#sulli stuff

[sailorjisunq]

설리

[l3viat8an]

MC:*pacing back-and-forth in front of Asmo’s bed while ranting about their first kiss with Satan* WHAT THE FUCK?? I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD! YOU LOOK STUPID RIGHT NOW!” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID!! SATAN KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK??? HOW?? THAT WORKED??? WHAT DO I DO NEXT!!??

Asmo:*watching MC and trying not to giggle* Argue harder, next time~ then maybe you two will actually have sex ♡

[dahypoems]

✦⠀ ▒⠀᭝ 䨻⠀🦪 ☆⠀▒ 𖣠⠀꒰ 𝟷𝟸 . ᥆𝟿 ꒱ ᥀ 𓂂

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[d0llcuries]

LYING HAS TO STOP

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: neteyam is haunted by memories he shared with you before he left for awa'atlu

author's note: i think this could technically count as angst but it's more melancholic to me, there's just lots of longing. consider this a warning i suppose. i really can't put it here but listen to “lying has to stop” by clairo while reading for the best experience!! unrelated but i have midterms tomorrow and i haven't studied #yolo !!! 😜 (help me)

neteyam stood on the shore of awa’atlu, watching the sky, it's orange and pink light reflecting off the vast, endless sea. the sky here always seemed too wide, too open, nothing like the comforting embrace of the forest canopy he had grown up beneath. here, there were no towering trees to shelter him, the cool breeze that came off the ocean didn’t carry the scent of the forest, of wet earth and soft moss.

two years had passed since they fled. two years since the sully family left their home, their people, and everything they had known. awal'atu, for all its beauty, for all the new skills and wonders he had discovered, this place would never be home.

home was where she was.

he glanced down at the bracelet that circled his wrist, a simple thing—woven vines and tiny purple and blue beads. he hadn’t taken it off since the day she gave it to him. the memory of that moment was burned into his mind, one of the last things he could hold onto when everything else had been stripped away.

the way her wide, tear-filled eyes had stared up at him, as if she couldn’t quite believe he was leaving. he explained everything to her, his voice breaking as he explained why they couldn’t stay. she had understood, of course. she always understood. but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

the day his family decided to leave the omaticaya had been one of the worst of his life. the guilt of it still weighed heavily on his shoulders. they had no choice—quaritch wasn’t just hunting his father, he was hunting all of them. staying would have put their entire clan in danger, would have brought death and destruction to their people. but leaving... leaving meant abandoning the life they had built. it meant leaving her.

he could still feel the soft warmth of her hands, the trembling in her fingers as they brushed against his skin. and he could still hear the way her voice had cracked when she told him she loved him, right before she kissed him as if for the first time. her lips soft and trembling, her breath warm and uneven, the way she had pressed herself so close to him, as if she were trying to imprint herself into his very soul. he had kissed her back just as fiercely, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

his heart ached at the memory. every night he replayed it over and over, the feel of her, the taste of her, the way her breath had hitched in her throat when he deepened the kiss. he could still taste the salt of her tears, mingling with the sweetness of her lips. it had been bittersweet—knowing it was a goodbye, even if she had promised it wasn’t forever.

forever, neteyam. i’ll wait forever.

he wanted to believe her. he had to believe her. but the distance between them seemed to grow wider with each passing day.

bitterness haunted his heart at the thought of what should have been. they were supposed to be mated by now. it was all so clear back then, so simple. it wasn’t even a question of if, but when. he could still remember the way she had smiled when he first mentioned the possibility of them being mated, how her cheeks had flushed a soft shade of violet, her eyes bright with excitement. he remembered how shy she had been at first, her hands fidgeting nervously as she offered him a carved trinket she had made. a symbol of their courtship. his heart had swelled with pride and affection, and he had taken it from her as if it were the most precious thing in the world. and to him, it was. everything she touched became sacred, imbued with her warmth and care. the future had seemed so sure, so inevitable, like the turning of the seasons or the rise of the sun.

but then quaritch came back, rearing his ugly head into their lives once more, like a demon from some nightmare. everything shifted in that instant. the careful plans they had laid, the promises they had made—all of it was torn apart in the blink of an eye. nothing was certain anymore. nothing was safe.

the metkayina were kind, welcoming. they had taught him to swim, to ride the ilu, to adapt to their ways. but no matter how much he learned, no matter how skilled he became in their ways, neteyam still felt like a stranger. and at night, when the village was quiet and the only sound was the soft lapping of the waves against the shore, he let himself feel it. the loneliness, the heartache, the longing for a life that seemed further away than ever before.

he thought of her constantly. every day, every night. he wondered what she was doing, if she was safe, if she still thought of him the way he thought of her. he would lie awake, imagining what it would be like to see her again. to hold her. to hear her laugh. his mind would drift back to the quiet moments they had shared—the way she would lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder, the way her fingers would trace the lines of his palm as they sat together in the stillness of the forest.

she was always there, in the back of his mind, a constant, aching presence. he would catch glimpses of her in the most unexpected moments—a flash of her smile in the curve of a wave, the sound of her laughter in the distant call of a tulkun. at night, when the village was quiet and the stars reflected off the still water, he let himself remember her fully, let himself drown in the memories of her.

he remembered how she used to laugh, how her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she was truly happy. how she would tug at his braids playfully, teasing him in that soft, affectionate way of hers. he could still hear her voice, soft and melodic, as she whispered his name in the quiet moments they shared alone.

but as the days stretched into months, and the months into years, that trust had started to feel fragile. had she moved on? the thought plagued him, gnawed at him like a festering wound. she had promised to wait, but how long could he really expect her to? he didn’t know when—or if—he would ever return. and if she had found someone else, if she had chosen to be with another, he couldn’t blame her. he knew she had every right to. after all, he had left her. not by choice, but he had still left. he couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold, to wait indefinitely for something that might never happen.

the idea of her being with someone else, though—it tore at him. the thought of another man holding her, kissing her, making her smile the way he used to—it was unbearable.

“neteyam?” his father’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. jake stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable in the fading light. neteyam had grown used to the look—his father’s concern, his quiet observations. “you alright, boy?”

neteyam nodded, though the tightness in his chest told a different story. “yeah.”

jake studied him for a moment, then sighed, stepping closer. “i know this move hasn’t been easy for you,” he said, his voice gentle. “for any of us. but you... you’ve been carrying a lot on your shoulders.”

neteyam glanced down at the sand beneath his feet, not trusting himself to speak. his father didn’t know the half of it.

“ke’loreä’s been asking about you,” jake continued, his tone careful. “she’s a nice girl. strong, kind. maybe you should give her a chance.”

she was kind, sweet even, with a laugh that rang like a bell and sea-green eyes that sparkled when she looked at him. she had taken an interest in him from the beginning, always finding excuses to be near him, to talk to him, to laugh at his jokes, even the ones that weren’t particularly funny.

at first, he hadn’t noticed. or maybe he had, but he hadn’t let himself think about it. but as time passed, it became harder to ignore. she would linger by his side during training, brush her hand against his arm when she spoke, offer to help him with tasks that didn’t require any assistance. she was... nice. there was nothing wrong with her. in fact, she was everything a mate should be.

but she wasn’t his.

“i cannot,” neteyam said, his voice tight. he shook his head, his jaw clenched. “i cannot do that to her.”

“to ke’loreä?” jake asked, raising an eyebrow.

“to yn,” neteyam corrected, his chest tightening at the mere mention of her name. “i can’t... i can’t betray her like that.”

jake let out a slow breath, his expression softening. “son, it’s been two years. i know you miss her. i know this isn’t what you wanted. none of us wanted this. but you can’t hold onto the past forever. we all left people behind. but maybe it’s time to start thinking about—”

“i am not holding onto the past,” neteyam said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “i am holding onto her. she is not the past. she...” he trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain the depth of what he felt. “i promised her,” he said finally. “and she promised me. i am not going to break that. she is waiting for me.”

“and what if she’s not?” jake asked quietly. the words hung in the air like a heavy weight, pressing down on neteyam’s chest.

he hadn’t let himself think about that. he couldn’t. if he let himself believe, even for a moment, that she had moved on, that she had found someone else, it would destroy him.

“she is,” neteyam said, his voice firm, though his heart trembled with uncertainty. “i know she is.”

jake didn’t say anything for a long moment. finally, he placed a hand on neteyam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “i just don’t want you to spend your life waiting for something that might not happen.”

neteyam swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding stiffly. his father meant well, but he didn’t understand. how could he? he didn’t know what it was like to love someone so deeply that their absence felt like a physical wound, to miss someone so much that every day without them was like another weight added to his chest.

jake didn’t push the issue any further. he placed a hand on neteyam’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning and walking back toward the village, leaving neteyam alone with his thoughts once again.

he closed his eyes, letting the sound of the waves wash over him. he could almost hear her voice, soft and sweet, carried on the breeze. he could almost feel her hand in his, the warmth of her skin against his. he could almost see her smile, the one that always made his heart race.

but when he opened his eyes, she was gone. just like she had been.

sobbing. should i do a part two?

[nattikay]

Neteyam and Kiri all cozy in their little baby basket, lined with soft yerik hide and mama's blanket

[oakbuggy]

a little p2 to this post !

full thing on ao3 as always hehe

[zethsmo]

fairy kiri for a collab im doing w my friend :33 also letting yall know im lowkey gonna turn this into a multi account 🙏🙏

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Do you write Jake and human!reader? SO SORRY, I have the nastiest, sluttiest size kink I’m-

YES I DOOOO. I have a few drafts I just haven't uploaded 🤭🤭

Here's a small sneak peek tho:

“Shh, easy, easy,” Jake coos, caressing your thighs as he drips lube on his cock, ensuring he's slick so it won't hurt you.

You're in headquarters, in your bedroom, and well, what's wrong with taking advantage of the fact that it's just the two of you in here?

Except, of course, for the fact that Jake's cock is huge, and you're not sure it'll even fit.

You take a deep, shaky breath and nod as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me, 'kay?” he says to you.

“Yes,” you reply, taking a deep breath as Jake slides in. The stretch he offers is painful, a sharp sting that shoots through you until the thick head of his cock makes it inside of you, and you sigh softly as the pain decreases.

“You okay?” Jake asks, your tiny body caged under his massive one.

You nod. “'m fine,” you reply, hips starting to grind against him in a silent plead for more.

Jake grunts. “Slow, baby, take it slow.”

You whimper. “Need y'so bad,” you mewl, relishing in the sensation of his enormous hands on your hips. “Want y'to fuck me already.”

Jake chuckles lowly as he sinks deeper inside you, your tiny pussy so tight around him that he can barely keep himself together. “So fuckin' small,” he groans. “You tiny little thing, 'm gonna fuckin' ruin you one 'f these days.”

“Yes,” you whine. “Please, fuck, I need it so bad.”

Jake shakes his head. “Not until you get used to my cock, baby. I'll hurt you,” he tells you, pushing his cock as deep as it'll go, until the thick head touches your cervix. But you're barely taking half of him. Jake chuckles quietly. “Someday, kid, I'll have my entire cock in you. When you finally learn to take all of it.”

You mewl, mind, body and soul lost to the pleasure. You swear you can feel him in your lungs from how deep he is, swear he's too deep in you for you to ever recover.

Jake glances between your bodies and is pleasantly surprised to find that his cock is bulging through your stomach, and as he starts thrusting, he can't take his eyes off how deep inside you he is.

You're a blubbering, mewling mess, your body writhing under Jake as your little hands rise to his large arms, and you hold on for dear life. Your nails dig into the hard muscles there, feeling them flex with every move he makes.

“Goddamn,” Jake hisses as you clench tighter; so tight, he can barely move inside of your cunt. “Relax a little f'r me, hm?”

You nod weakly, doing your best to do as asked, and then Jake's pounding you, his cock bruising your cervix, his girth almost tearing you in half. He presses against your g-spot, making you moan and gasp.

Tears of pleasure brim over your eyes, spilling as your eyes flutter shut and you cry out, “Fuck, Daddy! More, please!”

Jake loves it when you call him that, so, obviously, he obliges, using one of his huge hands to find your clit, his long, rough finger tracing over the excited, needy nub.

The feel of Jake's hugeness compared to you drives you crazy. The way his finger covers your entire clit, the way his cock is too long to fit in you, the way you feel like a measly little doll under him...fuck, it does things to you.

And then Jake's kissing you, his teeth dragging over your lips, his tongue tracing your jaw, his rough voice saying, “Come for me, girl. Come on daddy's cock, hm?"

You whimper, body shaking, legs trembling. The pain Jake's cock gave you is long gone, confused with the pleasure until all you feel is unmanageable ecstasy.

Your orgasm crawls up your body, blossoming deep in your core and reaching your chest, your limbs, making your thoughts hazy. The pleasure is coiling within you, ready to snap, and you gasp, “Daddy! Daddy, please!”

And Jake knows that tone. He knows exactly what it means, so he keeps his pace steady and fucks you until you're hurdling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you and making you sob, delighted, at the relief his cock has offered.

The way you tighten around Jake while you come pushes him to his own orgasm, his load spilling inside of you, too much for your poor, stuffed pussy to bear, and it drips out of you even as he keeps filling you with his seed.

You mewl lowly when he pulls out of you, leaning back to see the fuckton of his cum that drips from your puffy cunt. With one long, thick finger, Jake pushes his cum back inside you, and you shudder.

“Keep daddy's cum there for me, yeah?” he says. “I like knowing it'll be dripping out of you all day.”

-----

Blog masterlist

[bugmort]

残念だ、君がいなくなると寂しくなるのは分かっている

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𖦹   𓏵 ﹒ ｡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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[sportsthoughts]

Day 155 of offseason gifs - In The Room S07E06

[sailorjisunq]

i love it when you wear your hair down over your shoulder

[l3viat8an]

Satan: Shakespeare wasn't lying when he said that tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day.

MC: Neither was Smashmouth when he said that the years start coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming-

Satan: Why are you like this?

MC:*shrugs*

[dahypoems]

꒰͡⠀ ː ⠀𓇼 𓈒 ⠀᪤ ｡ ﾟ ⊹ ❲ 𓆉 𓂂 ❳ ◯

꒰͡⠀ ː ⠀𓇼 𓈒 ⠀᪤ ｡ ﾟ ⊹ ❲ 𓆉 𓂂 ❳ ◯

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[d0llcuries]

LUVVSICK

pairing(s): neteyam x fem na'vi! reader

summary: hcs (sorta) of neteyam having a crush on you and him lolly-gagging around until finally pulling it together to court you officially!

before neteyam even realizes he has a crush on you, there are signs—tiny, almost insignificant to him at first, but glaringly obvious in retrospect. it’s the way his eyes naturally gravitate toward you in any group, how he always positions himself somewhere in your line of sight. his heart does this strange, uneven lurch when he catches glimpses of you, a sensation so new and unfamiliar that it leaves him feeling slightly off-kilter. he notices the way you tuck a stray braid behind your ear when you're deep in thought or how your lips press together in concentration when you're sorting herbs. there's a quickening in his pulse when you do this—an ache that flutters low in his stomach. he tells himself it’s just because you’re part of the clan, a valuable gatherer, someone he should keep an eye on for the sake of the tribe. but deep down, he knows better, and the way his breath hitches slightly when you pass by is a telltale sign.

it starts with small things—nothing too obvious, nothing that could raise suspicion in his own mind. like the way he volunteers to help when you're assigned to tasks near the outskirts of the village, far from the busy commotion. his heart races when you smile gratefully, the sensation spreading warmth through his chest. it’s subtle, like when he offers to carry the heavier baskets of fruit back from your morning gatherings, even though you can handle it on your own. there’s a quiet thrill in being close to you, in the way your fingers occasionally brush against his when you hand him something, sending sparks up his arm. and when you laugh, that soft, melodic sound, it sinks into him, echoes in his bones, making him feel weightless. at first, he brushes it off as nothing. surely, he’s just being polite, right? he’s neteyam, after all, the eldest son, the responsible one. but still, there’s a tiny flicker of something more that he can’t quite shake, an intoxicating pull toward you that he’s never felt with anyone else.

he finds excuses to be around you, little reasons to linger longer than he should. there’s an undeniable spark that makes his heart stutter in his chest when you catch him staring too long, when his gaze locks with yours, and he feels the air grow thicker between you. maybe it’s how he’ll sit nearby while you weave new nets or repair tools, his fingers occasionally fidgeting with a stray blade of grass as he talks about his duties or his family. or how he always seems to know when you’re about to head out to gather, offering to accompany you under the guise of wanting to “patrol the area.” yet, even on those patrols, he’s quieter than usual, stealing glances your way when he thinks you aren’t looking. the sound of your voice, the way it lingers in the air like music, sends shivers down his spine.

and then there’s the way he starts to notice the smallest details about you. how you braid your hair differently when it's hot outside, the delicate patterns of your jewelry that change with the seasons. his heart skips when he realizes he's memorized these things, like each detail about you has etched itself into his mind without him even realizing it. he memorizes the colors of the beads you wear, the ones you crafted yourself, how each one seems to hold a story that he’s quietly fascinated by. it gets to the point where he can recognize your scent—something earthy and sweet, like freshly picked fruit and wildflowers. every time he catches it, his senses buzz, his pulse quickening, and his mind racing with thoughts he’s never allowed himself to entertain. he’d never say it out loud, but when he’s close enough to catch it, it fills him with a mix of comfort and excitement so overwhelming it leaves him dizzy. still, he doesn’t quite understand it. not yet. he's obsessed!!

he doesn’t get away with it, of course. lo’ak, always quick to catch on, teases him relentlessly, making exaggerated sighs and dreamy faces every time you’re mentioned. “bro, just got talk to her! you look like a stalker, it's sad.” lo’ak teases, who only glares in return. kiri joins in also, even tuk, who’s usually innocent in these matters, giggles and teases him when she catches him staring a little too long at you during meals or ceremonies. he tries to shrug it off, act unaffected, but his ears burn, and his heart races every time his siblings bring it up. his mother, though, is the worst—every time she catches that soft, faraway look in his eyes, she gets teary, wiping the corner of her eye as she watches him. “my little neteyam, in love,” she murmurs with a smile, and though it makes him want to disappear into the ground, there’s a quiet part of him that doesn’t mind so much, because it’s you they’re all talking about.

when he starts courting you, though, it's not an immediate shift. it's slow, almost too subtle for him to even realize what he’s doing. his heart races more frequently now, especially when he catches himself staring at your hands, imagining them weaving beads or sorting herbs. it begins with the way he pays just a little more attention when you're speaking, hanging onto your words like they're the most important thing he’s heard all day. your voice—how soft and kind it is—reverberates in his chest, making his pulse quicken. he listens, truly listens, and stores away bits of your conversations like they're sacred. when you mention something in passing—a plant you’ve been meaning to find, a bead color you’ve run out of—he’ll make a mental note. days later, he’ll show up with that exact plant, that exact bead, offering it casually like it was no big deal. but inside, there’s a nervous flutter, a hope that you notice the effort, his heart pounding as he waits for your reaction, unsure why he cares so much.

he becomes protective in ways that aren’t immediately obvious. his heart clenches when he thinks of anything happening to you, a strange, tight sensation that makes him restless. it’s not that he hovers or tries to shield you—he respects your independence far too much for that. instead, it’s in the way he quietly makes sure you're always safe, checking the areas around your usual gathering spots before you arrive, ensuring no dangerous creatures are nearby. or how he watches from a distance when you’re working, just in case. the idea of something or someone hurting you makes his skin crawl, an overwhelming urge to keep you safe bubbling up in his chest, even if he doesn’t fully understand it. his worry is silent, never voiced, but you can feel it in the way his eyes soften when you catch him staring too long, how he’ll offer his hand to help you down from a high ledge or through a tricky patch of forest terrain.

and then there are the gifts. in na’vi culture, gifts are important, a sign of affection and care, and neteyam starts leaving small things for you—a particularly vibrant flower, a perfectly shaped stone, an intricately carved piece of wood. each time, his pulse quickens, heart hammering in his chest as he places the items somewhere he knows you'll find them. nothing grand or overt, just little tokens that show he’s been thinking about you. and oh, he’s so awkward about it, too. his heart races when he drops them off without a word, sometimes not even looking you in the eye when he does. if you ask about it, he’ll brush it off, mumbling something about how he just thought you might like it, his ears twitching slightly with embarrassment, his palms suddenly clammy. but his pulse doesn’t settle for hours afterward.

the teasing starts soon after. he pokes fun at you in the softest, most endearing ways, never cruel, always playful. his heart flutters when you banter back, your laughter filling the space between you like sunlight. he’ll make comments about how you get lost in your work, or how you always seem to have a smudge of dirt on your face after a long day of gathering. but beneath the teasing, there’s a tenderness. a desire to see you smile, to make you laugh, because there's something about the way your eyes light up when you laugh that makes his heart stumble in his chest. it’s exhilarating, making him feel lighter, freer. sometimes, when you’re not looking, he lets his gaze linger on your smile, wondering how he could ever get used to something so... captivating. the way your laughter softens and your gaze meets his sends his heart into overdrive, every time.

his jealousy is quiet, subtle, the kind he’d never admit to. but when he sees other guys laughing with you, spending time with you, his heart clenches, his stomach twisting in a way that makes his breath catch. he can’t help the small tightening in his chest, a gnawing feeling that tugs at him in ways he doesn’t quite understand. he won’t say anything, won’t act on it, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, the slightest tension in his shoulders. maybe he’ll stand a little closer to you afterward, a silent claim, even if he doesn’t fully understand it himself.

from that moment on, his efforts become more deliberate, but still, in that neteyam way—quiet, respectful, never overbearing. he’ll start lingering a little longer when you’re alone together, letting the silences stretch out, hoping you’ll fill them with your thoughts, your voice. he wants to know everything about you—what you think about when you’re alone, what dreams you have, what fears. he starts touching you more, little, fleeting gestures—a hand on your arm, a brush of his fingers against yours when he hands you something. each time, it sends a thrill down his spine, a reminder of just how much he wants to be close to you.

with his word, neteyam is quiet, yes, but when he speaks to you now, it’s softer, more personal. he’ll compliment you, not just on your appearance but on your skills, your intelligence, your kindness. he’ll talk about your future, in vague terms at first, testing the waters, but slowly, his words become more pointed. he starts imagining a life with you, and he’s not subtle about it. he’ll mention how you’d make a great mother one day, or how your skills as a gatherer would be invaluable to the family he hopes to build.

he starts inviting you on more personal adventures—flights with his ikran, exploring hidden parts of the forest, places only he knows. these aren’t just casual trips. they’re moments meant to show you that you’re special to him, that he wants to share his world with you, the parts of himself he doesn’t show to just anyone.and when he finally tells you how he feels, it’s not some grand confession. it’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s still not entirely sure you’ll feel the same. but his eyes, his touch—they say everything he doesn’t. they tell you that you’ve been on his mind for longer than he realized, that he’s been falling for you in ways he never expected.

and when you finally say something in return, his whole world tilts on its axis, and he can’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen it sooner.

word count: 1,776

if u have an criticism (constructive or not) feel free to voice it ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

[nattikay]

[oakbuggy]

Liar, Liar chapter 1

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 1 (NSFW) ~5.2k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala grimaced every time a bullet was fired, noisily ripping through the greenery no matter where it was aimed.

She stayed huddled in a thicket, eyes darting through the leaves and flowers and rain.

Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. They were supposed to be the scouting party, that’s it, it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. But the tawtute sterile and foul scents proved otherwise.

The sudden downpour helped to mask all individual Navi scents, but it also made it harder to know where anyone was. Seeing a cluster of roots with just enough space for her smaller body to fit, Tala slid into the safety of the crevice, disturbing only blades of grass.

At least, that’s what she hoped.

And she was glad her years of alchemy training didn’t fail her because through the blood, ash, and mist, she smelled a much less offensive sterile scent. The rain was dampening it, but the odor of tawtute fabric stuck to their skin. Just her luck to have a dream walker hovering so close to her, but better her than another. She was technically a warrior, as all alchemists of the Tawkami went through the same rites of passage, but she honestly barely qualified as a fighter. Tala would’ve wildly preferred being someone’s pretty mate and just experiment all day for new recipes and poultices.

Tala stayed absolutely still, her green eyes glued to the entrance of the roots. She looked down at her hands, her entire body folded into the smallest ball she could be, frowning a bit at the scars and scuffles. She could imagine her friend scolding her for paying attention to such things when she was being actively pursued-

A gun’s barrel burst through the entrance of the roots and shot through her hair.

Tala screamed and thrashed, kicking the gun out of the way she forced her body outside of the root’s crevice. She reached into her satchel on her hip and flung coarse powder into the assailant’s face. The rain solidified on the soldier’s face and she scrambled away through the jungle.

The RDA soldier coughed and hissed behind her, empty-handed save for one of the pink flowers that were decorated throughout Tala’s hair. He crushed it and gave chase, abandoning the gun. He didn’t need it.

Tala jumped through all manner of branches and foliage. If she had time to think, Tala would be praying to Eywa now to save her, air burning her lungs.

The dream walker was insufferably graceful, talented at keeping his eyes on her. Tala dared a look back and gasped. She didn’t realize until too late that her foot stepped on only air beyond the edge of a steep glade.

“N-Netey-OOf!” The soldier fully pounced on Tala, which only sent them toppling. Large hands clawed into her sides as the two of them rolled down, slowly coming to a painful stop of groans and blooming bruises on their heads and limbs. Immediately the soldier got to his feet while his target was violently backing away, clawing through the grass. It couldn’t be him, he’s been dead for years now. It was a trick of the light, the rain entered her eye, she was being delusional, desperate.

As if a cruel trick of Eywa’s, Tala found herself back in the start, she had burrowed into a large and hollow tree trunk and was again trapped inside it. From the darkness outside, a hand burst through the entrance and clawed at her hair, impartial as to whether it wanted to pull her out or claw its way inside.

She was slapping, thrashing, the soldier’s large gloved hands were searching for her neck through her thick, loose curls. Her nails caught on the soldier’s green military headband, ripping it off to reveal a large, star-shaped scar on the left side of his forehead. He snarled but now so close, Tala froze.

Sunlillies and tree bark. A nostalgic smell.

She stopped, letting the soldier squeeze her neck, as her wide green eyes blinked upwards, staring at his face.

“Neteyam? Is it really…?” Tala started to whisper, she felt around at his hands. Four fingers, not a dream walker. She kept trembling eyes on his face, it looked so much like him. Even the way his forehead wrinkled when his brow raised in perplexity, now a large scar resting right above it. Yellow eyes met green and all the terror-induced adrenaline Tala had pumping through her was now going straight to her heart.

The soldier had also long stopped, stunned. Stunned by her scent, of spiced honey and rose, scents that he attributed to the environment than to her. The hammering pain he felt in his skull, from his scar, had dissipated drastically. He realized who he was holding.

“Tala.” His voice was low, uncharacteristically unsure.

She wanted to open her mouth and ask all the right questions, the smartest ones, but her mouth stayed silent. The soldier slowly loosened his grip. She looked at the name tag on his uniform. ’T. Sully’.

He allowed some minute bit of space between them, their breaths warming each other up from the cold of the constant rainfall. Tala eyed his scar, blackened and old.

“You’ve been poisoned.” Her throat was dry and her heart was pounding. As if simply saying something was enough, the RDA soldier lunged back into her, his face in her hair and arms encompassing her. She made a strangled, distressed noise.

“N-Neteyam! What are you-“

“Shut up.” It felt like a shadow covered her body, snuffing Eywa’s light on her. The voice, low, husked into the shell of her ears. Cold. It was very cold. The usual comfort she’d feel hearing his voice was missing.

When Tala tried to pull back, Neteyam’s hands tightened painfully around her body, squeezing her impossibly closer. His head hasn’t felt this at peace since he ‘awoke’. The headache was mercifully lessened each time he breathed in the Tawkami girl’s scent. Months felt like decades of torture, something for him to shoulder with each waking moment. Everything hurt his head, it was constant and numbing but somehow, with her…

A whine cried out of her throat, her breath felt constricted. Tala tried to scramble her fingers around the sleeves of his black shirt, clawing at the fabric and trying to push him away but to no avail. His tactical harnesses, both on his chest and around his legs, dug into her skin painfully.

“Let go of me.” Tala weakly hissed into his hair even though her arms, though tense, felt so weak. Brittle.

Neteyam hissed.

“Just stay still. Don’t you understand how easy it is for me to kill you?” 

Tala stilled, confused. She was used to being admonished, by many people, yet she’s never known the Omaticayan to waste time for a kill. She noticed though the shallow pressure of his broad chest against hers, the lowest and quietest inhale. 

He was smelling her.

This na’vi may no longer be Neteyam, a shadow that shared his name, but still, something stirred in Tala when she realized this. Stupid feelings she thought were buried and dead.

“Killing me by smelling me then, are you?” She mumbled, taking the gamble. No matter how overpoweringly soothing her scent was, Neteyam felt irritation rise at her words. That’s right, she’s always been sort of a pain to talk to… They’ve met twice before and both times left him feeling embarrassment and indignation. For what exactly, he couldn’t recall.

Still, his tail swished irritably now. He sat up to see her face to catch a glimpse of those green eyes that constantly taunted whoever had their attention.

Great mother, he wished he didn’t remember her so the thought that she’d only gotten prettier wouldn’t enter his head.

“Don’t push me, Tawkami. How haven’t you changed at all?” He snarled, venom dripping from his maw. Tala frowned and sunk her claws into his uncovered bicep, earning a small hiss. His hands curled again around the column of her neck, lightly squeezing.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she started seeing spots in her vision. Somehow, the universe both gave her a gift and a curse. Eywa returned his body to her, but not his mind. No more gentle hands, no kind eyes, no bashful expressions, or the comfort of his silhouette. She felt so entirely bitter to have hoped at all.

“Maybe I’ve not changed at all…” Tala felt like the headband in her hand was suddenly too heavy, she didn’t want it.

“But you’ve changed too much.” She finished, her stare was acidic.

“I died. And now I’m back and I’m forced to bear the consequences of it.” His voice was stern but quiet. Tala’s brows furrowed. Then her eyes went back to his large scar. From her studies, it truly looked poisoned, festering, and painful but the skin on top was healed. She was confused, na’vi were not the type to hide scars.

Tala reached around and placed his headband slowly back around his forehead. Delicate fingertips felt like burns along his skin and Neteyam was ready to crack her neck at any sign of force.

“The poison?”

No response. She scowled.

“Poison’s made you a bore too?” Tala let out a loud gag when his large thumbs momentarily dug into her throat.

“Still so foolish and mouthy.” The soldier growled. ‘Poisoned’ was a strange way to call his ever-present migraine, but seemed close enough. Unfortunately, the cure to that headache was another one in the form of an incredibly annoying woman. His patience was thinning.

“But you still find me so pretty, don’t you? Otherwise, what’s taking so long, hmm?” Her tone and smile were sickly sweet, just the way he always hated it.

The consequences were immediate, Neteyam nearly buried Tala into the ground, knocking whatever little breath she had left. He forced her legs around him in the struggle and went for her neck to suck and bite. She yelped when rough fingers clenched at her hair and pulled her closer to him.

Her words incensed him and now he knew that Eywa cursed him, why did this loathsome woman have to smell so good, and have to smile so lovely and be so soft?

“You’ve always been so fucking-“

She could feel Neteyam’s tongue and fangs scrape over her neck. Her strangled yelps stopped when Neteyam roughly pushed the stiff tent of his pants against her thigh.

“Annoying, so fucking full of yourself-“

She saw only a flash of golden eyes glaring at her before she felt lips crash onto hers. Fangs clashed against each other and Neteyam stuck his tongue into her mouth. Tala was mortified when she could immediately feel a heat pool in her belly. The musk of his arousal was so dizzying even through the thick camo fabric.

She wanted to say she struggled heroically but in shame, Tala’s will crumbled quickly. The kiss was just so bruising, so angry, she stopped struggling to focus on twisting his tongue and stealing his air.

Neteyam didn’t break the kiss as he ripped the gloves off his calloused hands, now feeling desperate to lose himself in her smell and her softness. He groped at her waist and squeezed the roundness of her hips, now her smell was intoxicating, tinged with her desire. He moaned at the contact, practically rutting his clothed cock against her. Tala could feel slick gather underneath her tewng, she knew for sure a wet spot was already leaking through it.

His hand stilled and Tala could finally look at him, tense. Neteyam seemed only to revel in it, his pupils enlarging further, brows furrowed, he looked near enraged. With him or with her, Tala figured it was probably both. 

“What are you doing, Neteyam?” She rasped, conflicted and now hot and bothered. Her only answer was him sucking her clavicle hard, hands now groping at her tits wantonly.

Sense returned to Tala’s head and she started kicking at him, kicking around his much larger, muscular waist.

“Get away-oh!” She screeched when suddenly he was picking her up, making her back bend uncomfortably around the roof of the hollow tree, she was practically sitting on his shoulders now. His head was between her thighs and the wet muscle of his tongue was digging through her tewng, getting her wetter and wetter. She smelled divine here and he licked a long strip over the thin cloth, he could feel her heat on his tongue.

Unable to keep her balance she gripped the back of his head, his neck, the slope of his back, just anything so she wouldn’t topple over. Squeezing her thighs around his face only seemed to goad him on further.

“Neteyam!” Tala said, choking on her drool as the heat of her core rose exponentially with Neteyam’s sudden worshipping.

“I’m going to taste you. Don’t stop me.” 

The announcement makes her cunt clench around nothing and she stills. Her face is on fire, she is so conflicted by the way he was squeezing her ass and how completely and uncomfortably drenched her cunt was- Neteyam pushed the tight fabric of her tewng to the side and started lapping at her pussy lips.

“Ooohh, oh, fuck!” She moaned, feeling just so filthy. His rough and wet tongue pressed against her hole, licked long strips against it and he dug for deeper, more of her juices. The more those juices dripped down his face, the more he lapped it up hungrily. He was just fucking gone, nothing hurt anymore and only extreme pleasure was left in his wake. His ego preened as he listened to her muffled whimpers like a favored song, she was not so annoying when his tongue was deep in her cunt like this. He thinks he prefers her like this, hanging onto him desperately, legs wide for him.

Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone. 

“Net-Nete…” She whispered his name harshly but could barely form it. The coil of heat in her belly was tightening oh so much, and when Neteyam’s nose burrowed further onto her clit, her eyes glazed over in pure ecstasy.

He sucked at her clit and groaned at the sweetness that exploded on his tongue. In his mind, it was his private feast and the satisfaction he got from making this irritable woman melt in his hands was simply an appetizer.

Her eyes rolled back, the spring snapped and she closed her legs impossibly tight around his face as she came so hard she saw white. Her body stiffened, even her tail squeezed tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, and after agonizingly long seconds, her body went limp.

To her vague surprise, he was still completely supporting her despite her relaxing her whole weight over him.

To the extreme surprise of her nerves, he was still swallowing all her excess liquids, now sucking over her reddened and puffy cunt for just a bit more savory sweetness.

“N-nete- I-came…” She said in broken mewls and weakly pawed at his back, eyes starting to water from the overstimulation. He, of course, didn’t stop, he didn’t even hear her. “It’s too much, stop…” She said a bit louder and dug her nails deeper into his back, but still Neteyam didn’t budge.

He basked in massaging her twitching, sticky cunt, the way it pulsated around his tongue, and flinched at every light scrape of his teeth. He only wished he had enough space to soak his fingers in her until she was hiccuping and the pads of his fingers were pruney.

Tala felt another orgasm crash through her and this time she wailed, body staying limp, hair cascading over her and over Neteyam’s back. Her cunt was now hurting and she was struggling to keep conscious.

She blinked at the distance, seeing the flash of yellow plastic. The Compass. She had pressed random buttons in the struggle, trying to get the dog tags or his uniform name as she knew the device could record nature, likenesses. Tala continued trying to blink away tears but before she knew it, her eyes clamped shut and everything went dark to the constantly stinging and tingling texture of Neteyam’s tongue.

It was maybe 20 minutes before the RDA na’vi noticed her noises were considerably muted and her body felt boneless. He swallowed the rest of his fill, he had practically licked her clean before he let her body completely relax on the jungle floor.

He stared down at her figure and took another deep breath, his migraines truly were gone.

She had said that he was poisoned. Neteyam clicked his tongue as he readjusted her coverings and hoisted her over his shoulder.

To the detriment of both of them, she seemed to be the only cure he had for now.

–

When Tala came to, it was as violent as she had never hoped it to be.

She screamed, static coursing through her entire body and when an RDA soldier shut it off, her whole body felt numb. She could barely see the bright white linoleum floor as two combat boots came into view.

A large hand forcefully tilted her head up and she grimaced.

“Well, outta all the biters you could’ve brought back, you chose a pretty one.” The dream walker said, his face was aged and his hair was cut extremely short. He had a square jaw and aged features, along with thick eyebrows. He let Tala’s face fall carelessly as he stood back up straight.

“That better not be the only reason you chose her, Corporal Tom.” His voice was hard. Tala was vaguely aware of her body being strapped vertically onto a table and only able to move around her neck, though she barely had the energy to lift it anyway.

“No, sir, Colonel Quaritch, sir.” It was Neteyam. Voice cold and unfeeling, just like how he had first talked to her. No sunlight, no warmth. “She is of the Tawkami clan and has knowledge of all of Pandora’s natural resources as an alchemist and healer. She will be of use in identifying plants still undiscovered.”

Quaritch simply stared hard at Neteyam, or, Corporal Tom, and grumbled quietly. The Phoenix II reconditioning program had worked almost miraculously well, but the older soldier still had his suspicions. He was somewhat aware of the change he himself was facing since the Skirmish at the Three Brothers years ago, so he had to keep a close eye on the former Sully boy.

It’s been a fast year since his reawakening, and to Quaritch’s knowledge, he was pretty sure the kid spent his ruts alone and barely interacted with those outside of the Recombinant Squad if even them. The… experience left him angry, which was great on the battlefield. Not for making sure his head was all there even in downtime though.

The colonel kneeled low to look at Tala’s face clearly, her head still hanging. Easy on the eyes at least, would it be so bad for him to have his own little fucktoy? It wasn’t regulated, but some prisoners became favored partners of the Recoms or other reawakened Na’vi, if at least to help with their monthly biological needs.

“I know you can understand me doll face, most of the Tawkami does by now.” He started with a cold hostility in his tone. Tala kept silent, trying to steel herself. She didn’t want to die, but she’d welcome any return to Eywa with open arms before helping these demons.

“To make everything crystal clear, I’m going to say this once. You make a peep of trouble, we shoot you. You fuck up, we shoot you. We’re not animals mind you, you play by our rules and you can live a reasonable life of use to us. Just don’t give us a reason to kill, and we won’t, sweetheart.” His seethe ended in a cruelly humored smile and Tala was feeling her blood run cold looking at him.

Quaritch rolled his eyes emphatically when she stayed silent.

“Gonna need to hear that you understand, doll face.” He rumbled and she pursed her lips. She nodded.

“…yes. I do.” Tala said, English heavily accented but understandable all the same. Quaritch stood to his full height, carelessly letting go of her face.

He turned to Neteyam with a scowl.

“Well, you got your fucktoy, Corporal Tom. Enjoy it.” He meanly snarled, getting close to Neteyam. The younger didn’t flinch, both of them staring intensely into the other’s glowing eyes. Maintaining eye contact, Quaritch waved his hand and another blast of shock scorched Tala’s body, making her scream in pain. Tala balled her hands and felt tears burn down her face as pain shocked through every bone in her spine.

Quaritch searched Neteyam’s face for any ounce of care, even the faintest inclination to help her. The colonel didn’t want any emotional bullshit conflict, he had his own to deal with.

Not even a flicker towards her figure, despite her screams getting shriller. Quaritch sent the operator a glance and finally, Tala was given a break from the torture. Her whole body sunk, the restraints digging into her skin, though she couldn’t feel it. Tala breathed hard, her body still twitching from the pain. It felt like her eyes and ears were bleeding, she wanted to vomit.

The older soldier smiled lightheartedly.

“Just a little welcome present,” Quaritch said, then passed by the younger and clapped his shoulder. “Look alive, soldier. Get her ready and cuffed. I’ll ask the eggheads which lab needs a hand. Don’t take too long.

When he left the room, Neteyam nodded his head at the operator to also make his exit.

Now they were alone. His footsteps towards her were silent, she only knew he was so close because his shoes came into view.

Tala twisted her head to at least be able to peer up at his face. She was aching thoroughly, but the soreness of her crotch especially made her sport quite a mirthful smile.

“Did you like the taste enough to keep me?”

Neteyam scowled then smirked.

“Almost as much as you liked creaming on my tongue.” He taunted back and his smirk grew as he saw Tala’s pretty smile get wiped off her face instantly.

A surprisingly soft grip supported her chin, and she raised her head to meet his eyes. While he still wore the harness and cargo pants, he was no longer wearing his tactical vest. She could clearly see the broadness of his shoulders, how sculpted and wide his chest was under the tight black shirt. Eywa really picked favorites.

Neteyam’s nose twitched, as it usually did with irritation.

“Be thankful I didn’t kill you. At least now you can be of use.” His voice had a sharper edge that made Tala glare at him. The stale light of fluorescent bulbs didn’t seem to suit either of them.

“Of use? Like you are to the vrrteps(demons), kavukte(traitor)?” Tala hissed, green eyes flashing with indignation. She wanted to bite his fingers off. Neteyam’s jaw tensed.

“What are you planning, Neteyam? What do you want?” She pushed, her voice much more hoarse than she thought it would be.

“I’m saving this planet by ending the Na’vi people’s resistance, Tawkami. They are being manipulated by Eywa, it’s not their fault, but they refuse to listen. Eywa keeps the People from growing, and she is the reason they suffer now. The humans will save us.” Neteyam said with such finality and clarity that it unsettled her, like lines practiced over and over again.

“Eywa keeps the balance, Neteyam, the vrrteps are selfish, they take and take. You know this, I know you do.” Her voice was pleading now, nerves heightened. She wanted desperately for him to listen to her and see reason.

“Then even this is part of Eywa’s plan, no? To let the sky people take and take. It was the sky people that saved me, not Her.” He said with a growl.

Tala couldn’t bear to listen anymore and ripped her face away from his grip, squeezing her eyes shut.

Wretched words, cruel thoughts that didn’t sound truly like his.

“The vrrteps did not save you, Neteyam. They were the ones that killed you! Lo’ak-.” Four fingers clamped her mouth shut and the amber pool of his eyes seared into hers.

“I remember everything. And my life was over far before Lo’ak’s stupidity got me shot.” He seethed, pupils in threatening and aggressive slits. Tala scowled, ears pinned to the side of her head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jake. He ended my life long before that battle. Then replaced me before my body even turned cold, and now I live every single day in torture!” His words suddenly erupted in anger, violently surfacing above. Resentment emanated from every word and his hurt was suffocating. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get through to him, she was not the person he needed now. He needed Kiri or Tuk, he needed his family.

Tala was suddenly reminded of how small a part of his life she really embodied. At most a week’s worth of memories, years stretched in between. Barely any history. 

She wanted to entertain that maybe it was her good looks and charming personality that made her memorable, but Tala wasn’t completely dumb. Neteyam had always been surrounded by attractive, talented navi, better yet, members of his own clan he could court.

Those infuriatingly beautiful eyes, making her think unnecessary things right then. Because that time was over, and these feelings didn’t matter. They never have.

“So your life is over, and now you’re ‘Corporal Tom’. Why does the Corporal want me?” Tala wondered out loud, biding for time as she scanned the room. White, eye-achingly so, metallic, plastic, unnatural, sterile, cold.

His waw tensed as he didn’t answer.

“Honestly, it’s looking like you’re obsessed with me.” Tala said with an entirely syrupy sweet and contemptuous smile. A fire started growing in her mind.

He lived every day in pain. And the scar looked blackened; poisoned and now hidden. Navi don’t hide scars. And suddenly he’s smelling her and eating her out as if she was his ambrosia. 

Tala crinkled her eyes and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Oh, does being around me help with the hurt, poor sky demon warrior?”

When Tala saw his tail swishing in angry large strokes, she knew her answer, unable to contain how pleased she was now. It was laughable, for both of them, truly! She went through her mental alchemy compendium, considering what and how effected him. Relief through her scent, then arousal? Or minor dosage of comfort through scent then a substantial through oral consumption?

Tala sighed internally, this would have been a wonderful opportunity to experiment with the effects of this mind poison if it wasn’t for all the guns and threats and torture.

Neteyam suddenly and wordlessly stripped off her floral top.

“Neteyam!” She screeched, though his eyes just wandered along her chest, tits soft and dotted with dark pink nipples. Tala flinched violently away when large fingers pinched at her flesh, but still they continued to play and bruise the sensitive buds without care. Tala strangled a mewl in her throat, mortified. He had stayed too silent all this time, she should have known something was boiling in him.

And indeed there was, he hated her insolence and her overactive brain, how she pieced things together so damningly quickly.

“Nothing will get you to shut up, will it.” Neteyam mused out loud, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. He pinched it hard and Tala yelped.

“Remind yourself that you have no power here, Tawkami. At most, you’re a stress toy.” He said in a deceptively simplistic manner. As if to make the point stick he stuck thick gloved fingers in her mouth, pushing teeth and tongue. Neteyam stared, daring her to bite him. She didn’t.

“Smart toy, good toy.” He mumbled then, eyes narrowing in self-satisfaction. Tala’s face went hot but she kept compliant.

“Stay good, and I won’t break that thin neck.” Neteyam said, pushing his fingers in her mouth deeper. She gagged and Neteyam felt a familiar throbbing in his pants.

He stopped and then leaned over her like a predator, almost growling.

“I can smell how bad you want me. If you’re good, I’ll fuck the brat out of you until you’ve had your fill.”

Tala closed her eyes, just so completely humiliated yet so aroused, it made her fume. Neteyam smiled smugly when he saw her expression. He liked seeing her when she was too frustrated to do anything else but let her face turn red.

Tala grumbled something under her breath. His ears caught something about him being a horny psychotic asshole. So he proved her point.

“AH!” Sharp fangs sunk into the crook of her neck. He was-he was biting her, marking her! Neteyam was nearly crushing her small shoulders still as he bit down, blood beading and staining her skin.

“Great Mother, what is wrong with you?!” Tala was screaming, now jerking her body this way and that. She didn’t care that it made it more painful, she didn’t care that flecks of her blood were landing on his face and the rest of her body.

But neither did he, he let his fangs stay sunk into her skin, he seemed to be enjoying her struggling, the fucking asshole-

When Neteyam finally stood up, there were thin dribbles of saliva and blood running down his chin and he wiped it off with the heel of his glove carelessly.

Tala was breathing hard, confused and so horribly aroused, she didn’t even want to know how much of a mess she looked then. Her skin was on fire, she was barely aware of the tears running down her cheeks, tears of anger.

Her green eyes shined brighter in her shock, pink lips parted in terrible confusion. Her hair was a mess, braids no longer neat and curls in her face, sticking to her cheeks with her tears. And now the side of her neck, bitten into and punctured, like a pearl necklace of blood.

Neteyam thought it was the prettiest he’d ever seen her. And by Eywa his head felt the most relieved it’s been by far.

“A horny, psychotic asshole, right?” He said smugly, daring any more rebellion from her in his tone and she glared viciously at him. Neteyam merely kept his head raised and roughly pulled up her top.

He turned away and left once the doors slid open, whispering something to the tawtute waiting outside. He didn’t take any look back, he didn’t need to.

Tala felt hostility bubble in her gut, marking was for mates, not whatever the hell this was. Not from whatever he was!

The scientist walked in and pulled out a needle, making her ears pin to the back of her head. The injection went in so quickly, Tala could only remember those yellow eyes, searing into her.

It made her want to gag.

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