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forever--darling · 2 years ago

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

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

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 18.1k (this is insane)

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

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

Please, let him be soft.

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

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

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

But, please let him be soft.

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

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

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

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

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

You were there because of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then there was Neteyam.

Please, let him be soft.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!” Lo’ak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lo’ak…”

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

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

“Y/N,” he warned.

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

“Y/N—”

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

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

“No, Lo’ak—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it?” you asked, hesitantly.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it is true.”

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

You shook your head and sniffled, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I was trying to be you.”

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

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

There is a tide in the affairs of men.

I am not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needed to hear that despite everything you loved him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know why.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t capable of seeing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Y/N.”

Except there was that.

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

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

He had you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let him be soft

Let him be mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tell me you love me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed then, “My Olo’eyktan.”

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

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

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

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

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

You were mated for life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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anemhoez · 6 months ago

Text

The General…

Jiyan/AFAB Reader/Rover

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, language, slight breeding

A/N: *clawing at the walls* JIIIIYAAAAAAAN!! is it just me or did they make this mf TOO hot?! is that a thing?!?! everytime i see him i just *chokes self* i need a cold shower hehehe

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

With the upcoming battle against the Threnodian threat and the dangers that would arise, General Jiyan was more concerned than ever. You found him pacing in his makeshift office, a small room in an abandoned warehouse that he and his army moved into to have a place for medical staff and equipment. “General? You asked to see me?” you questioned softly once walking in, hoping not to disturb him in whatever he was doing. “Yes, thank you for coming Rover, please sit.” his voice was more gentle with you then when he spoke to his subordinates. “I want to reiterate just how dangerous the upcoming battle will be, the crownless is ruthless.” he spoke with concern heavy in his voice. Your face stayed stoic as you nodded, “I know general, but im one hundred percent committed to this fight, i won’t falter.”

Jiyan smiled at your resolve, “I’m honored to have a soldier like you by my side, thank you.” he said with a small sigh. He stretched his neck with a deep groan, bringing a hand to soothe the aching muscle. “Are you alright general?” you stood up quickly, moving over to observe him more closely. His amber eyes met yours, “Yes, i’m fine, just a bit stressed, nothing out of the ordinary.” he leaned against the dusty table he used to revise plans with the troops. You reached out, touching his forehead with the back of your hand to check his temperature. “You’re not very warm, do you want me to fetch some vitamin packets from the infirmary?” He shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m fine really, please dont worry about me, there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” he reassured you with his never ending resolve. “Alright but, at least take some time to relax, even if just for a little bit,” you cocked your head to the side, observing his demeanor, “what do you normally do to de-stress?”

The general before you seemed to light up suddenly at your question. “Well, I like to spar with the new recruits, take long walks or,” he stopped when he noticed your proximity. You had moved closer to him, your heavenly scent hit him harder than it should have, and he inhaled deeply. He looked down at you, his intense stare causing your stomach to stir, “I also like to have sex when I’m stressed.”

If you hadnt already been in a trance by his stare, his words would have definitely done the trick. You gulped audibly, “Oh?! Of course you do- ah i mean to say that’s a good stress reliever- I’m not saying that you’re some kind of degenerate or anything!” Jiyan actually laughed hard at your words, the first time you’ve ever seen such emotion since being around him. Your face got hot, worried you had overstepped, “Forgive me general, it’s been a while for me so the topic is kind of, gods why am i so awkward?!” you asked yourself out loud, your body absentmindedly walking towards the door.

The general turned to sit at his desk, his large lap looking as inviting as ever. “It’s actually been a while for me too, I never have time for myself, let alone someone else.” his eyes followed you as he spoke, hoping he hadn’t made you uncomfortable in any way. But as soon as you closed the door and locked it, his need and desire began to grow. You mustered up all your courage and sighed, “General, I’m more than willing to help you,” your voice was soft as your hands came to remove your top. Without a word, Jiyan took you by the waist bringing you to sit on his lap.

Your lips collided in a frenzied kiss, his strong grip and dominance over you caused your head to spin. His gloved hand adorned with claws squeezed your breasts one after the other, while his other hand rested at your back. When you finally pulled away, he made quick work of your bra, pulling it down so he could suck and bite at your sensitive flesh. He was so rough with you, his eager and desperate hands gripped you tightly, sure to leave bruises in their wake. He pulled away from you briefly, only to place you on top of the desk.

“Forgive me, for being so rough with you,” his hands were softer now, more gentle as they rubbed up your exposed thighs. “Dont be, please use me however you like,” you pleaded and took one of his hands and brought it between your legs. He sighed at your warmth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth he growled, feeling your wetness through your underwear. “Fuck,” he cursed into your mouth, your tongues soon meeting in another passionate kiss that made you dizzy. Jiyan finally lifted up your skirt to your belly and pulled your underwear down, sitting back in his chair and making himself comfortable before leaning down to slot between your legs.

You arched your back sharply, feeling his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit. He moaned deep, practically growling as he tasted you. You looked down at the sight of the general making a mess of you, greedily licking and slurping, driving you feral with his tongue. Your fingers grabbed at his hair, tugging and pulling him impossibly closer. “General,” you huffed, his long tongue fucking in and out of your sopping hole viciously. “Fuck!” you yelped, shaking in his grasp as you came hard, the lack of touch the past few months making you a whiny, trembling mess within seconds. He continued however, determined to get you to come as many times as he liked. He sucked on your clit, releasing you from his grasp only to remove his bracers and gloves. He inserted two fingers inside of you, keeping the brutal pace of his tongue against you while he curved and pumped his fingers in and out. You huffed and moaned, the overstimulation wracking your body again and again as the general teased your spot over snd over with his long thick fingers. “Please! Please just fuck me!” you begged as you tugged on his ponytail, needing the onslaught on your pussy to stop.

When he finally pulled away, his mouth was glistening with your essence and he licked his lips greedily, moving in for a kiss. “You’re incredible,” he whispered gruffly as he undid his pants quickly, shimmying himself out of his undergarments to finally stroke his cock. You watched the general, your leader in this battle against evil, line himself up with your entrance, and slowly push himself into you.

He hissed, your warmth and tightness overwhelming him. “Mmh, so perfectly tight,” he huffed into your ear before pulling out and thrusting back in harshly. Gods was he aggressive in the best way, brutally thrusting into your pussy as if he owned it already. His bruising grip tight on your thighs as he pushed them down, folding you in half for the best possible angle. “Rover, ahh,” he grunted, moving in close to suck and leave marks on your neck. You held onto him for dear life, clawing at his back, desperately trying to hold onto him. “H-harder please!” you whined into his ear, his pace quickened and his hips began slapping against you so hard, it echoed in the barely furnished room. Anyone outside would be able to hear the rough fucking that was happening right now but you didnt care. With the way Jiyans long cock nestled at you cervix everytime he thrust back in, a Threnodian army could bombard the encampment right now and you wouldn’t budge.

Your peak neared as he continued his thrusts, moaning and grunting everytime you clenched down, biting at your ear as you bared down so hard, he almost lost it. “Ah! I’m-“ your words caught in your thraot as you came, the blinding orgasm crashing into you like a truck. Jiyan’s hands came to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he leaned back to look down at you. Your fucked out expression, mouth hanging open with drool dripping down one corner of your mouth was all he needed to finally cum hard into you. He never lost eye contact with you, his mouth twisted into the most satisfied smile as he pumped his seed deep into you. You were certain you’d never in your life see someone as gorgeous as him in this moment. His eyes half lidded and dreamy, a cocky smirk on his face while sweat dripped from his brow, you had wished the two of you could fuck like this forever.

He helped you to sit up once he pulled out of you, leaving a trail of your mixed releases on the desk. His seed flowed out of you as you sat with your legs still spread, trying desperately to catch your breath. He chuckled and moved back to you, using his fingers to fuck his cum back into you. “I can’t think of anything more satisfying than you entering into battle full of my seed,” his fingers pumped into you over and over, causing you to claw at his chest, sure to leave trails of scratches on his beautifully defined body. “How much more of me can you take I wonder?” You moaned, another orgasm nearing as he dragged his fingers so deliciously inside of you. “As much as you want to give me general, “ you huffed out before spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

The two of you would fuck at least two more times before the battle, your cunt so full of him you started to feel it drip down between your legs as you fought. Once the fight was over, Jiyan tenderly picked you up, kissing and praising your prowess both in and out of battle, all the way back to HQ.

A/N: I’M-LISTEN JUST LEAVE ME ALONE 😭 id do anything for him and his cute blue pubes 🙏

#wuthering waves #wuwa jiyan #jiyan smut #wuwa smut #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #please enjoy while i go suck boothills robot cock for the next week

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beababoobies · 10 months ago

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Hello!

Saw you were doing hazbin hotel request, and I can't stand that I have not found much angst on these two, and I mean angst about Sir Pentious being in heaven while Cherri is in hell.

So could you do like one where both of them just miss one another, like Cherri saluting his photo in the hotel lobby daily while Sir Pentious is just thinking about her.

Just putting this out here-

Just as I go “alright, I have reqs but imma go to bed” I see this and go 👀 because lord KNOWS I love writing angst. Yurp, I gotcha. Love Cherrisnake and it’s going to make me SOB but 🙏 yeah. This is much much shorter than I usually write but I hope you still enjoy!!

But I Can’t Help (Falling in love with you)

words : 0.6k, cherrisnake my beloved, here’s some tissues 🧻 for your tears I suppose

Ever since Pentious was murdered by Adam in the fight, Cherri had been hanging around the hotel. She kept insisting it was just to ‘be friendly’ or even ‘angel’s here.’ But after weeks of staying, even having her own room, and competing in the daily rehabilitation excersizes, it was obvious to everyone that wasn’t the case. But they couldn’t tell her that.

Not after Charlie had seen here kneeling in front of the painting of Sir Pentious one night, crying quietly, holding herself in her arms as she looked into his eyes, wishing she had just said fuck it and gone with him. Wishing she had been smarter, admitted that she liked him. But she was stubborn, and refused to let herself fall in love with anyone. So the only thing she can keep of his is the scorching kiss he left against her lips.

And the hotel. Every time she passed his portrait, she would salute to it. The only thing that hadn’t been destroyed in the rubble - his welcome banner - was hung up in her room. Dusty and burnt as it was, she wouldn’t take it down. And Angel was the person who knew all of this. Angel was the one who let her cry for hours about how she should’ve used her brain instead of blocking herself off.

Just like Emily, the kinder of the sarahfim, Pentious had learned, would listen to his rants about how lovely she was. How he knew she would be next up here. He would go on about their past battles, how she was such a strong opponent who always left him guessing her next move. Emily had pretty quickly caught on that it was always bombs, but wouldn’t ruin the fun for him.

He would think of her before he went to sleep, replaying the last kiss before he was redeemed over and over in his head. The way her lips were against his. The way she tasted just like he’d imagined, the taste of sweet cherries engrained in his memory. The way his hands held her waist so softly as he dipper her. The blush on her cheeks as he pulled away.

He thought every night about what he’d do once she got up here too - maybe he’d finally have the courage to ask her out. Maybe she would be distant like she always was and reject him. But the way she’d kissed him back without hesitation brushed those thoughts out of the way. He dreamed about her, dreams from them under the stars to how beautiful and angelic she’d look with the gold accents of devine ordainment. He bets she wouldn’t even lose that beautiful snappiness in her voice.

Just like Cherri knows he would probably still be too anxious to ask her out if he’d survived. Just like she knows she would’ve done it herself after that, running up and into his arms right after the battle. She hated falling in love, she really did - but she couldn’t help but stare at his portrait for hours through the corner of her eye as Charlie explained rehabilitation in the center room. She couldn’t help but deliver flowers to the grave she’d made for him outside the hotel, every day. Without fail, for the past months he’d been gone.

She cursed herself for starting to forget his voice - she cursed herself for forgetting how his lips felt against hers, forgetting the way his chest felt pressed up against his, the coffee in his spit that she could taste. She cursed herself for forgetting.

And Pentious lived every day knowing he could never forget.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #sir pentious #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin cherri bomb #cherrisnake #cherri bomb #hellaverse #sir pentious x cherri bomb #cherri bomb x sir pentious #i love them so much #ANGSTY AS FUCK!!

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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

Text

Crimson Frost {Part Four}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Four

Your reunion with Nikaus and Elijah doesn't go as planned and betrayals are revealed. Threatening the peace and safety you fought so hard for.

♡♡ Thank you for your patience with this one! there will be a final part (five) I have it finished, just have to edit it some more xoxo~ ♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of violence, injury, illness?, betrayal and setting up some juicy juicy dramaaa...

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Five}

The sight of you, holding your sister, safe and alive, was a gift from the Gods, a blessing that made Niklaus nearly shed a tear.

There you were, battered and bruised but living. Telling him that his brothers were possibly still alive, Elijah, his closest friend, and Henrik, his baby brother, the one who looked up to him, saw him as a true warrior, a leader, a hero.

"I won't leave without Elijah," you had said, your eyes fierce, determined.

He admired you so much, your strength, your courage. You had changed in ways he couldn't quite decipher, but you were still the girl he had grown up with, the one who had held his hand when he was scared, who had kissed his bruises and scraped knees. The one he wanted to make his wife.

He watched you run to safety, holding your sister close, and he paused for just a brief moment to imagine the future you would have together, a world free from danger, where you could raise your children, surrounded by his family, putting the past behind you.

Then he ran in the opposite direction towards the docks, the green and blue of his shield and tunic, standing out amongst the black and red of the Blackthorne's. He had to find Elijah and Henrik, had to finish the job, and get all of you out of this wretched place.

When he caught sight of his brother he felt such relief, he couldn't believe he had found him alive. Elijah was a bloody mess, his tunic torn and shredded, his skin covered in bruises and cuts. He had seen him fight before, had sparred with him plenty, but he had never seen him like this; he was a true warrior, a killer, his skill and determination making him a force to be reckoned with.

Niklaus ran forward, his axe held high, and brought it down on a slaver's arm, severing it. The man screamed, the sound deafening, his face a mask of pain.

"Elijah, let's go!" Niklaus shouted, grabbing his brother by the arm.

Before they could even move, a slaver's sword landed into Niklaus' leg, cutting through the leather armour, making him stumble. He managed to keep his footing, grabbing the slaver's face and breaking his skull against a pole, instantly killing him.

Another jumped onto Elijah's back, but Elijah grabbed him by the hair, throwing him into a stack of crates, the wood breaking and splintering under the weight of the slaver's body.

Niklaus cursed under his breath, his body tensing as he saw another attacker rushing towards them, his blade raised. He swung his axe, the blade connecting with the man's chest, blood spraying from the wound. The man stumbled backwards, his eyes wide, his expression one of shock.

They fought back to back, the battle raging around them, the sound of weapons clashing, the shouts of the blackthorne warriors, the smell of blood and death filling the air. It was clear to both of them that they were outnumbered, that they needed to run, that fighting was pointless, but they were surrounded.

"We have to go," Elijah shouted, "now!"

"I'm not leaving without Henrik," Niklaus shouted back, his expression one of defiance, of determination.

"We can't find him if we are dead," Elijah countered, his eyes scanning the crowd, looking for a way out.

They were outnumbered, the odds against them, but Niklaus wasn't about to give up. He was a Mikaelson, he had fought, had killed, had bled for this village, for his family. He would gladly go to Valhalla beside his beloved brother, he had already made his peace with the Gods, had already accepted his fate.

He allowed himself to grieve you once again, the first time allowed him to lay with Tatia, this time it was knowing you would be safe. It made him feel hollow, empty, but it also gave him a sense of purpose, a reason to keep going, to fight.

He grieved the same for Elijah, always doing what he thought his elder brother would do. But with Henrik, he couldn't pretend, couldn't hide behind his duty, it was his baby brother, and if he was lost, he didn't know how he would live with himself.

Elijah turned to look at him, his gaze filled with pain, the anguish and sorrow etched onto his face. Niklaus knew he felt the same way, he would carry the guilt of not saving him forever, and he would make sure to avenge his death, no matter the cost.

"What's done is done," Niklaus said, his voice firm, his grip tightening on his axe, he tried not to let his hands shake, to let his emotions get the better of him. He pushed the images of sweet Henrik, his eyes filled with wonder, his laughter infectious, out of his mind, trying to focus on the present.

"We have to move, Niklaus," Elijah said, his tone sharp.

They turned and ran, losing the pursuing slavers in the main market. They both slowed, pulling their hoods up, keeping their heads down, trying to blend in with the crowd. They weaved their way through the throng of people, dodging and ducking, moving as quickly as possible.

"I saw my sweet y/n with Gerda, thank you for saving them," Niklaus said in a hushed tone.

Elijah nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd, "What of Rebekah and Kol? Where are they?"

"In a village about a ways north from here," he said, keeping his voice low. "They are safe and well, although Kol remains a pain in the ass."

Elijah let out a relieved sigh, a smile forming on his lips. "Good, good,"

Screams and shouts echoing through the market, their pursuers were gaining on them, they could feel it.

"Do you have a plan?" Elijah asked, his voice filled with urgency.

"We split up, lose them, meet back at the forest," Niklaus said, his tone brokering no argument.

Elijah nodded, they were outnumbered, this was their only chance, and they both knew it.

"I'll see you there," Niklaus said, pausing for a moment to look at his brother, taking in his face, committing it to memory.

Then they both embraced, their arms tightening around each other, their shoulders shaking, their emotions overwhelming them. Niklaus hadn't realised how much he needed his big brother, how Elijah made him feel safe, grounded, strong.

They pressed their foreheads together, not needing to say anything, just pausing for just a moment, and then without another word, they went their separate ways.

Niklaus made his way towards the stables, his pace quick, his movements fluid. He found a horse tucked in a quiet corner and he was about to mount it when he heard a scream.

Your scream.

He ran towards the sound, pushing people blindly, not caring if the slavers were following him, not caring about anything but getting to you, saving you.

When he found you, you were standing over Elijah, who looked to be passed out on the ground, your axe raised, your face a mask of fury, your body tense and ready to fight.

You were beautiful, fierce, a true warrior, a Valkyrie come to life.

You swung and landed a fatal blow to a blackthorne's head, his body hitting the ground with a thud.

Niklaus couldn't believe his eyes, he couldn't believe that you had killed a man, that you had fought so hard to save Elijah. You were covered in blood and he didn't know if it was yours or not, his stomach turned, his body moving before he even knew what was happening.

He charged at the remaining attackers, his axe swinging wildly, his fury and rage driving him forward.

When he dispatched the final one, he turned to see you on your knees next to Elijah, your hands holding his, tears streaming down your face.

"Nik, help me," you cried, your voice raw, "we need to get him out of heret,"

Niklaus knelt beside you, his eyes roaming over his brother, checking for injuries. There was a deep gash across his chest, blood seeping from the wound. He pulled a dagger from his belt and cut a piece of cloth from his tunic. He placed it on the wound and pressed down, the pressure causing Elijah to groan.

"He saved me," You said in a quiet voice, "again,"

"You should not have come back," Niklaus growled, his eyes flashing.

"I couldn't leave him," you said, your voice barely a whisper, "I couldn't leave either of you,"

"He is strong," Niklaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, "he will make it,"

You nodded, your gaze turning to the sky, your eyes taking in the setting sun, the colours painting the sky.

"We should get going," you said, getting to your feet, "before more men come,"

Niklaus helped his brother stand, putting his arm around his shoulder, supporting his weight.

"Henrik is with Gerda in the forest," You said, taking Elijah's other side, "let's get the hell out of here,"

"Let's get him on a horse," Niklaus said, his tone urgent, "we can ride double,"

Elijah shook his head, his expression filled with pain, his face pale. "Leave me,"

"No," both you and Niklaus said in unison, your voices hard.

You helped him onto a horse, getting up behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist.

"Go," you cried, "now!"

Niklaus mounted his own steed, his face tense, his jaw clenched. The three of you raced towards the forest, the horses' hooves pounding the ground, the wind rushing past.

As you entered the woods, you could feel the change in the atmosphere, you felt relief, a sense of safety as the canopy of trees became thicker, blocking out the last rays of the setting sun.

Elijah's head drooped, his body leaning against yours. You would not let him die, not here, not after everything you'd been through.

The sky was a brilliant orange, the leaves of the trees tinted red. You gazed into the dark trees of the forest, looking for any sign of Henrik and Gerda.

Your eyes searched for them, and then you saw a glimpse of movement, and heard a snapping of twigs. You caught your breath, hope flaring in your chest. Then you saw him, Henrik, the bravest little warrior. He was holding a stick he had whittled, his eyes wide, his body shaking.

Niklaus immediately dismounted his horse, running to Henrik.

"You're alive!" Henrik exclaimed, his voice filled with relief, immediately dropping the weapon.

"So are you," Niklaus said, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Niklaus picked him up, squeezing Henrik so tight it hurt, the two of them laughing and crying at the same time. Henrik had his arms wrapped around his neck, his legs dangling in the air.

"I got him," he whispered, his voice shaky. "The one who killed Finn,"

Niklaus looked at you in surprise and you nodded, Henrik beamed with pride, a wide smile on his face.

"Einar Blackthorne was no match for a Mikaelson," you said, your tone soft, gentle.

Niklaus smiled at that, his eyes crinkling.

Gerda, Henrik and Niklaus quickly made camp, setting up a small fire and putting together a makeshift bed for Elijah.

Niklaus watched you tend to Elijah's wounds, the way you carefully cleaned the gashes and cuts, your fingers gently brushing against his skin. He felt a pang of jealousy, a feeling he was unfamiliar with. You had never been particularly close to Elijah, but there was a tenderness in your touch, an intimacy he didn't like.

He noticed the way Elijah's eyes met yours, the way his lips curved into a smile, and it made him angry. But he told himself that you had been through a lot with him, that perhaps it was nothing, just the stress of the situation.

All of you sat around the fire, telling stories of your time apart, catching up on everything you had missed. What Henrik and Gerda had gone through was difficult for all of you to hear, and there was an undercurrent of pain and sorrow that hung over the group.

Niklaus shared the darling tale of how he, Rebekah and Kol escaped the raid. How Kol saved Rebekah and how she did the same for him.

You told them about what you and Elijah had endured, the aftermath of the raid, the storm, the cabin. Leaving out the part about the hot springs, now was not the time to tell Niklaus about what had happened between you and Elijah, it could wait until you were safe in the village.

As the night wore on, Henrik and Gerda curled up close to each other, their hands clasped, their eyes heavy with exhaustion.

You, Niklaus, and Elijah sat in silence, the tension palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. Niklaus was eyeing the two of you suspiciously, his brow furrowed, his gaze intense. He had no right to feel such things, not when he had bedded Tatia. And yet, he did, a deep, gnawing ache in his chest.

"I'm going to get some rest," he said, standing up abruptly, "will you join me?" He asked you, his voice tight, demanding.

You glanced down at Elijah, his eyes closed, his breathing steady.

"I should stay with him," you said softly, "I want to make sure he is okay,"

Niklaus frowned and his fists clenched.

"Very well," he replied, his tone cold, distant, "I'll see you in the morning,"

He walked away from the camp, his body tense, his mind racing. He felt like he was losing you, and it made him feel angry, frustrated, helpless. Perhaps this was his punishment for betraying you, for not being there when you needed him the most.

Niklaus woke as the sun rose, his head pounding and his joints aching. He rubbed his eyes, blinking the sleep from them, his gaze falling upon Elijah. He was drenched in sweat, fighting off a fever, his skin pale, his lips cracked. Niklaus grabbed his flask and held it to Elijah's lips, the water trickling down his chin.

He placed a hand on his forehead, the heat radiating off him, a sheen of sweat covering his body. His pulse was rapid, his breathing shallow, and his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. Even though Niklaus hated seeing him in this state, he was improving, his fever lessening with each passing hour.

You had not left Elijah's side in days, cleaning his wounds and administering herbs and salves, anything to help fight the infection. Your hands had been tireless, working until the early hours of the morning, tending to him. Niklaus looked around for you, and when he couldn't find you, his chest tightened, a fear gripping him.

"y/n?" He called out, his voice hoarse, his tone anxious.

"She's in the woods," Henrik said, his voice quiet, he was whittling at a stick, preparing to hunt some small game for breakfast. Gerda was sleeping next to him, her hand resting on his leg.

"Where is she?" He asked, his tone sharp, impatient.

"She just got up suddenly and ran off," Henrik replied, shrugging his shoulders, his expression neutral.

Niklaus stood and walked into the forest, his eyes scanning the area, his ears straining for any sound. He heard terrible retching coming from behind a tree, his feet carrying him towards the noise.

You were hunched over, your body wracked with tremors, the sound of your stomach emptying echoing through the trees. Niklaus knelt beside you, placing a hand on your back, the other holding your hair back.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

You straightened up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes watering.

"I'm fine," you said, your voice shaky, "I just... I couldn't sleep,"

Niklaus stepped closer, his eyes taking in the sight of you, your face pale, your body trembling.

"You don't look well," he said, his tone worried, "did you eat something that didn't agree?"

"No, I..." you trailed off, your mind racing. "It's nothing," you said, a weak smile on your lips.

He placed a hand on your forehead, you weren't overly warm, and he didn't know if that was good or bad.

"We should get you back to the camp," he said, his tone firm.

"I need more herbs," you said, trying to push him away, "for the salve, for Elijah's wounds,"

"We have enough," he said, his voice stern, "and you need to rest,"

"I'm fine," You snapped, pushing his hand away, your expression hard, "I can take care of myself,"

Niklaus was taken aback by your reaction, by the venom in your voice. He reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with concern.

"He will be okay, his fever is breaking, and his wounds are healing," Niklaus said, his tone calm, steady. "We will be able to travel soon,"

"I know," you replied, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes downcast. "It's just, I'm worried, and tired,"

"We all are, but the gods will not be so cruel as to take my big brother," Niklaus said, his voice soft, reassuring.

You let out a sigh, your shoulders sagging, a tired smile forming on your lips. The two of you headed back to the camp, the smell of food filling the air, Henrik and Gerda cooking some kind of stew.

You sat down next to Elijah, pushing his damp hair away from his face, checking his temperature. He was still too warm,his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, but Niklaus was right, he was improving.

"You'll be fine," you whispered, your voice cracking, your chest tightening, "just hold on a little longer,"

Henrik and Gerda handed you a bowl of stew, you ate very little, your stomach still upset. You needed to eat, you needed your strength, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You helped Elijah sit up, leaning him against a tree, feeding him the broth, trying to get him to take as much as he could. He ate slowly, his eyes dull, his face blank.

"We have to keep him hydrated," you said, your voice firm, your eyes meeting Niklaus'. "He's lost a lot of blood,"

Niklaus nodded, his gaze drifting towards Elijah, his expression dark. "I know a healer who can help him, in the village we need to get to,"

"What's her name?" You asked, your voice low, your tone soft, still looking at Elijah.

"Tatia," Niklaus replied, his voice quiet, his tone grim, his jaw clenched.

You nodded, not pressing further, a feeling of dread forming in the pit of your stomach. Everything was going to change when they arrived back in the village, and not for the better.

The journey home had been arduous, the days long and tiresome. You had done your best to avoid Niklaus, choosing to ride alongside Henrik and Gerda. Elijah was healthy enough to ride, but not on his own, so you and Niklaus took turns supporting him.

You tried not to think about your little problem, the thing growing inside of you, but it was difficult. Your thoughts would stray, wondering how things would change once Niklaus knew. What would happen to you?

As the village came into view, relief washed over you, the weight of the last few months lifting. Niklaus had told you this place was safe, a haven for those seeking refuge, and you were grateful.

You followed him into the village, the people going about their business, the hustle and bustle reminding you of home.

An older man greeted you, his name was Ansel, he shook Niklaus hand, his face splitting into a grin.

"Niklaus!" Ansel exclaimed, his voice booming, his tone jovial, "welcome home,"

"Thank you, Ansel," Niklaus replied, his own smile matching the older man's, "this is y/n, my betrothed,"

"Y/n," Ansel replied, his gaze drifting towards you, his eyes lighting up, "what a beauty, congratulations,"

"Thank you," you replied, smiling at the older man, "it's nice to meet you,"

"Let's get you all settled in," Ansel said, gesturing for the group to follow him, "you must be tired after your journey,"

Before you could take another step you were lifted off the ground by a pair of strong arms, a familiar voice shouting with excitement.

"Kol!" You exclaimed, hugging him back, a wave of happiness washing over you.

"We missed you," he replied, placing you back on the ground, his hands still on your shoulders, his gaze searching yours, "we were all so worried,"

Rebekah practically shoved Kol out of the way, her arms wrapping around you, the two of you embracing tightly.

"You're safe," she said, her voice choked, tears falling freely, "I'm so glad,"

"Me too," you replied, holding her close, the two of you not letting go

“I'm so glad you're home," she said softly, pulling away from you to hug her siblings.

"So am I," you replied, watching the siblings reunite, a genuine smile on your lips.

Kol and Niklaus led the way to the healer's hut, the two of you following behind, Elijah resting between them.

Tatia was outside, tending to her plants, she glanced up, her eyes meeting Niklaus', a flicker of emotion passing over her face. She was beautiful, her features delicate, her long, dark hair was loose, flowing down her back.

"Niklaus," she said, her voice soft, melodic, "you're back,"

"Tatia," His voice went soft, his gaze intense, "I've missed you,"

"And I you," she replied, her eyes roaming his body, taking him in, her lips curving into a smile.

You looked between the two of them and could see the chemistry, the heat, the electricity. You thought that you should perhaps feel jealousy, but there was none. The two of them looked good together, the perfect pair, and you felt happy for him.

Tatia turned her attention towards Elijah, her face becoming serious.

"Bring him inside," she said, her tone clinical, her expression neutral.

She helped lay him down, her fingers examining the cuts and gashes, her lips pursed.

"He's lost a lot of blood," she said, her voice quiet, her eyes meeting Niklaus, "but he will recover, with time and rest,"

You let out a breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding, the relief flooding through you. You felt lightheaded and your vision started to swim, the ground coming up to meet you. Niklaus caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist, his body steadying yours. He led you to a nearby chair and kneeled before you, his eyes full of concern.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice low, his hands resting on your legs, his touch comforting.

"Yes," you replied, a weak smile forming on your lips, "I'm fine, just tired,"

Tatia handed you a cup of water, you drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.

"Thank you," you said, your voice hoarse, your eyes meeting hers.

"Of course," she replied, her tone warm, she turned to look at Niklaus, giving him a gentle smile, "you've all been through a lot, you need rest,"

"Come 'Nik, they are having a feast tonight, in our honour," Kol said, his tone light, his gaze falling on Rebekah, "they want to celebrate the return of their brave warriors,"

"That's very generous," Niklaus replied, his eyes never leaving Tatia, "but I think I'll stay here,"

"Nonsense!" Rebekah exclaimed, her eyes shining, "Elijah will be fine, and y/n needs to rest,"

"I'd really rather just-" Niklaus began, but you cut him off.

"Niklaus," you said softly, your eyes meeting his, "Go and enjoy the festivities,"

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze moving between you and Tatia, conflict etched across his face.

"Very well," he replied, standing up and kissing your cheek, his eyes softening, "I'll check on you later,"

You watched him and the rest of the Mikaelson family leave the hut, with only you, Tatia and Elijah remaining. Tatia stood over Elijah, her fingers working to clean and bandage his wounds, her gaze focused, her expression serious.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze meeting hers, "for taking care of him,"

"It's my duty," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact, her eyes never leaving Elijah, "the people in this village rely on me, they trust me to take care of them,"

"I understand," you said, nodding, a small smile forming on your lips, "It's not an easy job,"

"No, it isn't," she said, her gaze moving towards you, a look of understanding passing between the two of you, "but it's a job that someone has to do,"

"But one must not neglect oneself when caring for others," Tatia continued, a smile spreading across her face, "we cannot be our best if we are not our healthiest,"

You watched her heat some water over a fire, adding some herbs, stirring the concoction, the smell of it filling the hut.

"Here, drink this, it will help with the fatigue," she said, handing you a cup of the herbal tea, "are you hurt anywhere?"

"No," you replied, taking a sip, the warm liquid soothing your aching muscles, "I'm fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises,"

Tatia nodded and knelt down and pressed her hand into your stomach, feeling around.

"Does this hurt?" She asked, pressing harder, her eyes meeting yours.

"No," you replied, confused, your brow furrowed, "should it?"

"When was the last time you bled?" She asked, her voice low, her expression neutral.

"About two months ago," you said softly, you already knew what she was going to say, but you didn't want her to ask, that would make it real.

"Have you experienced any mood swings, nausea, fatigue?" She asked, her tone matter-of-fact, her expression serious, "Any tenderness here?"

She pressed into your lower abdomen, her fingers feeling around, the look on her face one of concern. "Is there a possibility that you may be with child? Have you been with a man?"

"Yes," you whispered, so quietly, your throat suddenly dry, you instinctively looked to Elijah and Tatia followed your gaze.

"The father is not Niklaus, is it?" She asked, her tone gentle, her expression sympathetic.

"How do you know?" You asked, surprised, a look of shock on your face.

"It's my job to know," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips, "and to help those in need,"

"Can you... can you get rid of it?" You asked, your tone tentative, uncertain, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach.

"Is that what you want?" She asked, her voice soft, her gaze searching yours.

"Yes... No... I don't know," you replied, tears welling up in your eyes, the emotions flooding through you.

Tatia didn't say anything more, just squeezed your hand, the two of you sitting in silence, her presence comforting.

Elijah stirred a bit on the cot, his eyes opened and he sat up slowly, wincing as he did so.

"You're awake," Tatia said, her tone calm, reassuring, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled by a herd of wild horses," he replied, his voice raspy, his gaze drifting towards you, "how are you? And the others?"

"They're fine," you replied, the smile on your face faltering a bit, "we're all okay,"

Elijah looked relieved, accepting the tea that Tatia had brewed for him, sipping it slowly.

"I'm grateful," he said, his eyes meeting Tatia's, "thank you,"

"It was my pleasure," she replied, her tone genuine, "but you need to rest, both of you,"

She ushered the two of you to another part of the hut, the beds soft and welcoming. You climbed on to the cot, exhaustion washing over you, the stress of the last few months catching up with you. Elijah settled down on his own cot next to yours, grunting a bit, his wounds still sore.

"How long has it been since the raid?" He asked, his voice quiet, his eyes meeting yours.

"A little more than three months," you replied, your tone grim, the events of the past few months flooding back to you, "It feels like a lifetime,"

"I can't believe it's been that long," Elijah said, his eyes filled with sadness, "so much has changed,"

You didn't respond, not sure what to say, the truth hanging heavy between the two of you.

"Come here," He said, his voice barely a whisper, his gaze soft, inviting.

You did as he asked, climbing into the bed next to him, his arms wrapping around you. The two of you held each other, your bodies pressed together, the warmth of his skin against yours, comforting.

You wanted to tell him that you were carrying his child, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak, the fear gripping your heart. He was still so weak, so vulnerable, and you knew he would immediately tell Niklaus, and you couldn't risk that, not yet. Niklaus never took betrayal well.

"We did it," Elijah said, his breath ghosting across your ear, his lips brushing against the side of your head, "we made it back home,"

You smiled and closed your eyes and let sleep consume you. You were safe, at least for now.

Niklaus weaved his way through the crowded longhouse, the celebration in full swing, his eyes scanning the faces, looking for his younger brother. He found Kol in the middle of the room, a group of young women gathered around him, their laughter filling the air.

"Kol," Niklaus said, wrapping his arm around his brother, admiring the group, "who are these lovely maidens?"

"Nik," Kol replied, a wide smile on his face, his eyes roaming the young women with the same hunger as his brother, "let me introduce you to everyone, this is Elsie, Ingrid, and Helene,"

"Pleased to meet you ladies," Niklaus said, his eyes twinkling, he took a long swig of his ale, his third or fourth mug of the evening, the alcohol buzzing through his system. He didn't realise how badly he needed to let loose until that moment, the stress of the past few months fading away.

"Kol has been telling us stories of the raids," Ingrid said, her tone breathless, her gaze focused on the handsome Mikaelson, "it sounds like you had quite an adventure,"

"My brother is a hero, he saved our sister with great bravery," Niklaus replied, his tone playful, his eyes dancing, "and the bards will sing songs of his valour for generations to come,"

"He's very brave," Helene chimed in, her cheeks flushing, her eyes never leaving Kol's, "I think we should reward him, don't you agree Elsie?"

"Yes," Elsie replied, her eyes bright, a mischievous grin forming on her lips, "he does deserve a prize, for being such a great warrior,"

The three women took Kol by the hand, leading him off to dance, their movements fluid, sensual. Niklaus watched them, a smile playing on his lips, he had missed this, the easy banter, the flirtation, the revelry.

He turned to see the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on approach him, a fresh mug of ale in her hands.

"Tatia," He said breathlessly, his eyes roaming her form, taking her in, "you are a sight for sore eyes,"

"Niklaus," she replied, her lips curving into a smile, her voice melodic, "are you enjoying the festivities?"

"Very much," he said, his eyes never leaving hers, the familiarity between them evident, "but it's not the same without you,"

"Is that so?" she said, her tone light, a flirtatious grin forming on her lips, her gaze meeting his. He could see her expression falter, a storm of conflict and pain lingering behind her eyes.

"I suppose you will be married soon, the village will be so happy, it's been so long since we had a wedding," Tatia said, her tone tinged with sadness, her eyes looking anywhere but his.

"I will," Niklaus replied, his voice low, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin, "I'm sorry, I thought my y/n was gone, I would have not laid with you if I'd known,"

"It's fine, really," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips, "we had a wonderful night together, and I will always treasure it,"

"So will I," Niklaus replied, his gaze intense, his emotions conflicting, "will you dance with me?"

"Of course," she said, taking his hand, letting him lead her to where the others were dancing, her body pressing against his, the two of them moving in sync, lost in the music, swaying to the beat of the drums.

"I have some news, but I'm afraid the gods will be angry with me if I tell you," Tatia whispered, her breath hot against his ear, her eyes searching his.

"The gods are forgiving," Niklaus replied, his voice soft, his eyes searching hers, wondering what she had to say.

"If one betrays to reveal a betrayal, do you think the gods will forgive?" Tatia asked, her tone tentative, conflict etched in her expression.

"You speak in riddles, Tatia," Niklaus said with a laugh, his hands cupping her face, "please,just tell me what worries you so,"

"Your y/n," Tatia said, her tone quiet, her voice shaky, "She is with child."

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #vampire diaries #tvdu #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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whitedarkmoonflower · 1 year ago

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Saved

Part 1 – Sihtric x reader

Authors note: while rewatching the Season 2 of TLK and going wild with exploring my newly acquired skill of taking and editing screenshots I became obsessed with the idea of writing my own version of how Sihtric met Uhtred. Please bear with me as I'm working on learning to concentrate on the essentials and leave out unnecessary details, but I also believe that small details can make the characters more vivid.

Summary: reader is Uhtred’s sister and a skilled healer. She travels with her brother’s men and after the unsuccessful attempt on Uhtred’s life gets curious about the young prisoner, the sole Dane from the group of assailants that is left alive.

Warnings: violence and mention of blood

Word Count: 1,129

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Sihtric found you sitting in your favourite spot near the lake, beneath the shade of the ancient oak tree whose sprawling branches provided protection from the scorching sun. He hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before taking a seat beside you. In your presence, he still retained an endearing shyness, as if uncertain of how to navigate the depths of his feelings. Sihtric stole glances in your direction, admiring your strength and beauty. His mind raced with the desire to strike up a conversation, but he couldn't find the right words. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak.

"I just wanted to thank you for saving me," Sihtric said, his expression serious as he turned to you.

"Saving you? What did I save you from?" you asked, puzzled.

"From feeling miserable, unwanted, and like I didn't belong anywhere," Sihtric replied, glancing into your eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze, his fingers fidgeting with the Thor's hammer amulet hanging around his neck. Nervousness radiated from him, mingled with a charming blend of insecurity and shyness that made a smile curl on your lips.

"You had every reason to hate me for attempting to kill your brother, but you never did. Instead you showed me kindness that I never truly deserved," Sihtric continued.

He had changed so much since the day you first met. You could still recall that evening as vividly as if it were yesterday, when Kjartan's men had tried to take Uhtred's life. They might have succeeded if not for Halig, who noticed the suspicious absence of the newly arrived Danes and urged the others to search for them. You had been on the verge of sleep after a long and busy day. Being a healer in a warrior's camp meant there was always an abundance of injuries to tend to, even without a battle. Men would hurt themselves during sword training, get kicked by horses, or foolishly engage in fights over trivial matters. Today, you had to fix a dislocated shoulder all because of an argument about the best whore at the White Goose tavern in Lundene. The shouts and clash of swords roused you from your slumber, causing you to hastily dress and rush out of your tent. Expecting yet another drunken brawl, you sought to find Uhtred and put an end to it. However, by the time you arrived, the fighting was already over. You approached the gathering of men, only to discover five lifeless Danes being dragged away from the lawn behind the stables.

"Uhtred!" you called out, fear lacing your voice as you saw him leaning against a stable pillar, breathing heavily. "Are you hurt?"

"All is fine. Don't worry, little sis. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for our Danish guests, but don't fret, they won't be needing your attention," Uhtred grinned, attempting to lighten the atmosphere as he noticed your concerned expression.

"Let me check on you," you insisted, pulling him closer to the torchlight so you could assess his injuries. At first glance, there were some bruises and a swollen eye, but no apparent serious damage. His movements lacked any signs of pain or hesitation, indicating that he likely didn't have any broken ribs. Still, you were reluctant to let him go, but Uhtred firmly took hold of your hands, kissing your palms, and with a determined voice, called out to the men dealing with the corpses behind you: "Secure the prisoner. I'll need answers from him later."

"I'm fine, sis. Truly, I am. Please don't worry," he reassured you, turning to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. Apart from Ragnar, Uhtred's Danish brother, the two of you were all that remained of your family, and the bond between you had always been remarkably strong. You loved this proud, stubborn, and courageous young man, and he cared deeply for you.

Reluctantly, you turned your head to catch a glimpse of the young, bruised Dane, his hands awkwardly tied before him as Clapa dragged him away. The Dane was in a pitiful state, with fresh cuts and scrapes covering his arms, a split eyebrow, and a bleeding lip and nose. Anxiety radiated from his tense body. In a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you detected a flicker of despair within them. It struck you how young and handsome he appeared, despite his current circumstances.

Uhtred's men returned to their respective fireplaces, the evening just beginning. You knew all too well that this minor incident wouldn't deter them from their usual activities of drinking, gambling, and arguing about the “best whores”, as they did almost every night. You had no desire to be part of that. Tomorrow, there would be more dislocated shoulders and broken fingers to tend to, and since Uhtred seemed fine you eagerly longed to return to your tent and go back to sleep.

As you made your way past an empty wagon, you noticed Clapa and Halig engaged in what seemed like an argument. Initially, you hesitated to involve yourself, suspecting it was another petty quarrel you didn't want to be dragged into. However, as you attempted to quietly pass by, your eyes caught sight of the silhouette seated by the wagon. It was the young prisoner, the sole Dane who had survived today's assault on Uhtred's life. His gaze, as he was being dragged away from the small battlefield by Clapa, his hands bound and his face smeared with blood, lingered in your memory. An unexplainable feeling stirred within you, prompting a change of heart, and you headed straight for Clapa and Halig.

“What are you two arguing about? Aren't you supposed to be guarding the prisoner?" you asked with frustration evident in your voice.

"We are, lady!" Clapa replied defensively. "Uhtred ordered us to decapitate the corpses, but Halig lacks the courage to do it."

“That's not true, lady!" Halig interjected hastily. "I just needed a drink first. You can't deny a man a drink, especially one who's tasked with severing heads from still-warm bodies. Besides, it's better to do it later when the blood has thickened. And there's no need for two men to guard a securely tied-up prisoner”

"Alright, enough quarrelling, lads. Halig, go and fetch your drink, and Clapa, get yourself an axe or do you plan on using your eating knife? I'll keep an eye on the prisoner," you ordered firmly. As Uhtred's sister and a skilled healer, you were accustomed to giving orders, and his men knew better than to argue with you. Both departed without hesitation, not bothering to question your decision, although it must have seemed peculiar to them that you wished to remain alone with the prisoner. Turning your gaze towards him, you approached cautiously, maintaining a safe distance just in case.

“Are you hurt?" you inquired, observing the Dane who sat beside the wagon, his back resting against the wheel. He raised his head, confusion, and distress evident in his eyes. He didn't respond just shook his head.

“Your lip and nose have been bleeding quite profusely. Wait here, I'll fetch my bag," you said with a chuckle. "How foolish of me, as if he had much choice in the matter," you thought to yourself while making your way to your tent to retrieve your medical supplies. You always kept a bag prepared, stocked with clean rags, salves, potions, and other necessities, ensuring you wouldn't waste time searching when urgently needed.

Returning with your bag and a piece of bread in hand, you offered it to the prisoner, but he made no move to accept. Leaning his head back against the wagon wheel, he closed his eyes. Shrugging your shoulders, you placed the bread back in your bag and instead took out some clean rags and a leather flask filled with water. The Dane opened his eyes, watching your every move. Kneeling before him, you dampened the rags and reached out your hand to cleanse his face. Startled, he instinctively flinched and jerked his head back, accidentally striking it against the wheel, eliciting a groan of pain.

"Hey, stay still. I only want to clean your face," you said, perplexed by his sudden reaction. His whole body tensed as you gently touched his forehead and continued to clean his bruised cheekbones.

"The brow will require stitches," you informed him.

“Why are you doing this?" the Dane spoke, his voice husky but soft. "I am a dead man. Why would you bother stitching my brow if your husband will later torture me for information and then kill me anyway.”

Tilting your head to the side, you continued to wipe away the blood from his face, now focusing on his busted lip and chin.

“I don't have a husband. I have a brother whom you sought to kill tonight," you said, finished with cleaning his face you observed his features intently. "And if there's one thing I know for certain about my brother, it's that he has never tortured anyone, nor will he ever," you couldn't help but think about how handsome this young man was and you felt a pang of sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances. He believed his fate was sealed and had resigned himself to it. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, as if he dared not meet your eyes.

“I didn't want to kill him. I just did not have much choice about it," the Dane's voice remained calm, resolute, and tinged with sincerity. "I only wish Lord Uhtred would grant me the honour of dying as a warrior, sword in hand. And I would willingly share everything I know with him.”

“Not that I fear the pain," he hastily added, "I simply owe no allegiance to Kjartan.”

Unexplainably, you found yourself believing this man. Every word he spoke carried weight, and you suddenly felt deeply sorry for him.

“You are very kind to me, lady," the Dane continued, his voice filled with a sense of shame for being here, for being a part of what had happened. "I don't deserve your attention, but I am immensely grateful for it."

"What's your name?" you found yourself asking, driven by an inexplicable curiosity. It was as if fate had brought this unfortunate young warrior across your path, and a growing resolve began to take shape within you. You did not want to let him to the fate he thought inevitable.

“I am called Sihtric, lady,” the Dane answered with no hesitation. “Would you like to live?" you suddenly asked, as a seemingly absurd idea took hold in your mind.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #arnas fedaravicius #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric x reader #tlk fics #Sihtric fics #sihtric x you #violence

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hawkinspd-wp · 1 year ago

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dating bucky barnes would include:

note: this is intended for mature audiences & will include themes such as nsfw and gore etc. 18+, minors dni ✨

also, i have tried to keep the reader without much description so would work for any gender etc 🤍

—

- bucky and you meet after steve asks you to help him escape after the events of tws.

- you’re initially opposed to the idea but come around to it and the two of you flee to eurpoe

- bucky is incredibly shy to begin with as he struggles to deal with his past and the things he had done

- but once he warms up to you and sees you can be trusted, he is SO loyal.

- he is grateful for your help, and shows this by protecting you and remembering small things about you.

- he picks up small gifts from the places you go to, to remind you of your time together

- your first kiss happened after a life of death event.

- hydra kidnapped you, he saved you - you kissed. no big deal - right?

- wrong. bucky was hung up on the kiss for weeks before he worked up the courage to ask you about it.

- “hey, can i ask you something?” he is so nervous that you’ll say you didn’t mean it, or that you don’t remember.

- but you do, and then you kiss again. then…

- then you have your first time. it’s slow and gentle and both of you take care not to make the other uncomfortable based on past trauma but it is a magical moment

- after that, you’re inseparable.

- steve and natasha tease you both

- like.. a lot

- it breaks your heart when he leaves to go to wakanda but you understand that he needs to get better

- “we have forever, but for now - i just need you to be okay.” you say to him before he goes into cryo

- it’s hard, but you reunite in wakanda and fight side by side

- you sleep in his shirts (which are always big on you)

- when he gets snapped, it is as though the world stops.

- you stand and watch it happen, hoping you’re next but you survive

- you leave the avengers for a while after, struggling after losing the only person you’ve ever loved

- but this only makes it easier to give everything to the final battle

- bucky comforts you when tony dies and you comfort him when steve leaves

- he decides to move in with you

- you adopt alpine together

part 2?

#bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #dating bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader

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reallygroovyninja · 1 year ago

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The Other Side

Madi sank into the stiff hospital chair beside her mother Lexa's bed, the sterile environment barely registering through her exhausted grief. Lexa lay unmoving but for the mechanical rise and fall of her chest in time with the ventilator's rhythmic pulses. Her paper-thin skin was mottled with age, her once bright eyes closed.

Madi clutched Lexa's frail hand, thumb gently stroking over wrinkled knuckles, tears welling up as she braced herself for the painful but inevitable next steps. After many years battling illness, Lexa's health had rapidly declined over the past few months. Despite the best efforts of doctors and medicine, Lexa's aged body could fight no more.

Though every fiber of Madi's being screamed in protest, she knew this was the last loving gift she could give her mother. Lexa had made her wishes clear long ago - she did not want to linger like this. Madi swallowed hard against the ache in her throat. With an unsteady hand, she signed the forms to disconnect Lexa's life support.

"I love you, Mom," Madi whispered, bending to kiss Lexa's cool fingers one final time. Lexa had accepted this end long ago, but Madi wasn't ready to lose her, wasn't ready to face the world without her mother's wisdom and love. But she drew courage from doing what was right, even as her heart splintered.

The doctors and nurses entered solemnly, with the gravity of the moment in their eyes. Madi held Lexa's hand, stroking her skin as the ventilator was silenced. She murmured softly to Lexa as the last breaths faded, hoping her words would give comfort. As the monitors flatlined, Madi's tears spilled over. Though devastated by loss, she found solace knowing her beloved mother was finally free of suffering and at peace.

As the monitors let out their final whine, Lexa felt suddenly weightless, untethered. She found herself still in the hospital room, but strangely detached, observing the scene unfold from the corner.

Madi sat crumpled beside the lifeless body in the bed, clutching the thin hand tightly as wracking sobs overtook her. Lexa's heart broke, wanting more than anything to go to her daughter, to comfort her and ease her pain.

But something stopped her as she tried to step forward. Like a veil had been lifted, Lexa suddenly understood with crisp clarity that she no longer belonged in this world. She was but a spirit now, her mortal form still and silent under the sterile sheets.

As much as it tore at her, Lexa knew she could not touch her daughter again. Madi would have to walk this last stretch of grief alone. Doctors and nurses entered solemnly, but none acknowledged Lexa standing unseen in the corner. She wanted to call out, but no sound left her.

Lexa longed to stay as her daughter needed her most. But she felt the inexorable pull away from the pain and suffering that had marred her last years. Madi would mourn, would miss her terribly, but Lexa knew she would be okay. She had to believe that as she felt herself fading, Madi's cries growing distant. Lexa let go, comforted that Madi was strong enough to carry forward with the love they shared still living on inside her.

As Lexa felt her spirit fading, she noticed a soft glow emerging in the distance. Drawn to its tranquil warmth, she started drifting towards it as if carried by a gentle tide.

The light grew brighter, beckoning her into its comforting embrace. Lexa felt neither fear nor trepidation - only a sense of calm and anticipation, like she was headed exactly where she belonged.

The closer she came to the radiance, the lighter Lexa felt - the pain, the exhaustion, the weight of years lifted until she was free, floating through the glow.

As she crossed the threshold into the light, a feeling of profound peace enveloped Lexa completely. The warmth cascaded over her like a blanket of love, washing away all worries and heartaches from her earthly life.

She glided further into the light, feeling lighter than air. Surrounded by the glow, she sensed herself healing and becoming whole again. Although she would miss her loved ones, she knew they would all be together again one day.

For now, Lexa allowed the tranquility of the light to fill her completely, grateful for this moment of grace. She surrendered herself to it fully, ready to discover what new adventures awaited in this wondrous place beyond.

As the radiant light gently faded around her, Lexa found herself standing in a grassy meadow. A pleasant breeze rustled through the lush green grass dotted with wildflowers swaying gently in the wind.

The meadow opened to a crystal-clear pond, where ducks glided across the serene water. Their quacking mingled with the chirping of birds perched in the trees at the edge of the meadow. It all seemed to blend into a symphony of natural sounds that put Lexa instantly at ease.

She took a deep breath, the fresh floral air filling her lungs. The warmth of sunlight washed over her, basking the meadow in a soft idyllic glow. As Lexa soaked in the tranquil beauty surrounding her, she felt profoundly at peace.

All worries and pains from her past life melted away. Here there was only this perfect moment - the ducks babbling on the pond, the rustling grass, the melodies of songbirds. She knew this was only the beginning of the wonders that awaited her now that she had passed on. But for now, Lexa was content to stand still and savor the serenity of this meadow.

Lexa stood transfixed in the serene meadow, still coming to terms with her passage into the afterlife. As she breathed in the peaceful surroundings, a familiar voice suddenly spoke behind her.

"Lexa…"

She whirled around, heart leaping. There, bathed in warm sunlight, stood Clarke. Lexa's hands flew to her mouth, tears instantly springing forth. Her wife, her soulmate, looked radiant and healthy, the cancer that had stolen her away now banished.

"Clarke!" Lexa rushed forward, pulling Clarke into a fierce embrace. She clung to her, sobs racking her body. The feel of Clarke solid and real in her arms again was almost too much to bear. Lexa pressed desperate kisses to her wife's shoulder, hair, forehead, tears flowing freely.

"My Clarke…you're here, you're here," she repeated in awe, still unable to believe this reunion.

Clarke held her shaking wife close, her own eyes glistening. "I told you we'd meet again, love," she murmured into Lexa's hair. They stayed locked in each other's arms for timeless moments, the rest of the world fading away.

Finally, Lexa drew back just enough to cradle Clarke's face in her hands. She reverently traced every beloved curve and line with her fingers, re-memorizing what her heart had never forgotten.

"I've missed you so much. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you," Lexa rasped emotionally.

Lexa trembled, still stunned by Clarke's sudden appearance. "How can you be here?" she whispered.

Clarke's eyes creased with understanding. She gently cupped Lexa's cheek; touch achingly familiar. "Oh, love, I never left you."

Lexa's breath caught, tears overflowing. "You were with me…all this time?"

"I was." Clarke's voice was thick with emotion. "I watched you grieve. I saw your strength as you learned to live without me. I cheered your joys and cried your sorrows."

She took Lexa's hands, voice fervent. "Even when you couldn't feel me there, I walked every step beside you. I was so proud of you, Lexa. Your courage, your heart…you shone so brightly, even through the pain."

A sob escaped Lexa's throat. She surged forward, capturing Clarke's lips desperately, trying to meld their souls back into one. Clarke returned the kiss with equal fervor, hands tangling in Lexa's hair.

They clung together bruisingly tight, making up for decades apart. Lips and tongues spoke wordless languages of sorrow, of joy, of devotion.

When they finally parted for air, cheeks wet with sorrow and elation, Lexa knew no force could ever sunder them again. Gazing into Clarke's ocean eyes, she found home.

Clarke gently spoke. "There's someone else here who wants to see you, love."

Before Lexa could reply, a wry voice called out, "Still stealing my sister, Clarke?"

Lexa turned to see Anya striding up, trademark smirk in place. Overjoyed, Lexa rushed to embrace her.

"Anya! Is it really you?" She clung tight, breathing deeply the familiar scent of home.

Anya chuckled and squeezed back. "You didn't think I'd let Clarke monopolize your arrival?"

Clarke laughed. "Competitive as always, Anya."

"You know me well." Anya smiled tenderly at her sister. "I've missed you so much, Lexa."

"And I missed you," Lexa replied emotionally.

Anya kept an arm wrapped around Lexa's shoulders and gestured ahead. "Come, walk with me. We have a lot to talk about, little sister."

As they strolled through the lush meadow, Lexa noticed a change in Anya's demeanor and presence.

"You seem different, Anya," Lexa remarked. "Lighter, somehow."

Anya rolled her eyes dramatically. "That's what happens when you kick the bucket, Lexa. Sudden onset of rainbows and butterflies."

Lexa chuckled at her sarcasm. "No, really. You're practically…happy."

"Don't sound so surprised," Anya shot back, eyes glinting with humor. "I know I had a reputation for being stern and intimidating-"

"Downright scary," Lexa interjected with a grin.

"But death has a way of lifting burdens and revealing truth," Anya continued. "Turns out under all the gruffness, I'm just an old softy."

As they strolled through the meadow, Anya piped up in her signature blunt tone, "So, little sister, time for you to take a trip down memory lane."

Lexa blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, relive the highlight reel of your life," Anya replied matter-of-factly with a wave of her hand. "All the greatest hits and embarrassing moments."

Clarke shot Anya an exasperated yet amused look. "What she means is you'll revisit impactful memories to process them in a new light."

"Basically mental spring cleaning," Anya quipped with a smirk.

Lexa frowned uncertainly. "Is it…difficult?"

Clarke smiled reassuringly, giving her hand a squeeze. "It can be emotional, but it brought me a lot of clarity and closure."

"Yeah, grab the tissues, sis," Anya said wryly. Seeing Lexa's nervous expression, she softened and hugged her. "Hey, we'll be right there with you. I promise I'll go easy on the teasing…for a few memories at least."

That coaxed a small laugh from Lexa. With Clarke and Anya by her side, she felt ready. "Okay then, let's do this."

Anya playfully ruffled her hair. "Look at you, brave as ever. Lead on, ladies."

And arm in arm, they carried on through the meadow, Lexa ready to rediscover and find peace in a life fully lived, bumps and all.

As they crested a hill, a quaint cottage came into view. Clarke and Anya exchanged a knowing glance before guiding Lexa inside.

The cottage's interior held a cozy screening room, with plush couch facing a blank wall-sized screen.

Anya plopped down and propped her feet up. "Kick back and relax, sis. We're binge-watching Life of Lexa: The Extended Director's Cut."

Clarke shot Anya a look as she gently led Lexa to sit. "What Anya means is that this is where you'll revisit significant moments and memories."

She gave Lexa's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know it's daunting, but we'll be right here. It really helped me find closure."

Lexa anxiously fiddled with her shirt hem, comforted by Clarke's words yet nervous to relive the past.

Noticing her unease, Anya leaned over to nudge Lexa playfully. "Hey, try to enjoy it! At least we'll get to see all your most embarrassing baby photos."

That surprised a small laugh out of Lexa. With Anya's humor and Clarke's support, she felt ready to reflect on a life fully lived. As the screen flickered to life, Lexa took a deep breath and laced her fingers with Clarke's, grateful not to be taking this journey alone.

The screen flickered showing a young, exhausted Gustus cradling newborn Lexa while toddler Anya clung to his leg. Despite the heavy bags under his eyes, he gazed at his girls with pure love.

Anya gave a sad smile, seeing their father adjust to suddenly being a single parent again after Anya's own mother passed away in childbirth and Gustus remarrying a few years later.

The scene changed to Gustus sitting the girls down, tears in his eyes as he explained Lexa’s mother had left, realizing too late she wasn't ready for motherhood. Little Anya boiled with rage while baby Lexa gurgled innocently, unaware of her abandonment.

More memories followed of Gustus patiently juggling parenting, work, grief. The strong man cried alone at night, then got up to cheerily care for the girls like nothing was wrong.

Lexa's eyes brimmed with tears as understanding washed over her. "He sacrificed everything for us…and never let us feel like we weren't enough."

Anya nodded, also emotional. "He was our rock. I'm so proud of the father he was."

Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hand, pride and sorrow swirling within her at the loves gained and lost in life. But with Anya's steady humor and Clarke's embrace, Lexa felt ready to continue discovering the meaning woven through it all.

The screen transitioned to a young Lexa sitting alone at a school lunch table, reading a book and shyly avoiding eye contact with rowdy classmates.

Another scene showed Lexa eagerly raising her hand in class, thirsty for knowledge. "My little nerd," Anya said affectionately, ruffling Lexa's hair.

Then the playground appeared. A group of older kids taunted and pushed a small boy to the ground. Before adults could intervene, Lexa marched up and put herself between them, yelling at the bullies until they backed off.

Clarke smiled proudly as young Lexa helped the boy up and walked with him to the nurse's office.

"You were always protecting the vulnerable," Clarke murmured. Lexa blushed but felt warmed revisiting this early act of courage.

The screen shifted to show teenage Lexa dutifully going through classes, clubs, and studying late into the night, a permanent crease of concentration between her brows. Clarke and Anya smiled fondly, seeing traces of the studious girl they loved.

But beneath Lexa's focused exterior, pain lurked in her downturned eyes whenever friends gushed about crushes on boys or going on dates. At night, Lexa buried her head in her pillow to muffle sobs, clutching her stomach as she grappled alone with her sexuality.

She ached to confide in someone, but shame and fear kept the words locked deep inside. Lexa was terrified of disappointing the loving father who had sacrificed everything for her. She longed to be 'normal', for these feelings to just disappear.

Anya gripped Lexa's shoulder tightly. "Lexa…I had no idea you carried this alone. You should have told me."

Lexa sighed, leaning into her sister. "I thought I had to hide it from everyone. I thought I could change it through sheer will."

"Oh, my darling." Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa, kissing her temple. "Your beautiful heart has always been your greatest gift. I'm so sorry you suffered in silence."

The screen faded to a young Lexa starting a summer job before college, her smile lighting up whenever a certain co-worker entered. A furtive glance here, a lingering touch there…it was clear a bond was forming between the two girls.

Lexa had yet to fully embrace her identity, but with this girl - Costia - she glimpsed a hopeful future. In Costia's eyes, Lexa could imagine a life where she loved freely, without shame or fear.

The summer passed in a blissful haze for the infatuated pair. Lingering caresses after closing up the shop, midnight drives with hands intertwined, dreaming aloud of plans bigger than their small town.

But as summer waned, reality began to crack through the idyllic façade. This relationship was only meant to last the magical months before college took them on diverging paths.

Lexa's face crumpled as she watched the screen, heart breaking anew as her younger self grappled with her first love ending. Anya wrapped a sturdy arm around her, wordlessly imparting strength.

While intensely painful, this experience taught Lexa resilience and, in time, empathy for her young, eager self. It taught her that love, however fleeting, was a gift to be grateful for rather than resent.

With a deep breath, Lexa squeezed Clarke's hand, signaling she was ready to continue reliving her past with poise - the heartaches and the joys having shaped the woman she became.

The screen shifted to a college dorm room, Lexa perched anxiously on the bare mattress. She glanced around at the sterile emptiness - her new home. It was move-in day and her roommate had yet to arrive.

Lexa felt utterly alone, homesickness already settling into her gut. She missed her dad's awful cooking and Anya's playful teasing. Everything here felt foreign and lonely.

A phone call from Gustus barely holding back the tears. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. You've got this," he said gently before hanging up.

Lexa lay back on the mattress, letting the tears fall freely now. She whispered into the empty room, "I don't know if I can do this."

Anya rubbed Lexa's back as they watched. "It's always hardest at first, little sis. But you showed real strength."

Clarke nodded. "This was just the start of finding yourself. We're here now."

Lexa smiled gratefully through bittersweet tears. With her family's love, she could view that scared girl with compassion, proud of the independent woman she was becoming.

The screen transitioned to show Lexa sitting in a crowded lecture hall on her college campus. Students chattered around her, but Lexa was lost in her own thoughts, doodling idly in her notebook.

When a blonde girl suddenly entered the room, Lexa's gaze was drawn to her immediately, as if by gravity. The chatter and noise of the room seemed to fade around the mystery girl's radiant presence.

Lexa watched, transfixed, as the girl confidently picked a seat and got settled, unaware of Lexa's eyes tracking her every movement. Lexa spent the rest of the class stealing glances at the beautiful, intriguing stranger instead of paying attention.

"Well would you look at that, I left quite an impression," Clarke teased, nudging Lexa playfully. Lexa smiled bashfully at being caught mooning over Clarke.

"You certainly did," Lexa murmured affectionately, giving Clarke a quick peck on the cheek before turning back to the screen, eager to relive the memories of how they first fell in love.

The screen faded back in to Lexa's sophomore year. That captivating blonde Clarke still caught her eye around lectures, her smile making Lexa's heart skip a beat each time. But Lexa could never quite work up the nerve to approach her.

Instead, a connection blossomed with Luna, a clever brunette who sat near Lexa in economics. Their classroom banter quickly led to inside jokes and study sessions that felt more like playful dates.

Lexa felt herself falling - Luna's quick wit, creativity, and fiercely independent spirit drawing her in. And being able to finally hold a girl's hand out in public on campus filled Lexa's heart to bursting.

For a time, it was perfect. But slowly, the laughter came less easily, the kisses less passionate. As the months passed, they both sensed this relationship had an expiration date. Still, Lexa knew she'd grown from loving Luna deeply, if not forever.

When they parted ways, Lexa mourned what they'd had. But she emerged wiser about listening to her heart's truths, unafraid of where it might lead next. More than ever, she felt ready to be bold when the right person came along.

And as the screen's scene changed, Lexa gave Clarke's hand a grateful squeeze, knowing where fate had guided her all along.

The screen showed Lexa reluctantly attending a party at the urging of her roommate. Loud music and crowds were not her scene. But when she spotted Clarke running out the door in tears, Lexa instantly rushed after her without a second thought.

She found Clarke curled up on a bench, mascara smudged down her cheeks. Tentatively, Lexa sat beside her and passed over a tissue. Clarke poured her heart out about walking in on her boyfriend Finn cheating.

Lexa listened and validated Clarke's pain. She spoke about her own experiences of being betrayed in the past. Their conversation flowed naturally as they realized how much they could relate to one another.

In comfort there was an undeniable connection - one that wouldn't be ignored again. Lexa walked Clarke home, both feeling they'd made a true friend to face life's ups and downs with. It was the start of something meaningful.

The screen jumped ahead to show Clarke and Lexa laughing together as they strolled across campus. In the months since the party, the two had become incredibly close friends.

Lexa's heart leapt whenever she was near Clarke. As they did homework together in the library, Lexa often found herself lost in Clarke's eyes instead of her textbooks.

She ached to reveal her true feelings, but fear held her back. Lexa was terrified of jeopardizing their precious friendship if Clarke didn't feel the same way.

So, Lexa kept her love silent and cherished every moment with Clarke - movie nights snuggled under blankets, cheering at sporting events, long talks lying under the stars.

Clarke remained oblivious to Lexa's pining looks and constant blushing. Lexa almost found the courage to confess her love, but the year ended with the words left unsaid.

"Don't worry, you'll tell me soon enough," Clarke reassured Lexa playfully, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. Lexa smiled and pulled Clarke closer as they resumed reminiscing.

Clarke was venting to Lexa about another infuriating date. "Ugh, at this point I'm ready to swear off men forever," she huffed.

She dramatically flopped backwards onto the bed. "Maybe I should just fully embrace being bisexual instead. Guys are the worst."

Lexa chuckled at her friend's theatrics. "Hey, nothing wrong with batting for both teams."

Clarke tilted her head. "Ha, good point," she replied with a grin.

Lexa smiled warmly. "However, you choose to identify is cool with me. I'll support you no matter what."

"Aww, you're the best," Clarke said appreciatively, giving her a quick side hug.

They chatted more about Clarke's dating woes and future plans. Lexa was just happy her friend felt comfortable being open about who she was.

Clarke laughed as the memory faded. "I was trying so hard to give you hints that I was interested in girls too," she said, turning to Lexa. "But you were oblivious!"

Lexa smiled sheepishly. "I know, I was too nervous to let myself believe you could like me as more than a friend."

"I definitely had a crush on you by then," Clarke admitted. "I'm glad we finally got on the same page."

She squeezed Lexa's hand affectionately before they turned back to watch the rest of their love story unfold.

The scene shifted again to Lexa fidgeted anxiously with her hands. She had to tell Clarke how she felt before they left for school.

"Clarke, I need to be honest about something," she started, heart racing. "I care about you as way more than a friend. And leaving you is killing me because…because I think I'm falling in love with you."

Clarke's eyes went wide, her breath hitching. For an agonizing moment Lexa was terrified she'd made a mistake.

But then Clarke surged forward, crashing their lips together clumsily in her urgency. Lexa melted into the passionate kiss; all her longing finally laid bare.

When they parted both were tearful, foreheads pressed together. "I'm so in love with you too," Clarke whispered emotionally. "I've been dying to tell you."

"Long distance will suck so much, but we'll make this work, I promise," Clarke vowed fiercely.

The scene shifted again as Clarke got up briefly from the bed she was sharing with Lexa.

Alone with her swirling thoughts, Lexa was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotions she hadn’t fully processed earlier. Tears of joy welled up unexpectedly as she thought about how special this moment was, how deeply she cared for Clarke.

When Clarke returned from the bathroom, she noticed Lexa quickly wipe at her eyes. "Hey, what's going on?" Clarke asked gently as she slid back under the covers. She tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Lexa's face.

Lexa gave a watery smile, debating whether to share what she was feeling.

Sensing Lexa's hesitation, Clarke took her hands. “Talk to me, love,” she urged with care.

Lexa took a shaky breath. “Just feeling very blessed and overcome right now,” she admitted honestly.

Lexa turned to Clarke, her expression open and vulnerable. “You're my first, Clarke. I’ve never been intimate with anyone before you.” She glanced down shyly.

Clarke's eyes softened with empathy. She pulled Lexa into a warm embrace. “I didn’t know this is your first time, love,” Clarke whispered, stroking Lexa's hair. “I assumed you and Luna had been together that way.”

Lexa nestled into Clarke, relieved she understood. "I was scared to share that before. But with you, this feels different. I’ve never felt closer to or trusted someone enough to be that vulnerable until now.”

Clarke smiled and kissed Lexa tenderly, conveying all the love in her heart then she murmured. “I’m honored to be your first.”

They held each other in the dark, this new depth to their connection bringing them even closer together.

As the scene on screen showed Clarke and Lexa's first time becoming intimate, Anya suddenly sat up and waved her hands.

"Whoa there, that's my cue to give you two some privacy," she exclaimed, shielding her eyes dramatically.

Lexa and Clarke burst out laughing as Anya leapt up from the couch.

"As happy as I am for you both, I do NOT need to see that kind of thing involving my little sister," Anya joked, pretending to head for the door.

"Oh come on, we're all adults here," Clarke teased back.

"Lalalala, I can't hear you," Anya called out loudly, making a show of covering her ears.

Lexa shook her head in amusement. "Don't worry Anya, it's fading out. We can handle a little romance without trauma."

Anya peeked back cautiously before retaking her seat. "Alright, but if clothes start coming off, I'm out of here!"

The sisters exchanged a playful grin, Anya's humor shining through as always. With lighthearted moments like this, even difficult memories could be fondly recalled.

The screen transitioned to a bustling university quad filled with graduating students in caps and gowns. Lexa spotted Clarke in the crowd and they rushed to embrace, overjoyed on this momentous occasion.

Scanning the audience, Lexa felt her heart swell seeing Anya and her father Gustus waving excitedly. Beside them were Clarke's parents, cheering loudly as they each crossed the stage to accept their diplomas.

After the ceremony, they met up with their family for hugs and photos. "We're so proud of you both," Gustus said, wiping away tears.

"What an amazing journey you've shared," Clarke's mom added warmly.

Anya playfully pretending to inspect their empty diploma cases. "Yep, these look legitimate!"

Everyone laughed together, faces glowing with pride and love on this special day.

Transitioning again Lexa noticed Anya's name flashing on her phone. She answered with a cheerful "Hello!" expecting her usual banter with her sister.

But Anya's solemn tone immediately told her something was wrong. "Lexa, there's been an accident. It's Dad…"

Lexa sank to the floor as Anya relayed what happened, tears already clouding her vision. "No, no, no…" she muttered in disbelief. Her father, her beloved Dad, gone? It couldn't be real.

But the pain in Anya's voice confirmed her worst fears. Lexa's whole body felt numb, unable to comprehend life without her father's steady presence. Anya stayed on the phone for hours, grieving together.

In the painful days that followed, Clarke became Lexa's rock - holding her up as she cried, making sure she took care of herself. At the funeral, they clung tightly to each other for support.

Watching the painful scene unfold, Anya's eyes glistened with tears. The grief still felt raw and immediate, even after all this time. She reached over and gently squeezed Lexa's shoulder in silent solidarity.

Clarke's heart ached for the girl she loved, knowing firsthand the agony of losing a father. She gripped Lexa's hand a little tighter, remembering how she had clung to Lexa for support on that awful day of her own father’s funeral.

Lexa placed her hand over Clarke's, drawing strength from her presence now as she had back then in her darkest moments. It had taken time, but together they had found their way through the grief.

The screen flashed to Lexa sitting on the edge of an unmade bed, gazing emptily around a messy dorm room. Textbooks and papers were strewn everywhere.

There was a knock on the door and Clarke entered slowly. "Hey Lexa," she said softly, surveying the disarray with worried eyes.

Lexa didn't respond, staring blankly at the floor. Dark circles shadowed her eyes and it looked like she hadn't showered in days.

Clarke's heart broke seeing her girlfriend so despondent. She sat gently next to Lexa and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"The school called. They're worried about you," Clarke said delicately. Lexa just shrugged, eyes never leaving the floor.

Clarke rubbed her back. "I hate to see you struggling like this. Why don't you come stay with me for a while in Arkadia after the semester?"

Lexa finally met her gaze, eyes swimming with tears. "I dropped out of the program, Clarke. I just can't anymore." Her voice cracked as she collapsed into Clarke's arms.

The screen shifted to show Lexa slowly carrying boxes into Clarke's cozy apartment, her eyes downcast and movements heavy. She disappeared into the guest room without a word.

Over the next weeks, Lexa rarely emerged - either crying or staring blankly at the walls for hours on end. Clarke brought meals she barely touched and held Lexa when the grief overwhelmed her.

But Clarke never gave up hope. One sunny morning, she gently coaxed Lexa out to the balcony. Clarke stroked her hair as Lexa closed her eyes and turned her face up to the warm rays, tears glinting on her lashes. It was a start.

Anya watched the painful scenes, arm wrapped tightly around her sister even now. Clarke held Lexa's hand, heart swelling with pride at the incredible strength Lexa had shown even in her darkest moments.

As Lexa gradually emerged from the darkness of grief, she spent many late nights talking with Clarke about what truly mattered most to her.

"I don't think I want to continue down the path of getting an MBA," she admitted one evening after a long reflective walk. "Pursuing that degree was more about making good money than passion."

Clarke nodded, letting her continue.

"If I've learned anything from losing Dad, it's that life is short and unpredictable. I want to spend my years helping people in need, making a real difference."

Lexa took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to become a lawyer instead. Focusing on human rights or immigration law. What do you think?"

Clarke's face lit up with a proud smile. She took both of Lexa's hands in hers. "I think that sounds absolutely perfect for you. Your compassion and drive to protect the vulnerable have always been so inspiring." Lexa teared up at Clarke's wholehearted support.

The screen shifted to Lexa poring over LSAT study books and filling out law school applications with renewed energy. Clarke brought her coffee as she worked, exchanging excited smiles over this hopeful new chapter ahead.

Though the grief still came in waves, Lexa now had direction again. She felt her father's spirit urging her on as she pursued a career that honored the values of justice and service he had instilled in her.

With Clarke cheering her on, Lexa boldly stepped forward, determined to help others even as she still healed herself. Gustus would be proud of the strong, purpose-driven woman she was becoming.

The screen flashed forward several years to a bustling law school graduation. Clarke cheered loudly as Lexa crossed the stage, beaming with pride and clutching her hard-earned diploma.

After celebrating with Clarke and Anya, Lexa prepared for job interviews, focused on finding work that could make an impact.

The scene transitioned to show Lexa on her first day at a small law firm specializing in immigration cases. She entered her modest office, setting down a box of belongings and taking a moment to soak it all in.

Lexa gazed at the family photos she arranged on her desk, drawing strength from those who believed in her. Then she took a deep breath and began preparing for her first client meeting.

Over the next months and years, Lexa built a reputation as a caring, driven attorney fighting for immigrant clients seeking green cards, work visas, citizenship, and asylum.

She worked tirelessly, knowing each case represented the hopes and livelihood of entire families. Though often uphill battles, each small victory spurred Lexa on.

At times the work was heavy and frustrating, but Lexa persisted, constantly reminded of why she chose this path. There at her law firm, she had found her calling.

Clarke and Lexa snuggled together on the couch one evening, Clarke drawing comforting circles on Lexa's back.

Lexa took a deep breath before voicing something on her mind lately. "Clarke, what would you think about starting a family together?"

Clarke's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "You mean having a baby?"

Lexa nodded, suddenly shy. "Only if you want to, of course. But being with you these past years, building a life together…it feels like the right time to grow our family."

Clarke tilted her head thoughtfully. "We've never talked about kids. Is this something you've been thinking about a lot?"

"I have," Lexa said. "Seeing how nurturing you are with your patients…it made me realize I want a child with you."

Lexa entwined their hands. "We'd make such amazing mothers." Her voice grew thick with emotion.

Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, equally moved. "I can't think of anything I want more than to raise a child together with you."

Their eyes locked, brimming with happy tears. Clarke pulled Lexa into a deep kiss, hope and joy spilling over at the promise of this new chapter ahead.

After many heartfelt discussions, Clarke and Lexa decided to move forward with starting a family together. They met with fertility specialists to begin the process.

The screen showed Lexa sitting anxiously in a doctor's office, clutching Clarke's hand tightly as they discussed options. Though the treatments could be draining, Lexa bravely moved forward.

There were many early mornings for appointments, injections of hormones, and procedures. Through it all, Clarke supported Lexa unwaveringly, keeping her spirits up.

Until finally, after months of effort, Lexa was able to take a pregnancy test and see those long-awaited two lines. The screen flashed to Lexa staring in awe at the positive result before pulling Clarke into a tearful embrace.

At the first ultrasound, they held hands tightly, overflowing with emotion as they heard their baby's heartbeat for the very first time. This tiny life they had dreamed of was real.

Though pregnancy came with discomforts, Lexa took it all in stride, rubbing her growing belly and feeling incredibly blessed. She and Clarke spent hours discussing baby names, decorating the nursery, and reading parenting books together.

As the screen showed a pregnant Lexa looking pale and nauseous, Anya gave her sister a playful nudge. "Morning sickness got you good, didn't it sis?" she ribbed lightheartedly. "I remember you living in the bathroom for weeks."

Lexa rolled her eyes but smiled good-naturedly at Anya's teasing. "Oh don't remind me," she laughed. "I was so sick at first I could barely get off the floor some days."

The sisters chuckled together, Anya's humor helping put the more difficult moments of pregnancy into perspective.

Against the odds, their little miracle was on the way. The screen showed Lexa beaming with one hand on her pregnant belly and the other wrapped around Clarke, their faces glowing with love and hope.

As the scenes from Lexa's pregnancy played across the screen, Clarke couldn't help but smile at the precious memories. She glanced over at Lexa, heart swelling as she remembered rubbing her ever-growing belly, feeling their baby kick for the first time. Clarke gave Lexa's hand a squeeze, reminiscing on those magical months spent preparing their home and lives for the priceless gift on the way.

The screen flashed to Lexa doubled over and breathing heavily as her water broke suddenly. Clarke rushed her to the hospital, hands clasped together.

After hours of painful contractions, Lexa was exhausted but continued pushing valiantly to bring their baby into the world. Clarke encouraged her through each contraction, wiping the sweat from her brow.

The nurses voiced concerns as labor progressed slowly. Lexa felt wracked with pain and fear but persevered, determined to safely deliver their daughter.

With Clarke by her side, she endured a grueling labor that stretched on nearly two days. Finally, with a last anguished push, their baby entered the world.

A piercing first cry filled the room and the nurses placed the wailing newborn on Lexa's chest. Tears of joy streamed down both mothers' cheeks as they gazed in awe at their daughter for the very first time.

In that transcendent moment, the painful labor faded away and overwhelming love took over. They had decided if it was a girl, her name would be Madilyn - Madi for short.

Lexa dropped kisses to her daughter's head, marveling at this miraculous child they were blessed to call their own. Their family was now complete.

As the poignant moments of Madi's birth and first meeting played out on the screen, both Clarke and Lexa felt tears well up. They clutched each other's hands tightly, emotions flooding over them.

Lexa let out a soft gasp, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she watched her exhausted but elated first embrace with baby Madi.

Clarke's eyes shimmered with happy tears seeing that powerful instant when they became mothers. She leaned into Lexa, feeling her body shaking with sobs.

They cried together, reliving the awe, joy and magic of bringing their precious daughter into the world. The tears were ones of overwhelmed gratitude for the lives they had created together.

As Clarke and Lexa wept watching baby Madi being born, Anya playfully elbowed her sister.

"Oh come on you two, turn off the waterworks," she ribbed with a smirk. "I know you're both saps but this is getting overly mushy, even for you."

Clarke and Lexa laughed through their tears, Anya's good-natured humor helping lighten the intensely emotional moment.

"We can't help it, it was just such a powerful memory," Clarke replied, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah Anya, just wait until we get to your birth scene," Lexa joked back with a watery chuckle.

"Don't worry, I made sure they didn't include the scene where you were my birth coach," Anya quipped with a smirk. "Some memories need to stay far away from this highlight reel."

The screen jumped ahead, showing a montage of cherished family moments of Madi as a baby and toddler.

There was a beaming young Madi on a camping trip, proudly holding up the first fish she caught.

Another showed Lexa and Clarke cuddled up with hot cocoa, watching Madi open presents on Christmas morning.

It flashed to the family laughing around a dinner table, Madi excitedly recounting her first day of kindergarten.

There were tender scenes of bedtime stories and family movie nights all snuggled together on the couch.

The montage rolled on to reveal Madi growing up - spelling bee wins, dance recitals, soccer games where her moms cheered loudly from the sidelines.

There were also glimpses into Lexa's meaningful work - celebrating citizenship ceremonies with clients, late nights prepping compelling court cases.

The screen jumped ahead to show a teenaged Madi arguing heatedly with Clarke and Lexa.

"You can't control my life!" she yelled, face red. "I'm going out with my friends whether you like it or not."

Clarke and Lexa exchanged worried looks. "We know you're growing up, but our rules are there for a reason," Clarke said evenly.

"Ugh I hate living here!" Madi shot back spitefully. "You never let me have any freedom." She grabbed her bag and stormed out the door.

Lexa sank onto the couch and put her head in her hands as the door slammed shut. "I thought we had a good relationship. Where did we go wrong?" she asked Clarke despairingly.

Clarke rubbed her back. "She's just pushing boundaries like all teens do. We'll get through this together."

The scenes progressed to more explosive fights as Madi pushed back against her mothers' attempts to set reasonable limits. She stayed out late, ignored calls, and refused to do chores or homework.

Though it was a painful phase, Lexa and Clarke did their best to react calmly. They knew this was part of Madi growing into an independent young woman. With patience and love, their family would find its way.

As the scenes moved closer to the fateful night of Madi's accident, Clarke instinctively tightened her grip on Lexa's hand. Lexa looked over; eyes full of sorrowful knowing.

They had lived through this painful memory once already. Now, watching those worried moments build towards the devastating late-night police visit was almost unbearable.

Clarke felt Lexa begin to tremble as the officer appeared at their doorway on-screen. She wrapped a steadying arm around her wife, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"I've got you," Clarke murmured. "We'll get through this together again."

Lexa clutched Clarke like a lifeline, tears escaping down her cheeks. Even knowing the relief that would come, those harrowing hours of uncertainty were overwhelming to re-live.

But Clarke's solid embrace and reassurance kept Lexa grounded. They had weathered the storms of life side-by-side before. This time, they knew Madi would ultimately be okay.

With Clarke's hand gripped firmly in hers, Lexa found the strength to face the accident aftermath once more. Their unbreakable bond helped soothe even the most painful memories.

"There's been an accident involving your daughter Madi," he relayed grimly. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Clarke gasped, hand flying to her mouth as Lexa stumbled back against the wall in shock. "Is she…" Clarke started, unable to finish the sentence.

"Alive but in critical condition," the officer confirmed. "I'll drive you there."

The scene changed to a waiting room where Lexa paced frantically while Clarke sat with her head in hands, both beside themselves with worry.

Finally, a doctor came out. "Your daughter is stable now. She has a concussion, some internal bleeding, and a broken arm, but we expect her to recover."

Clarke and Lexa collapsed into each other's arms, overwhelmed with relief that Madi would be okay after the harrowing accident.

When they were finally allowed in to see her, Madi broke down crying. "I'm so sorry Mom and Mama. Please forgive me," she said through tears.

They rushed to embrace her gently. "We're just thankful you're alive," Clarke murmured, kissing Madi's forehead. Lexa could only nod, too emotional to speak.

Though long recoveries lay ahead, their family was reunited and the tensions of Madi's teenage years seemed to melt away in the face of this trauma. What mattered most was health and love.

As the screen flashed through scenes of Madi's difficult teenage years and traumatic accident, it became too much for Lexa. She stood up abruptly, shaking.

"I'm sorry, I need a break from this for a few moments," she said shakily, stepping away from the screen.

Clarke quickly paused the memory playback. She went to Lexa and enveloped her in a comforting hug.

"It's okay, let's take a breather outside," Clarke said gently. She kept an arm around Lexa as they exited the screening room to sit on a bench overlooking the idyllic meadow.

The fresh air and change of scenery immediately helped calm Lexa's emotions. She took a few deep breaths as Clarke soothingly rubbed her back.

After some time reflecting in silence, Lexa turned to Clarke. "Thank you for understanding. I just got overwhelmed re-living those painful parts of Madi's life. I needed a pause."

Clarke kissed her tenderly. "Of course, love. We can take this at whatever pace you need."

Lexa smiled gratefully, taking Clarke's hand. With her wife's endless support, she felt ready to continue the journey through their cherished memories - the difficult and the joyful.

After regrouping outside for a while, Clarke and Lexa made their way back into the cozy cottage. Anya had paused the screen on a serene landscape while she waited.

As soon as they entered, Anya went straight to Lexa and enveloped her in a fierce, protective hug.

Lexa melted into her big sister's embrace, feeling the comforting, familiar love they had shared since childhood.

"I know that was really tough to sit through again," Anya murmured, uncharacteristically emotional as she held Lexa tight.

After a long moment, they finally pulled apart. Lexa gave a watery chuckle. "Look at you getting all sentimental on me. You really are just a big old softie now, aren't you sis?"

Anya laughed and ruffled Lexa's hair affectionately. "Don't you dare tell anyone."

Clarke smiled warmly at the sisters' playful banter, heart filled seeing this vulnerable side of Anya.

With her family's steadfast support, Lexa felt ready to continue exploring the memories - the difficult and the beautiful - knowing she didn't have to face them alone.

The screen's tone shifted, now flashing through heartwarming scenes of Madi graduating high school surrounded by her proud, cheering mothers.

More milestone moments followed - Madi ecstatically opening her college acceptance letter, then four years later graduating as valedictorian, celebrating with her family.

It showed Lexa's thrilled smile as she opened the doors to her very own law firm, after years of diligently working her way up.

Clarke was featured accepting a promotion to Head of Pediatrics at her hospital, eyes glistening as she shook her boss's hand.

There were touching scenes of family vacations together - laughing on the beaches of exotic locales, hiking stunning mountain trails, trying new cuisines.

Through it all, Madi happily embraced adulthood as her own woman while remaining close with her mothers. Even as life brought busyness, their family bond endured, carrying them through each season.

As the happy scenes progressed, Anya knew what was coming next. She reached over and grasped Lexa's hand supportively.

Lexa turned to look at her sister, eyes full of sorrowful understanding. Though many years had passed, the loss of Anya had felt far too soon.

"I'm right here with you," Anya said, voice thick with emotion as she gave Lexa's hand a comforting squeeze.

The screen shifted to a lively 50th birthday party for Lexa. Laughing guests mingled with drinks in hand while upbeat music played.

Lexa grinned as she opened gifts. Clarke snapped photos while Anya watched her little sister with pride and affection.

As the night went on, Anya suddenly felt an ominous tightness in her chest. She clutched at it, face distorting in pain. Alarmed, Lexa rushed to her side.

"Anya! What's wrong?"

Anya collapsed forward into Lexa's arms, gasping for breath. Partygoers shouted and scrambled to help as Lexa lowered Anya to the floor, clutching her sister desperately.

"Someone call 911!" Clarke yelled, kneeling beside them. Lexa cradled Anya's head in her lap, tears streaming down her face.

"Just hold on, help is coming," she pleaded. But the light was already fading from Anya's frightened eyes.

With a final rasping breath, Anya went still. The music and chatter died away, leaving only shocked silence and Lexa's anguished sobs as she clung to her sister's lifeless body.

As the screen went dark, Lexa broke down, guttural sobs wracking her body. The trauma of helplessly witnessing Anya's sudden death flooded over her anew.

Anya immediately wrapped Lexa in her arms, holding her shaking sister close. "I've got you, I'm right here," she murmured.

Lexa clung to Anya, tears soaking into her shirt. "Why did you have to leave us so soon?" she wept.

Anya stroked her hair gently. "I know, I know. But my spirit never really left you," she said softly.

They stayed embraced until Lexa's sobs quieted to shaky breaths. Anya kept an arm around her shoulder, providing the same steadfast comfort she had given her little sister all their lives.

Finally Lexa looked up through red-rimmed eyes. "I'm just so grateful we're together again," she whispered hoarsely.

Anya gave a bittersweet smile. "Me too. But no more tears now. We have more happy memories coming."

Lexa nodded and took a deep breath, Anya's reassuring presence helping soothe the lingering ache of loss. She was ready to continue on surrounded by the family she loved.

The scene transitioned to a sunny backyard filled with smiling faces. Lexa stood under a flower-wrapped arch, nervous excitement making her hands tremble.

Clarke appeared, radiant in a simple white dress, and the attendees all stood. Madi walked Clarke down the makeshift aisle, kissing her mother's cheek before placing Clarke's hand in Lexa's.

"After decades of sharing our lives, now feels like the perfect time to make it official," Clarke said, voice thick with emotion.

Lexa blinked back joyful tears. "You've held my heart since the moment we met. I can't wait to finally call you my wife."

In her vows, Lexa professed her unwavering love and admiration for the incredible person Clarke was. Clarke promised Lexa that this was just the beginning of forever together.

As they exchanged rings and kissed tenderly, a cheer went up from those gathered. Though long committed as partners, saying these meaningful vows cemented Lexa and Clarke's soulful bond.

Their patience in waiting for this moment made it all the sweeter. Their union had only grown stronger through a lifetime of ups and downs weathered arm in arm.

As the screen displayed Lexa and Clarke tenderly kissing at the altar, overcome with emotion on their long-awaited wedding day, the real Lexa and Clarke found themselves drawn together.

Clarke cradled Lexa's face and brought their lips together in a mirror of the passionate kiss playing out on-screen.

They held each other close, transported back to the joy and magic of that special moment becoming wives at last.

When they finally pulled back, breathless and beaming, Anya let out a watery chuckle. "Well that was quite the reenactment," she teased gently.

Clarke and Lexa turned to see Anya quickly wiping a stray tear from her eye.

"It's just…I wish I could have been there to see it in real time," Anya admitted thickly.

Lexa immediately went to hug her sister. "I know, I wish that too," she said, holding Anya tight. "But you were there in spirit."

Clarke joined the embrace. No matter what they had lost, this family would always remain woven together at the soul.

The screen jumped to Clarke and Lexa's cozy kitchen, where a nervous Madi sat down with them.

"Moms, I have some big news," she began, fiddling with her hands. "I'm pregnant."

Clarke and Lexa's eyes widened in surprise. They exchanged an emotional look.

Madi took a shaky breath. "We're young, and it's sooner than expected. But Aiden and I have decided we want to raise this child together. You're going to be grandmothers."

Tears sprang to Lexa and Clarke's eyes. They rushed from their seats to embrace Madi, overjoyed at the prospect of a grandchild.

"We're here for you one hundred percent," Clarke said supportively, holding Madi's face in her hands.

Lexa knelt beside Madi "We can't wait to meet this little one," she said, voice thick with emotion.

The screen flipped to a hospital room where Lexa and Clarke cradled a tiny newborn swaddled in a pink blanket. Madi lay resting in the hospital bed while an elated Aiden looked on.

"She's absolutely perfect," Clarke whispered, overcome with emotion as the baby gripped her finger.

"We're so proud of you both," Lexa added through joyful tears, kissing Madi's forehead.

Madi and Aiden shared a loving smile. "We want you to meet your granddaughter, Hope Alison," Madi said softly.

Tears spilled down Lexa and Clarke's cheeks at the meaningful name. "It's beautiful," Clarke choked out. "Welcome to the world, darling Hope."

The new grandparents were over the moon. After all these years, their family was blossoming with new life and boundless love to carry forth into the future.

As the tender scene faded from the screen, Clarke turned to Lexa, eyes crinkling with joy. "Do you remember how tiny and perfect Hope felt in our arms that day?"

Lexa beamed, heart swelling. "I'll never forget it. She was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen."

They shared a happy smile, reminiscing on the emotional day they first met their precious grandchild.

Baby Hope giggling as Clarke and Lexa spoiled her with kisses. Madi announcing another pregnancy, then giving birth to a son, Isaac.

Lexa beaming proudly as she walked little Hope to her first day of school. Clarke cheering loudly at Isaac's T-ball games.

There were birthday parties with lopsided cakes, hugs and laughter. More family vacations, creating new memories together.

Thanksgiving dinners with Aiden's family blending seamlessly with Clarke and Lexa's family.

As Madi's children grew before their eyes, Lexa and Clarke found the simple joys in slow dances, bedtime stories, and rainy days spent playing. Their family expanded with love.

In between it all were tender moments of Clarke and Lexa still in their prime - holding hands contently on sunny park walks, cooking dinner together, trading loving glances across the table.

Caught up in the heartwarming memories playing across the screen, Clarke and Lexa temporarily lost themselves in nostalgia.

They watched Madi and the grandkids laughing together at Christmas, becoming immersed in the tender scene.

Suddenly the screen cut to a doctor solemnly informing Clarke she had stage 2 ovarian cancer. Clarke gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Lexa's chest constricted with remembered pain as scenes flashed of Clarke going through grueling chemotherapy, hooked up to IVs in the hospital.

They gripped each other close, breathing shakily. The happy moments faded as Clarke's challenging treatment played out, her health rapidly declining.

Lexa trembled, Clarke's devastating diagnosis still feeling raw. But Clarke's steady presence beside her kept Lexa grounded, reminding her that they had weathered this storm once before.

The screen showed a pale, exhausted Clarke taking Lexa's hands one day after a painful chemo session.

"I can't keep doing this," she said weakly. "The treatments are destroying my quality of life without much benefit."

Lexa's eyes filled with sorrow, knowing what Clarke was asking.

Clarke gave a sad smile. "I want to spend whatever time I have left being present with you, Madi, and the grandkids - making memories."

Lexa held back tears and nodded. Though it broke her heart, she understood Clarke's choice.

The next scene showed Clarke settled into their bedroom, now converted to a comfortable hospice space with Madi and Lexa caring for her.

Though devastating, Lexa focused on making Clarke's last days special. They looked through old albums, watched home videos, reminisced for hours recalling a beautiful life together.

When the end drew near, Lexa laid in bed holding Clarke close. "I'll always be with you," Clarke whispered. "You gave my life meaning."

Lexa laid beside her in bed, memorizing every detail of Clarke's face, wanting her touch imprinted.

Madi sat on the edge holding Clarke's frail hand, silent tears falling. Aiden stood behind her, hands on Madi's shoulders in solemn support.

As daylight faded, Clarke's breath slowed. Lexa leaned in close, murmuring enduring words of devotion into Clarke's ear.

With a final, peaceful exhale, Clarke went still in Lexa's arms. Lexa bowed her head, pressing a kiss to Clarke's forehead as grief overcame her.

Madi wept, kissing her mother's hand one last time. "We'll look after Mom for you," she promised through sobs.

Lexa clung to Clarke's body, unable to let go. But eventually she surrendered to much needed rest, Clarke's spirit watching over her.

Watching Clarke's final, weakening breaths play out was too much for Lexa. With a broken sob, she turned from the screen directly into Clarke's waiting arms.

Lexa wept into Clarke's shoulder, overwhelmed by the visceral agony of losing her soulmate once more. Clarke held her shaking wife close, whispering soothing words as she stroked her hair.

"I'm here, love. We're together again," Clarke murmured gently. She rocked Lexa as guttural cries racked her body.

Lexa clung to Clarke like a lifeline, tears soaking into her shirt. The pain was just as raw and real. But this time, Clarke's comforting embrace reminded her of the hope ahead.

After long moments wrapped in Clarke's arms, Lexa's cries quieted to shaky breaths. Clarke wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"I will never leave you," Clarke promised, looking deeply into Lexa's eyes. Lexa nodded, finding consolation in their unbreakable spiritual bond.

They turned back to the screen hand in hand, ready to confront the hard moments knowing joy still waited on the other side.

The screen transitioned to a somber funeral, the sky overcast and gray. Lexa stood before the casket as a stream of mourners offered hugs and tearful condolences.

She remained numb throughout the service, Madi's steadying hand on her back the only tether as her soulmate was lowered into the cold earth.

In the painful months that followed, Lexa spiraled into a deep depression. She wandered through the empty house they had shared, Clarke's lingering scent haunting her.

With Madi's gentle coaxing, she started therapy and antidepressants, but Lexa still struggled to find purpose alone. Her will to live had been tied to Clarke.

Most days Lexa could barely get out of bed, wishing only to fade away and join Clarke again. The grief was a heavy darkness threatening to consume her completely.

Lexa had been adrift in her grief for months, unable to even step foot in the law firm that she had built. Her concerned partners kindly kept operations running in her absence.

One day while halfheartedly sorting through neglected case files, one caught Lexa's eye - an immigrant mother of three pleading for asylum to flee a deadly drug lord in her home country.

As she read the detailed death threats and the family's desperate pleas for sanctuary, something in Lexa reignited. This was exactly the kind of case she had founded her firm to take on.

Over the next days, Lexa rigorously prepared their asylum claim, working with a passion she thought was lost. The judge ruled compassionately in the family's favor, granting them safety.

When the weeping mother hugged Lexa tightly in gratitude, she knew this was her calling. Though her heart still ached for Clarke, she could carry on their mission of helping others in need.

One case at a time, Lexa rediscovered purpose. Guiding families to safety like this would have made Clarke proud. Though Lexa would never stop missing her wife, she focused on living meaningful days honoring Clarke's bright legacy.

As the screen showed Lexa fervently preparing asylum cases once more, Clarke turned to her wife with a proud smile. She reached over and squeezed Lexa's hand affectionately.

"Seeing you fight for those families again makes my heart soar," Clarke said tenderly. "You always had such strength and compassion to change lives."

Lexa gave a bittersweet smile, clutching Clarke's hand. Though losing Clarke had shattered her, she now felt called back to purpose - guided by the enduring love they shared.

As the screen showed an older but still vibrant Lexa continuing to work tirelessly at the firm, Anya elbowed her sister playfully.

"Still don't know how to relax, do you sis?" she ribbed. "Most people that age are retired or at least working part time."

Lexa chuckled, eyes crinkling with mirth. "You know I'd have gone crazy just sitting around. Work kept me feeling alive."

"Clearly!" Anya laughed. Lexa smiled and shook her head indulgently.

While Lexa tried to maintain her usual hectic workload, scenes began showing the unavoidable effects of aging.

She moved a bit slower some mornings, needing an extra cup of coffee to combat fatigue. Cases took longer as her eyes grew weary late into the night.

Lexa's partners urged her to scale back her hours, but she waved them off. This firm and its mission had defined so much of her life's purpose.

But her body steadily betrayed her dedication. Arthritis crept into her hands, making typing legal briefs painfully laborious. Her back ached from long days hunched over files.

Lexa reluctantly cut back to part-time, her energy unable to match her drive anymore. She leaned on a cane while still stubbornly making the walk into work each day.

A frail, elderly Lexa was shuffling around her home when suddenly she collapsed. Madi received an emergency call that her mother had suffered a severe stroke.

At the hospital, doctors relayed the grim prognosis to Madi - the stroke had caused too much brain damage for Lexa to recover. She was hooked to a ventilator, her body sustained only by machines.

Madi sat sobbing beside her unresponsive mother, holding her hand as monitors beeped rhythmically. She knew Lexa had not wanted to linger like this. When Lexa first got sick, they'd had the difficult talk about her wishes.

Though it shattered Madi's heart, she requested the doctors discontinue the ventilator keeping Lexa's hollow shell alive. She clung to her mother as the machines were silenced, saying a final goodbye.

Clarke, Lexa, and Anya sat silently as the heartbreaking scene unfolded - Madi weeping over her mother Lexa's hospital bed, making the agonizing choice to let her go.

Watching Madi's raw grief during Lexa's final moments was still profoundly heavy.

Lexa reached for Clarke and Anya's hands, taking comfort in their presence beside her. Seeing her own fragile body giving out was difficult, but the pain of leaving Madi consumed her all over again.

"Oh, my sweet girl," Lexa whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. Anya wrapped a steady arm around her sister in support.

Clarke pressed a kiss to Lexa's hair. "You were so brave at the end, love. And Madi showed such strength staying by your side."

Lexa sighed shakily, soaking in their solace. Though hard to witness her final days, she had made peace with the inevitability of death long ago. Her family's love had seen her through to a gentle farewell.

Now reunited beyond earthly bounds, the three took a moment to honor the passing of Lexa's mortal form. But they found hope and gratitude remembering the vibrant, meaningful life she had lived and the enduring bonds she left behind.

As the screen faded to black, Anya turned to Clarke and Lexa. "I'm going to let you two have some time. I'll be just outside if you need me."

She gave Lexa's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You've been so strong getting through the hardest parts. But I know seeing all that couldn't have been easy."

Lexa offered a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Anya. Some time alone with Clarke sounds nice."

Clarke nodded appreciatively at Anya. After witnessing Lexa's passing, they could both use a quiet moment together to process their emotions.

Anya hugged them both before heading out. Alone now, Clarke took Lexa's hands tenderly. "No more tears, love. Our story didn't end there."

Lexa leaned into Clarke's steady strength. Though reliving the grief was painful, the comfort of Clarke's presence reminded her of the hope and joy still to come.

As they sat reflecting, Lexa turned to Clarke. "What comes next for us?"

Clarke smiled reassuringly. "We have so many choices, love. We can stay here in this tranquil place for as long as we wish."

She cradled Lexa's face. "Or, we could journey back to the living world together and be reborn, make new memories." Clarke kissed Lexa tenderly. "I will follow you anywhere. Our souls are forever bound, in this life and whatever comes after."

Lexa's eyes shone with devotion. She pulled Clarke into a passionate embrace.

"As long as we're together, I'm home," Lexa whispered. "Maybe someday we will live again. But for now, staying here with you sounds perfect."

Clarke held Lexa close. "Then this place will be our paradise."

The cottage glowed around them, ready to reshape into whatever they desired. Lexa and Clarke had an eternity to explore, only guided by their love.

They had weathered all life could give. Now their spirits could journey on unencumbered, always side by side.

Whatever this next chapter held, they had each other to share an infinite journey beyond earthly bounds. Their unbreakable love had defied all trials and separation. Now it would light their way into forever.

As Lexa took Clarke's hand and stepped into the warm glow enveloping the cottage, she felt ready to discover what awaited on the other side - the next chapter of their eternal journey together.

#clexatober23 #clexatober #the other side #I won't lie this one has some sad moments #I was inspired by the movie defending your life #if I remember correctly it was a pretty mediocre movie #anyway its a recap of lexa's life #10898 words #grammerly and word are my betas

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