ak.”

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

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

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

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

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

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

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