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hoffmans-hoffman · 2 years

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Master list part 2/Bits, bobs and gods

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American Gods (Tv show)

Oc: Hephaestus "Blaze Alabaster":

Oc: Eupheme "Mae Alabaster":

Oc: Philophrosyne "Prudence Alabaster":

Oc: Dionysus "Daniel Liquor":

Oc: Hermes "Hale Grapevine":

Oc: Zephyrus "Zeek Winds":

Oc: Lyssa "Lyle Spirits":

Oc: Mara Oslo:

Mad Sweeney:

Low-Key Lyesmith:

Czernobog:

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The dark picture anthology

Oc: Curator 2/Jamie Hues:

Andrew:

Daniel:

Taylor:

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Stardew valley

Oc: Jamie Birch:

Harvey:

Shane:

Gus:

Linus:

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Horror movies

Oc: Lonnie Titus:

Oc: David St James: 1, 2

Oc: Sam Williams:

Oc: Tommy Blue

Oc: Jasmine Blue:

Oc: Harvey Locke:

Oc: Cooper Campbell:

Oc: August Row:

Oc: Daniel Ronnix:

Oc: Arthur Rose:

Herbert west:

Dan cain:

Ash Williams:

Leatherface:

Tex Sawyer:

Alfredo Sawyer:

Nubbins Sawyer:

Animating The Evil Dead:

Horror house:

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Soa + Mayans

Oc: Tony "Tiny" Winston:

Oc: Alexander "AJ" Trager:

Oc: Brodie Telford:

Oc: Alec Telford:

Chibs Telford:

Tig Trager:

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Marvel: Midnight Suns

Oc: Sealgair/Hunter :

Oc: Prince Rhett Heather:

Oc: Ace Valentino:

Oc: Doctor Mathew Greene:

Oc: Layne Stark

Blade:

Doctor Strange:

Magika:

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deimosphilic · 1 year

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giggles

the way i giggled sm he’s lowk my spirit animal

#ari ᥫ᭡#lyle #lyle is my spirit animal #still scary tho #mars got mail *:･ﾟ

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animusrox · 1 year

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LETTERBOXD

1. The Batman 2. Everything Everywhere All at Once 3. Prey 4. Triangle of Sadness 5. Barbarian 6. The Northman 7. Bodies Bodies Bodies 8. The Banshees of Inisherin 9. Bones and All 10. Avatar: The Way of Water

Grade A

11. Turning Red 12. The Menu 13. Babylon 14. Hit the Road 15. Cow 16. Watcher 17. Funny Pages 18. Mad God 19. On the Count of Three 20. Armageddon Time 21. Terrifier 2 22. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23. Smile 24. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25. Holy Spider 26. Aftersun 27. The Fabelmans 28. Breaking 29. Decision to Leave 30. The Whale 31. All Quiet on the Western Front 32. Brian and Charles 33. Piggy 34. Saint Omer 35. Thirteen Lives 36. Men 37. The Fallout 38. Resurrection 39. Causeway 40. The Black Phone 41. Official Competition 42. Nope 43. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44. Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45. Till 46. TÁR 47. Happening 48. A Love Song 49. The Outfit 50. The Innocents 51. Jackass Forever 52. BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53. Montana Story 54. Three Thousand Years of Longing 55. You Won’t Be Alone 56. The Sadness 57. Halloween Ends 58. Pearl 59. X 60. Vesper

Click "Keep Reading” For My Full List

Grade B

61. This Place Rules 62. Fresh 63. Windfall 64. Kimi 65. No Exit 66. Top Gun: Maverick 67. “Sr.” 68. Farha 69. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70. Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71. Nitram 72. Speak No Evil 73. Run Sweetheart Run 74. She Said 75. White Noise 76. Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77. V/H/S/99 78. The Wonder 79. Women Talking 80. Hatching 81. Soft & Quiet 82. Scream 83. To Leslie 84. Hustle 85. Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86. Dual 87. God’s Country 88. Emancipation 89. Vengeance 90. Fire of Love 91. Bullet Train 92. Incantation 93. The Valet 94. Hellraiser 95. Christmas Bloody Christmas 96. Significant Other 97. Cha Cha Real Smooth 98. Lucy and Desi 99. Not Okay 100. A Christmas Story Christmas 101. Blonde 102. Deadstream 103. Sissy

Grade C

104. The Bad Guys 105. The Cursed 106. Empire of Light 107. A Man Called Otto 108. Broker 109. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110. The Princess 111. Beast 112. After Yang 113. RRR 114. Fall 115. Jackass 4.5 116. Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118. Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119. Lightyear 120. The Pale Blue Eye 121. The Woman King 122. Violent Night 123. God’s Creatures 124. Ambulance 125. Elvis 126. You Are Not My Mother 127. Emily the Criminal 128. Crimes of the Future 129. The Apology 130. The Lost City 131. Wendell & Wild 132. Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133. The Found Footage Phenomenon 134. See How They Run 135. Spiderhead 136. Studio 666 137. Bros 138. Spin Me Round 139. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140. Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141. Honor Society

Grade D

142. Thor: Love and Thunder 143. Summering 144. Strange World 145. Glorious 146. The Gray Man 147. Devotion 148. Clerks III 149. The Forgiven 150. Enola Holmes 2 151. Father Stu 152. Jurassic World Dominion 153. DC League of Super-Pets 154. She Will 155. The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156. Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157. Hellbender 158. Samaritan 159. Day Shift 160. Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161. Prey for the Devil 162. Troll 163. Uncharted 164. Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165. Dashcam 166. Firestarter 167. Do Revenge 168. Catwoman: Hunted 169. The Munsters 170. Amsterdam 171. Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173. The Bubble 174. Dead for a Dollar 175. Jerry & Marge Go Large 176. Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177. Infinite Storm 178. Marry Me 179. Don’t Worry Darling 180. Spirited 181. Disney's Pinocchio 182. Alice 183. Black Adam 184. Orphan: First Kill 185. The Adam Project 186. The Invitation 187. Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188. Ticket to Paradise 189. The 355 190. Umma

Bottom 10

191. Green Lantern: Beware My Power 192. Deep Water 193. Where the Crawdads Sing 194. Blacklight 195. Mack & Rita 196. Memory 197. Me Time 198. Death on the Nile 199. Morbius 200. Moonfall

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formlines · 7 months

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Spirit Salmon

Lyle Wilson

#Lyle Wilson #Haisla #Inuit Gallery of Vancouver

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neworleansvoudou · 10 months

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Who's Who in Hoodoo History: Mamma Phemie

Lyle Saxon said he’d always wanted to attend a Voudou ceremony and witness firsthand the sacred rites, but he’d never had the chance. Then, one day—under false pretenses—he got the opportunity.

Saxon had known an enslaved Congo man named Robert for years because Robert had worked for Saxon’s closest friends. In a happenchance meeting, Saxon told Robert some cockamamie story about being heartbroken because a rival stole his girlfriend. He said he wanted revenge on his enemy but was afraid to do anything himself. Of course, Robert took the bait and told Saxon he would take him to a Voudou woman to get it taken care of. So, that’s what they did. Robert took Saxon to see Mamma Phemie.

Mamma Phemie took Saxon through a variety of rituals that involved uncrossing. She had him unbuttoning, unclothing, and basically stripping down to nothing but a loose white robe wrapped around his body. She then prepared a parterre-type altar on the floor, characteristic of 19th-century hoodoo and Voudou. She recited a litany of Catholic prayers, and she experienced possession. Her style was an eclectic blend of Voudou, hoodoo, and spiritualism, along with a healthy dose of debauchery, if Saxon’s description is accurate.

To fix Saxon’s problem, Mamma Phemie said she would petition St. Maroon and Li Grand Zombi (the serpent god). To that end, she fashioned a poppet to represent Saxon’s rival out of black candle wax. After convincing him to cut himself so that she could have a blood offering to smear on the wax, she placed the effigy near the fire where the gumbo cooked in the center of the room. As the wax melted, Mamma Phemie began praying to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Then she recited the Act of Contrition. Suddenly, she stopped and yelled out: “Maroon!”

Her congregation followed suit, repeating “Maroon!” over and over again. Finally, one of her assistants brought to the parterre a statue of St. Anthony. As he set it down on the altar cloth next to Mamma Phemie, he said, “Done set de table, St. Maroon . . . now what yo’ goin’ to do?” Immediately the congregation broke out into the chant:

W’at yo’ goin’ to do? Oh, w’at yo’ goin’ to do? Oh, Maroon, oh St. Maroon, W’at yo’ goin’ to do?

According to Saxon, “there was no response from the sad-faced saint” (Saxon 1928, 317). Mamma Phemie’s attempt to summon the spirit intensified. She rose to her feet, assisted by a young girl whom Saxon dubbed “the mulatto girl,” and exclaimed: “Yo’ answer me, Maroon! What yo’ goin’ to do?”

Mamma Phemie stomped her foot and spat wine on the statue. In traditional New Orleans Voudou, this is more accurately described as spraying the image with wine to wake up the spirit. This is done by taking a sip of liquid—usually alcohol of some sort—and spraying the liquid out in a fine mist with the mouth. As Saxon didn’t know what he was looking at and wrote from an outsider’s perspective, the behavior sounds rude and vile. But it is not when explained in the appropriate cultural and religious context. This is done to bless objects, people, and spaces to prepare them for ritual activity.

Saxon observed Mamma Phemie go into a frenzy and ultimately into what he thought was an epileptic fit. Again, he was watching as an outsider who came under false pretenses with many preconceived ideas about the nature of Voudou, and he got it wrong. Of course, I was not there as a doctor who could determine whether she actually experienced an epileptic fit. I can say that if you have ever witnessed possession in the context of Voudou, it can look like an epileptic fit to the untrained, inexperienced eye. When the spirits are called down, those present at the ceremony may offer their bodies as “horses” for the spirits to “ride.” Mamma Phemie had been ridden by St. Maroon, evidenced by the exclamations of her congregants, “She done possess! She got ’er way! St. Maroon done answer ’er!” Her assistant added, “De sperrit done come strong on her!” (Saxon 1928, 318).

After Mamma Phemie came to, bowls of gumbo were passed out to congregants. Saxon was offered gumbo but didn’t want to eat it because he saw what he thought was a snake as one of the ingredients. Despite his initial revulsion, he forced himself to take a sip and immediately became sick to his stomach. He continued to watch the ceremony as more possessions began to take place. His anxiety mounted. He clearly did not understand what was going on. He described what he saw in sexual terms, noting how participants were scantily dressed, and “Mamma Phemie was shaking her breasts in rhythm to the drum” (Saxon 1928, 318).

Suddenly, she stood in the middle of the room and shouted: “Zombi!” Saxon then described men and women dropping to the floor writhing and moaning. This is an accurate description of people falling to the floor possessed by Li Grand Zombi. Li Grand Zombi is the primary serpent deity of New Orleans Voudou. The term can refer to the family of serpents in the New Orleans Voudou pantheon, as well. When folks are possessed by Zombi, they will writhe on the floor like a snake and hiss.

After a time, Saxon was given a gris gris designed to remedy his fake problem. “They handed me things that had been prepared for me,” Saxon reported. “A small bag containing ashes, hairs from a white horse’s tail, salt and pepper, and some crushed dried leaves; a box containing pecans which had been drilled with holes and in which feathers had been inserted; a bundle of feathers, wound around with dried grass” (Saxon 1928, 318).

Saxon was told to take the items he had been given and throw them one at a time in the path of his enemy. The feather bundle was to be put inside his rival’s pillow, while the pecans should be placed at his front door. When he next saw his enemy, he was told to throw some salt behind him as he left, which is believed to keep an unwanted person from returning. He was given an orange from St. Maroon’s altar to eat to provide him with strength. “It could not fail me now, for St. Maroon had blessed it. Had I not seen this miracle?” (Saxon 1928, 319).

Through this experience—one that he had the privilege of attending though doing so through deceptive means—Saxon maintained a special level of arrogance. His description of the ceremony moved from sexual to animalistic. He described attempted sexual assault, men biting women, and women being hurled halfway across the room. He said people were crashing against him in the dark, and wine was poured on him.

It wasn’t long before he ran like a little bitch out of the ceremony, sick to his stomach and scared to death. As he crawled on the floor toward the door, he reached desperately for his clothes and was spotted. Robert asked him if he was okay. All Saxon could do was a motion to let him pass.

“Out! I’m going out! Get out of the way!” he exclaimed.

One of the attendants standing guard outside took him by the arm and escorted him off the property, down an alley, and finally through a gate.

Saxon was so sick all he could do was lean against a lamppost. “Finally, the spasm of nausea passed, and I stagger along the dim streets, back toward a sane world which tells me that Voodoo no longer exists—if it ever existed!” (Saxon 1928, 322).

*Excerpted from Witch Queens, Voodoo Spirits, and Hoodoo Saints: A Guide to Magickal New Orleans

Explore the course, Who's Who in Hoodoo History to learn the stories of the OGs of Hoodoo. https://www.crossroadsuniversity.com/courses/who-s-who-in-hoodoo-history

#neworleansvoodoo #hoodoo #conjure #rootwork #mammaphemie #lylesaxon #crossroadsuniversity

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sivyera · 3 months

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avatar x oceanic na'vi fem!reader headcanons

a/n: headcanons with Tuk are ONLY PLATONIC, otherwise you and the character are dating, also every character has two headcanons in here and when i say every character i mean every but i don't like lyle so he's not there; i also don't like quaritch but MANY avatar fans like him so... that's why he's here, anyway enjoy!

༺☆༻

ronal will introduce you to her spirit sister, ro'a. her spirit sister means so much to her, just like you, so she wants both of her favourite girls to like each other.

spider wants to learn everything about everything! he only lived with the sully's (omaticaya people/forest na'vi) so that's the only na'vi he knows. you are so different and so beautiful, he can't get enough.

neteyam often catches himself staring at you from behind. he watches after you so if anything happens; he can protect you. he also admires you.

tuk sees you as her new big sister and she always wants to pet baby ilu's with you or feed the big ones with sea leaves.

quaritch will probably 'kidnap' you from your village to have you close to him, because nobody can know about your relationship, for now.

tsu'tey will often provoke you; like flick your ear or pinch your hip just to see how your ears went back and you cringe your nose, it always makes him laugh. you also hit his arm right after that.

every morning, tonowari looks at your bottom cloith and then add something to his own, to match yours. like a feather or a shell that's the same color.

trudy wants you to tattoo her, because when she saw the traditional oceanic na'vi tattoo (because metkayina is just a clan, yk) she fell in love with them!

kiri will dive with you for HOURS, while exploring the sea together. different animals and plants, rocks and crystals, all of this while spending time with you, she loves it!

tsireya loves to hold your hand and she will, all the time! it bring her comfort, she also often swings them while walking or stroke your thumb.

neytiri will make you a lot of tops, bracelets, necklaces,... but she will use gifts from the sea. she'll also make you matching ones, which is always magical.

every time you take a nap, ao'nung will become your bed, and he LOVES it. like one time he layed on a rock with you on top of him while the sea waves were still touching your legs.

grace will love to learn your ways and like 'study' you. it brings her curiosity back (because she probably knows everything about forest na'vi) which somehow makes her feel young and loved.

jake always admires how elegant are you in the water. you look so magnificent, so divine. he could watch you all day without getting tired of it.

when you said that payakan may not be a killer, lo'ak fell in love immediately. it meant a lot to him, he also trusts you with his life now.

trudy will love swimming with you. i feel like she did many sports as a child so it brings her nostalgia, she can also spends time with her love.

spider will protect you at all cost, and slowly he'll become loyal only to you, not to quaritch, not to rda, not to the sully's, not even to kiri, just to you.

ronal will often massage you. it's her way of saying 'you did really good today, i love you'.

tsu'tey can dance and he will dance with you pretty often because he loves it! he can hold you close while looking at your beautiful face, but he surprisingly also likes the dancing.

quaritch will get your name tattooed near his heart on his chest, as a sign of loyalty and love that he holds for you.

racing on skimwings is one of tonowari's favourite activity to do with you. he always laughs when you fell off or when you laugh that he fell off. your laugh warms his heart so he's falling off pretty often.

neteyam will often bring you different sea flowers or land crystals that catches his eyes while training, hunting or just walking that remains him of you.

tsireya loves when you braid her hair, you massage her scalp while kissing her forehead and you always manage to find the perfect hairstyle for her.

neytiri will try to learn how to ride an ilu because of you, but most of the time she's on her ikran right above you, protecting you from the sky. but if you try to learn how to ride an ikran, she'd be pleased!

you are basically an idol to tuk. she really admires you, she finds you funny, gorgeous and strong. it's cute, really.

ao'nung will often hunt with you because he's one of the best metkayina hunters so he can show off his skills. he wants to impress you and let you know that you are safe with him.

kiri has some spiritual connection with you, just like she has with eywa so she feels safe with you. you are her true home.

lo'ak secretly practiced diving and holding his breath every night, just so he can impress you the next day and spend more time playing and talking than learning.

jake will tease you, how he already managed to ride a skimwing in a such a short time and then race you, his mouth is wide open every time you win; which is almost every time.

grace has three photos of you she once took and she has them placed; first near her bed, second in her notebook and third in her lab, so she can always look at your face when she misses you.

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darksxder · 1 year

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the good plant pollen

pairing: fem! recom reader x na’vi miles quaritch

summary: getting hit by a sex pollen on your first mission as a recom was not exactly ideal, but thankfully your colonel helps you out

warnings: dubious consent (due to sex pollen), pwp, masturbation, sexual tension, p in v sex, public sex, voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, na’vi heat cycle/sex pollen, power dynamics for sure (you’re his subordinate)

word count: 12.5k (HELLO???) not even sorry, my hands ache tho (from typing, not anything weird)

a.n: i requested something similar from @shadowshart but realized I wanted to play with this idea myself also lmao (read their story it slaps!)

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

also thank u to my roomie for helping me with ideas, love u s.

dts: to the lovely @shadowshart herself (im ur biggest fan fr, sorry i flood your inbox) & @tarrynightss for beta reading, love you bae <3, @spiderlover03 for wanting this fic so bad and always, @belle82devart

*******

You wouldn't be in this situation if you paid attention.

You swear it.

You knew you should have been paying attention to Darcy as she pointed out things from the slideshow of venomous and otherwise deadly plants and wildlife on Pandora to avidly avoid, but you swore you knew it all already. Or at least you think you did from your other life.

You remember certain blurry flashes of colours and ramblings of a safety meeting, the dim room packed with row after row of benches full of whispers and muddled mumbles of ‘dangerous’, ‘claws’ ‘toxins’ ‘ leaching from skin’. Just a monotonous repeat of: ‘deadly’, ‘deadly’, ‘deadly.

All you could truly remember was watching Quaritch’s arms flex as he addressed you all, the way his face tensed as he spoke, just an octave under a yell, always. The strain in his neck. You were in the front row, leaning in, all for the guise of catching every word he spoke and you had at the time, but still, he was the major thing on your mind even then.

And now he was still a distraction, with his thick thigh pressed against yours, his heat leeching off of him and gripping at you, travelling up your side, up your neck, tingles spreading through your extremities. If you moved away an inch you would be on Lyle’s lap. That was not an option despite the constant light flirtatious jokes shared between you.

And no matter how sick it was, you enjoyed this stolen touch. It still felt forbidden. Probably because it still was.

He was still your colonel, you were still his subordinate.

How unlucky to be given the chance to live two separate lives where you were infatuated with him, and in both, you could not have him.

He didn't seem to mind this touch now so why would you? Honestly due to this you truly had no chance of paying attention to this safety presentation before the mission. It would have usually had your rapt attention, but something about this morning had you anxious and the touch of Quaritch had your stomach all fluttery and your mind wandering as the scientist spoke.

She was a mean woman, about your age, or at least the age you were as a human, your na’vi body was only 20. She had fierce red-brown hair that hung in long, frizzy waves. A headband pushed the bangs back from her face harshly as she rolled up her sleeves and continued talking. On her pale face, she wore teal eyeliner, and you suspected it was a strange way to place herself firmly in the recom team spirit, but what got you was her personality. She was fiery, she bit back at everyone, insults that went a toe too far, were her supposed comfort, terrorizing her fellow scientists through nitpicks and badgering in sickly sweet mocking tones in the morning and dragging them to the lab past reasonable hours.

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

Quaritch liked her. Not enough to like her as a person, but enough to appreciate the snark, the tone. Enough to ask general Admore to put her on their team for good the first week when she yelled at one of her many scientist underlings who got in Quaritch’s pathway.

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

But when you did, you got sick at the thought and quickly extinguished it.

You focus back, feel the rumbling of the bench underneath you. Lyle was laughing beside you so loud it reverberated through the metal. Your eyes snapped up to see a deep red, long-leaved plant displayed on the screen and all of the recoms laughing. Darcy looked a bit too pleased with her ability to make Lyle wheeze.

“Overall it's not exactly supplying the good type of plant pollen if you know what I mean.” A wink. You did not indeed know what she meant and you heard Quaritch huff a laugh behind you.

“ Unless you like being on a rock for hours, I guess. There is a reason the na’vi call it the tsewtx toruk ”

Mansk spoke behind you. “The fuck does that mean?”

You laughed, which made Darcy glare at you. “It means dirty dragon. Its namesake is for its potency, strength and umm… tenacity or stamina it gives the user. As well as the physical symptoms of intense fever and hot flashes. But again like everything else, it is deadly. You would fuck till you drop essentially. Stay away.” A click and she was onto something new and you tuned her out again. Willing yourself to soon be able to make it out of the room, to be without her nasally voice if even for only an hour’s reprieve.

You were still focused on other things, panic flaring as you remembered you got up late this morning. Now mentally calculating how fast you would have to be after the meeting to make it back to your bunk and clean up your station before bed check later when you got back. But you focused pivoted again.

Not very far, just to your right.

Your colonel was so very close to your side. You were trying not to stare, truly, but you knew you weren't doing a good job. Your side eyes were never particularly subtle, Mansk and Lyle told you this for years and yet you continued. You couldn't control it. And it didn't help that you were much more noticeable in your na’vi body.

******

You were used to being firmly human and tiny for your age.

You were a stealth operative under Miles Quaritch for the RDA at twenty years old nearly 14 years ago. A lifetime ago. Able to even sneak past every na’vi and even Eywa herself they swore, but you never thought that was quite true. They nicknamed you Ghost anyways.

You pretended to hate it.

But when you had snuck into their village one day when they were gone to the river for a ceremony, taking pictures of the internal structures undetected, the team had celebrated you. Seriously celebrated, and even made a makeshift cupcake to commemorate the breakthrough. But it was not something done lightly and the cupcake was neither edible nor good, but you had eaten it. Had smiled, and allowed yourself to be jostled by firm slaps and pats on the back of Wainfleet and the rest as the guilt gnawed at you slowly.

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

He found you out on the bridge that night, leaning against the rail as you gazed at the depths of emerald tones that made up the forest.

“You did well today. I know it’s difficult, soldier, but you did well.”

You looked up, startled to see him at your side. So much taller than you, even as a human. White hair cropped short and clothes pressed even at the late hour. Not a single wrinkle.

The deep scars on the side of his head caught in the blue-white light of Hell’s Gate’s fluorescents as he talked. They almost shined as if they were a platinum badge. His blue eyes lit up an icy hue. You felt your palms sweat as you readjusted your grip, feeling yourself shake just slightly. The once-chilled air of the brig was warm as you felt him step beside you.

Always on your right side, after having noticed you tense the first day, when he saddled up to your left. You had bad hearing on the left side and hated the anxiety of someone being on that side. He switched wordlessly when he saw you tense. His jaw set, eyes facing forward. He did it wordlessly and never left that right side view since then, even when agitated at you.

Especially then.

If he didn't like you, which you were sure he didn't, he at least respected you.

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

But now as you try to shove images of burning forests and screaming na’vi from your mind you could barely see him. You were so tangled, knotted and sick at the way you would be and always were in a way a part of it. All of the atrocities, the death. Once you had been passive but now you had chosen to be firmly active.

He followed your gaze to your hands, you could feel it before you matched his stare to your white knuckle grip on the metal rail. You unclenched, shaking out your burning hands. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, the sound seemingly following the curve of your spine as he leaned back. Dog tags clinked as he leaned farther forward over the rail to properly see you, to meet your eye. You indulged him only just to see his gaze be soft if only for a fleeting second as you gave in. You were always nervous about its absence, but it was always there. For you, at least.

You tried to smile, but it was barely a twitch of your lips, your knees aching as you tensed next to him. You had been standing here for hours after the so-called ‘party’ had died down.

Music booming in your ears, rattling your hunched frame in the corner as a small smile twitched at your lips to assuage that you were okay as the world fell apart around you. Breathing in the stale air of the gym in the brig, smelling dust, metal and sweat and of course the sweet vodka peach drink Zdinarsk spilled on your elbow as you moved past her. You took in everything as you sunk into the concrete behind you, revelling in the cold bite of the chilled material. Just watched as Zdog and Prager shouted lyrics to a Jay Z song, fingers pointing up to god knows what, rotating between gesturing the song out and rounding Lyle and Mank's shoulders as they laughed, half belligerent, drinks sloshing onto the concrete ground from battered red plastic cups. Since slipping out the back and avoiding the colonel's eyes hours later, you were just here.

Unmoving as the base winded down further and people prattled around its large expanse. All flitting about with briefcases and files as they rushed past you to their makeshift homes. Tired eyes focusing on the idea of their beds as the day was wasted and the next promised to start just as early. They filled the once cold lifeless gray space with life for a time until the night truly dwindled. The eclipse lit everything a bright purple. Awash in colours of magenta, and violet you just breathed, hands shaking as you inhaled. Your gaze never leaves the wonders beyond the glass surrounding you.

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

“You know why you're so good at your job, Ghost?”

A sigh slipped past your lips. Your shoulders caved in as your eyes slid shut once more at his deep raspy voice. At the use of your moniker, a remembrance of reality. He was your colonel. You were but a soldier. You were no hero, certainly not now.

No woman he had met by chance. Not a friend of his, of anyone, no longer a sister, no longer even your first name.

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

And he hated how weak your voice was as he brushed calloused fingertips against your hands. So slight you were sure it was an accident. Your gaze shot to his, heart jumping painfully, back straightening as you stiffened. His eyes kept yours as he pried your hands from the rail none so gently, turning the right palm up and sliding something small and cool into your hand before closing your fingers around it, softer than the initial yank from the rail. But only by a fraction. All he could afford you.

Shivers raced up your spine, your chest aching at the touch, lurching with it.

“Wh-”

“It’s because you care. The animals out there don't notice you because they know you care. Like they know you wouldn't hurt them, even when vulnerable and squattin’ in the mud. You just have to remember to care for your kind more, alright?”

Your lip wobbled, voice much too weak to speak as you merely nodded, gaze trailing down again. Heart racing and fear clawing at you as you just stood there, weak and mortified, scared that he knew it all. Had the power to have you called a potential traitor for your empathy.

You wondered if when he said animals he meant the na’vi or the wildlife. You swallowed hard, eyes burning, squeezing shut as if you could wring the horrible thought from your mind, keep your heart from sinking to the depths alongside your stomach. You did not want to ask, for you knew already.

Your eyes tracked your beaten-up converse on your aching feet as you shuffled from your left to right leg, ignoring the prickles that raced up your shins. Caught on the only remnant of your sister left. She died in failed cryo on the way here. The heart drawn in sharpie on your left toe from your last day together. After, you both collapsed in exhaustion from packing your small joint carry-on bag the night before shipping off. It was glaringly bright in the white-tinted light illuminating the large hall now.

Still muted, smudged, and fading, but it made you smile anyways.

They were the first thing you put on each time you got back to base. The first step after a shower.

All of this, you realized you did for her. All of those like her, those left on earth. Trapped there, on a dying planet with no solution, no real plan or power to change it.

You finally braved a look at your palm, seeing a carved metal charm sitting there amongst callouses. It was crudely carved from the material but still startlingly smooth. It was a small ghost resting in your palm. No longer than your finger pad. A small hole was punched near the head with a link there to attach to your dog tags.

You let out a laugh at the sight and Quaritch was sure he had never heard anything so sweet, so close to shattering.

Your hand, gentle but rough like his, brushed against his knuckles. But this was no accident. It could never be construed as such and that was the true danger. You focused on feeling the strength there in those three seconds before your hand fell back against the now icy rail, missing the fleeting warmth he always seemed to radiate.

You just have to remember to love your kind more, alright?

“I do.”

A nod followed your soft words and he saw then just how young you were. With your two braids falling over your shoulders as you rocked back on your heels, forearms poised on the rail as you held the charm gently, close to your hoodie-clad chest, like it might break, like someone might take it from you. He focused on the light highlighting your features, and he felt his breath still for a mere moment. All at that moment it clicked in his head as if it was invisible until now, at this moment.

You were barely past being a teen, having signed on for a suicide mission with a sister who was long dead now, with few other choices six years ago. You were an excellent sniper and a keen strategist. A good follower, who took great orders. Loyal as shit. Throwing yourself in front of many projectiles from day one for strangers, colleagues and your team alike. Hell, you were probably a better soldier than all of them combined.

But you were too young. Painfully young.

Much too sweet to have calluses so deep and eyes so pained and a voice so hollow. Too young to have lost so much.

His gaze fell to your shoes, then back up as you looked back out to the horizon. He just wished you didn't wither away, yet. You were all so close to an answer. He knew it. A solution. Pandora was it. He knew you just needed a reminder and he would give you one, just this once.

You were just a kid.

Yelling never worked with you and he could never bring himself to do it anyways. You were a motivator for everyone, always picking them up with words or hands if they fell, but you were also easily motivated yourself. Easily swayed by a belief that what you were doing was good, or right. So he would give that to you. Because he needed you, he needed this whole team.

And that's all he thought when he had found that metal shard in the yard a month ago, in the vast grasses that tickled his hands as it sat in the very middle of it all. The whole operation and base. And he took it back to his room to carve. Immediately seeing the small timid ghost in the shape. It was barely the size of the pad of his thumb when he was done, whittling it to near nothing, slivers embedded in his palm, his skin. It only took him a night. He worked in between sets of weights and paperwork he barely dared to usually do, fingers always itching to pick up the tools again. Its creation in itself was motivating.

He tried not to think of why he was doing it. Pondered why he couldn't put it down when he started.

Why did he wait so long to give it to you? Why did he dread how you would react? Why was he so sure of how you would?

Just as you were now.

Soft, kind and something else he wished he didn't see. He refused to see as he too looked at the expanse of stars above your eyes, past your stare. He wished he saw what you did there, what you talked of seeing, of feeling. You talked of a vast expanse, a deeply instilled hope, a timid purpose, a reminder that although time was not infinite, life beyond them was, the cycle of everything and anything was so endless and it didn't scare you. It brought you peace as you gazed at the bright twinkling gems cast in the inky dark.

But instead of an expanse, he saw a dome. A prison. And that charm you cradled is just the same. It was just manipulation, a trap to get you to stay.

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

Now you sat there trying desperately to ignore the near euphoric scent of him beside you, and how your ears were twitching towards him whenever he made a slight noise, even if it was just a deeper breath than those previous. You noted all of them and swore you could feel them in your veins.

He smelled like a bonfire, a forest after a harsh rain, coffee, something like his old cologne with tangy twists to it along with gunpowder, metal. It was perhaps what his soul could be summed up as if he had one. But you were very much sure that he didn't.

But you still managed to focus upfront once more, on Darcy’s grand hand gestures with the clink of her bangles at her thin wrists as she pointed to the moving 3D images of frightening pandora fauna. Her green eyes were bright even in the dimmed light of the command room. The hologram was now focused on a palulukan.

A leathery wolf-like thing that caught your eye. Its teeth were so large and it was around ten feet long in size, taking up the whole room. You felt your tail thwap hard against the ground, curling around your left leg as you jiggled it harshly. Lip caught in between your teeth as you tensed, but no one paid you any mind. All you felt was your heart racing so fast you swore it might break your chest open, might splat on the ground still beating its erratic rhythm. Your fingers tighten on your empty holster as if to reach for a gun to protect yourself against the hologram threat.

“Y’know, they’re not all bad up close.” Quaritch laughed beside you, a low mocking thing that did horrible things to you.

That had your head snapping to his. Jesus, he was beautiful, that's all you could think, the anger giving way to awe as you watched his nose twitch, a look of confusion on his face, but it was gone as soon as you noticed. Like it was never there.

The stripes on his face matched his nature, sharp and melted into his bone structure. Highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His recom tags twinkled as they dangled with his strong lean forward, forearms resting on his knees. It gave you a horrible sense of deja vu you couldn't quite place. You always shoved memories of your past life away and you knew why you shoved that one out quickly. The tiny ghost charm still around your recovered dog tags felt like a collar then, even if it was tucked into your shirt, away from his view. You swore he knew. Knew he owned you.

“I’m not sure I believe you. I mean this is coming from the man who was once permanently scarred by one.” You said.

A huff.

“Plus I’m not concerned. Nothing on Pandora scares me like that.” You paused, frowning. “Not anymore.”

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

His face was stern, but playful at the edges. It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t buy it. No muscle shifted in his face or his body, not a single hue of change seen, even of a minuscule sort, and yet you knew he was aware you were full of shit.

His eyes fell to your hands twisting in your t-shirt and you stilled them.

He laughed.

“That’s not what gave you away, Peach.”

And he leaned in, the smell of him was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt like you were suffocating, fighting the urge to take a deep gasping breath in. He smelled so good, your ears perked up, flattening against your hair, then ruffling up again as his raspy voice whispered in your right ear as it twitched at his warm breath,

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

That only helped to increase its speed, you felt like you would faint, sure you would, but it was the least of your problems as you heard the recoms shuffle and make to move out. The dim lights now burning bright. All grabbing weapons off the table and suiting up. You hop up quickly, eager to get your hands on a gun, to then check and make sure that your bed was expertly made before inspection later, excited to get out and far away from Quaritch, from the itch he left under your skin. But the firm yank to your tank top collar had you gasping and collapsing back into his chest, your nose filled with his rich scent. You could feel his strong arms around you, one at his side, flush with your body, the other at the nape of your neck like you were a rogue kitten. You could feel his breath, your body moving, arching as his chest expanded with his inhales, could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your tailbone, digging into the soft skin there deliciously. Heart still racing.

“Where you goin’ Rookie? Chopper’ is that way.” His eyes met yours over his shoulder, your breath stalling as you felt his eyes wander like a physical touch branding you, brushing against the hemline of your top, your heaving chest. He grunted, making an exaggerated gesture to the right side, in the direction of the hangar.

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

He snorted. “Well tough, we gotta head out. ” And that was that.

You heard Lyle laughing at your expense, pointing at your flicking tail which you grabbed from behind you in fury at the blasted thing. It was giving away way too much to devious people around you.

The Colonel just charged ahead of you all, shoulders squared and ears flicking in irritation. He looked so mad and you had no idea why. Well, hopefully, he’ll let you off easy later at the sight of your messy sheets.

Hopefully, that scary palulukan bastard won't kill you… Hopefully, it will all go fine.

********

And it was all going fine until you spotted a viper wolf from the corner of your eye. You were a mile into the journey since drop off, muscles tight and burning from hacking at plants and hiding from leering beasts. The animals still attacked people they recognized as na’vi, just not as much as an avatar driver or god forbid, a human would. None of you were as accurately attuned to silent threats as the people of Pandora were. The recom bodies were new and native in theory to this planet, but you did not grow up as they did, hell you all grew up in a tank technically.

It had been stalking you all for a long time you gathered, it had to have been, what with the way it effectively cornered you as you all were nearing a ditch drop-off along with the certain confidence to the wind up of his body. So when it finally dashed with a horrible high-pitched laughing sound everyone turned to it, but it was already in the air.

Your hand grabbed your knife from your sheath with ease, throwing yourself in front of Quaritch and swinging your arm up with a cry. The thing launched itself with so much force that it bent nearly into a c shape as your hand slammed into its abdomen, sickly thin ribs curving over your hand, teeth snapping at your face as you swung it around, twisting the knife deep, teeth gritted in a yell, neck leaned back to avoid its teeth. Blood soaked your hands as jaws snapped at you, continuing their attempt at your face. You didn’t realize you were near the edge until it was too late. A strong kick of hind legs to your ribs shoved you off the grassy hill. Your grip slipped from the knife, and the creature it was buried inside as you went down screaming, tumbling down a rock covered slope. Wind and grass whipped past you, rocks crushing bone as you rolled, limbs flailing as you fell from various heights in between harsh slopes of land. Arms tucked around your head near the end. Muffled gasps and breaths wrenched from your lungs, various hard things crushed in your chest, and mud slid into your eye, leaving you with no sight on your left side, and with no air.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see.

All throughout you heard constant shouts of your name, “Ghost!” and whether it was a minute or truly an eon, you finally stopped moving, collapsing on your back, wedged under a sharp rock and something delightfully soft in contrast. Your head pounded like your heart was there.

The world was truly spinning, your stomach turning violently. The taste of metal and grass in your mouth. Splinters of sunlight fractured your vision as you pried your eyes open, looking up the long hill to the sea of blurred faces. With a groan you assessed the damage quickly, and stood shakily, trudging over with only a slight limp to the clearing next to you so they could see you were alright. But with blood running down your forehead, arms swinging around for purchase as your knees buckled, you can imagine it was not exactly affirming.

“I’m okay. Is the thing dead? Are you all alright?” You asked, voice shaky.

The clinks of rocks and mud had your heart jumping as you moved back, falling on your hands and knees, moving backwards like a crab then standing again when sense came back to you.

Someone, no idea who, was making their way down the hill, at the very loud and very kind protest of your teammates.

You found your voice as your head swam with worry, your vision still too blurry to make anyone out. You didn't want them to get hurt. “No, no it's okay. I'll find my way up. Is it dead?” You called, wondering if you had asked that already, but truly unable to remember.

Your head was severely pounding. And perhaps you were fine until a wave of dizziness blacked out your vision, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Pain ripped up your tailbone to every single cell of your spine. You felt like you might throw up as you yelped. But after wincing, and back bowing in, eyes squeezing firmly shut, your gaze met a lovely red flower beside you. With a deep blue and orange center. With oval-like petals the size of your actual face. It was ripped in half savagely and you felt the ground around you in a panic, calloused fingertips meeting soft petals wedged under your ass.

Oh no. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

A laugh. You had no idea where it came from. “What is she apologizing to? A plant?” You paid them no mind, tears welling in your eyes at your destruction of the life here. It felt like you were still the same. You huffed, gazing at the horrible tear in its side. It was nearly as tall as your waist and it looked heavy, naturally leaning against a mossy tree. A thick white substance was flowing from the flower's core. It was bleeding.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

Combat training takes place before logic it seemed, as your shaking hands dipped into the flower, pressing against the center as if trying to stave it from bleeding out. But as you did so a burst of yellow dust slammed into your face. You choked, stupidly taking a deep breath in through your nose as you slid your mouth firmly shut, feeling a burn in your lungs, an itch in your nostrils. You sneezed, some of the powder falling out, dusting off of you. The flower’s essence was now burning on your hands and Darcy’s warnings kicked in much too late. You rubbed them against your rough pants, with the feverish feeling sinking in. They were no longer wet like though, almost like you had absorbed the thing.

Tingles raced up your arms as you winced, moving away quickly, truly just staggering around. Wiping your hands on the ground quickly again. But as soon as you stood on your feet your vision cleared, and everything became so much brighter.

Woah.

All of your pains faded away, almost healed. You felt great honestly. Nothing felt tilted or like a scene with a film filter on now. You felt alive, it was the only word for it. And so when Quaricth made it to the bottom finally, an almost scared expression on his face, eyebrows once furrowed in worry, scrunched in confusion. Lending to genuine shock as he watched the gash on your forehead heal itself, sealing with a pink glow, leaving your blue skin perfectly untouched.

His mouth went dry, gaze straying to the plant beside you. It looked quite familiar. Then back.

“You okay, Cupcake?” You throbbed at the nickname, deep in between your thighs, so sharp you almost fully folded over. What was that? You cleared your throat, feeling the tingles from your hands race up your windpipe as if you had just drank something fizzy, coaxing your words to slow, the octave going just slightly deeper. It didn't go away, the feeling flowing up your arms and wrapping around your waist like an embrace. Oh god. “Yeah, Let’s go.” He handed you your knife, neatly cleaned on his shirt and you stashed it back at the garter on your thigh with a wink.

He felt his steps still as you moved around him, grabbing at the rope Mansk threw down as you started to climb. You looked utterly fine, but he knew you weren't. It wasn't because he watched a gash heal itself on your skin, but instead for the fact that you had winked at him. You would never have dared.

His ears twitched, his tail flicking leaves harshly before he reined himself in again, determined to keep a firm eye on you.

*******

You knew something was wrong. Knew as soon as you touched that fucking plant. As soon as your vision cleared you knew what it was, what you had just properly and thoroughly infected yourself with. The so-called “dirty dragon”. You wish you had paid more attention, wished you didn't roll down a hill and hit your head making you delirious. Wished you were not stupid enough to try to save a goddamn plant as Lyle suspected. But here you were.

Maybe there was a cure.

Maybe you could make it back in time before it kicked in. You would never tell Darcy, she wouldn't help you anyway, but the chances of no one else noticing seemed slim. You stayed at the back of the pack, covering their backs as Quaritch led them once again. His search of the forest in front of him interspersed with glances over at you that you never failed to notice.

The recoms were just as distracting, but in an irritating way. You could smell all of them, all of their signature scents like they were pressed against you, nuzzling your face. It made your head hurt. You chose to focus on the best scent, his. It was intermingled with all of the other recoms, but it was the strongest, the best.

Your heart raced as you took deep breaths in, feeling the tingles spread from your lungs to your breasts with the action. Your gun kept slipping from your grip from sweat, it clung to your skin like a film, the relative cool of the morning in Pandora wrenched from you as heat wave after heat wave hit you. Sweat sliding down your forehead and teasing your parted lips. The rub of your thighs together as you moved in a low crouch was so intoxicating. A zing of electricity flowed up your body each time the seam of your camo pants met your center.

You were wet, so wet you could feel it. It felt like a period at first and you had panicked a little before realizing na’vi women did not get those, they reabsorbed the uterine lining as all animals should. It felt almost like a weight in between your thighs, as you noticed your arms shaking beside your head all whilst you kept the gun raised. On guard still even when you felt dizzy and faint. Hot and cold. Core aching desperately.

Quaritch raised a clenched fist and you all paused immediately as if in sync. His glance over a broad, muscled shoulder was quick, “Take the gear up three clicks and wait for Ghost and I there. Make camp.” Your core pulsed at his mere voice, an urge to be closer to him undeniable as you were still at the back of the group. Confusion marring their faces. He had an order against night ops, or at least he had as a human.

“What? Stay the night here? Are you crazy?”

It was Lopez, never shy to disagree with the Colonel's orders. But the look he gave him shut his mouth up real tight, sealing his attitude off.

“Nevermind. Let’s go. Move out.” Lopez grunted, picking up Colonel's dropped pack too before leaving. Struggling with the weight Quaritch didn't even bat an eye at.

Quaritch looked so good, hand loosely poised over his comm collar, the other resting on his cocked hip, braid swinging behind him with the motion. He looked delicious and you ached at the sight of him.

“General Ardmore, we're making camp. We’ll be back at 0600 sharp the next morning.” It was not a negotiation. You would have laughed at his gall, but it was no surprise to you and the snappy talk made you bite your lip, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice, basking in the sound.

You only snapped back to reality when you noticed the silence. Your group now a blurred mess in between faraway leaves, too far away, much farther than you remember them being. The colonel's words came back to you.

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

“Looks like you got yourself into some deep shit huh, Cupcake?” You sniffed, wiping at the sweat on your hairline frantically. “I don't know what you mean, sir. What did I do?” You squinted up at him, light spilling through long leaves to illuminate his figure, his eyes burning a bright gold in its rays.

You tasted your sweat as you took deep breaths, fists clenching as you felt your nipples rub against your bra with the move, thighs clenching slightly.

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

Your face blanched, going still, eyes wide as he grabbed the strap of his vest, leaning into a hip, his lowered eyes travelling down your shaking figure.

“What plant did you fall into exactly?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He sounded smug. The bastard.

Shaking your head, you moved around him quickly, the movement matched the slight wind, bringing his scent over you in a rush. It was so sudden-so strong and good that you gasped loud and harsh. Your pupils were blown as they stared ahead at the foliage, praying something would come out of it and eat you. End your misery as you feel your cheeks burn. Jaw clenched.

You ignored every tingle and jolt as you trudged on, hearing him fall in step behind you.

“Ghost, just tell me what it is. One of the scientist freaks can help.” You scoffed, turning back sharply, almost colliding with his broad chest, your own heaving, each breath harder to grasp. You hated this, every single part of it. Hating how every part of you wanted to be plastered to him, wanted to feel all of him. How hard you had to fight it.

“No. They couldn’t. They wouldn't.” You cry, gaze, meeting the ground in shame.

“What do you mean? They have cures to nearly every poison on this dam’ planet by now.” He moved forward as he spoke, cautious like you were a wounded animal. You bit hard enough on your bottom lip to split it, tasting metal once again as you smoothed sweaty palms down your thighs, tensing as shivers racked your body with the action. He moved even closer and you backed up five quick steps, they could nearly be counted as hops, your eyes wide with alarm.

He did not understand the danger he was in. How badly you wanted him. What you would do to have him and if he kept trying to come into your space you were not entirely sure he wouldn't find out.

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

A breath of silence stretched between you, both of you instead focusing on the chirps and caws of Pandora wildlife around you. And that's when he noticed it. The shaking of your hands, your voice, the blown-out pupils eating away at the gold of your eyes. The sweat. The wink. It’s not poison. What else could it have been? A healing plant was unlikely to cause these side effects. What else did Darcy-

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

You scoff, cheeks burning, tail whipping behind you sharply.

“Excuse me?” It was shrill, the embarrassment rationing off your shy side to near nothing.

He gestured to the base of a large and thick tree trunk. Made a show of turning around, arms out wide, walking twenty paces out and stilling, gun at his side. Guarding you. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't. But the thought of actually doing it, sinking into the bark, tearing off your belt and slipping your hands under your pants, feeling along your cunt all whilst he listened, watched out for you? It was insane, and you refused to give in, but despite that thought your body moved for you. Your hands were moving and your knees locking before you fell to the grassy heap at the base of the tree.

******

Quaritch was sure he would pass out any minute now. He was tense, still, waiting, a part of him hoping you’d refuse, another knowing you would not be able to.

He could smell you for miles since the fall and the collision with that damn plant. He had been hard for hours, only taking point so no one else would see it. But you never noticed, you never did.

He wasn’t looking forward to the hell General Ardmore would put him through when he got back, but he knew you would not have made it back in time. He may have been distracted during the safety presentation by your scent, your warmth, and the touch of your soft thigh through his cargo pants but he paid attention, and it paid to do so. So he knew the shit you were in and it was deep. This was meant to be agony. He just knew- His ears swivel at the clink of your belt, followed by a rush of soft breaths.

Rustling has his tail twitching up, flicking side to side, nearly hitting his bent arm on the downswing. But it goes silent again and he can't help it. “You okay, Peach?”

Your moan is loud and he chokes, nearly falling over, fighting the urge to look, already perfectly picturing what he would find. He could hear you. How slick you were, he could smell it, his mouth watering, heat pooling in his stomach, fists clenching.

“God please keep doing that, Quaritch.” You gasped. His dick twitched. He stops, stomach flipping. “Doing what?” He drawled, bringing the last syllable on a walk, loving the squeak you made in its favour. His voice came out deeper, more rasped than he would have liked but he just swallowed, hard. Fighting to not look over, slightly failing and getting a sliver of blurred blue in his peripheral vision, a glance at scattered clothes nearest to him.

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

It was wrong, all so wrong and yet he would do whatever you wished at that moment. He would say anything you wanted.

“What do you want to hear?”

A slick sound and another gasp and he swore he cracked a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw. “Anything. Just need your voice. I love your voice. Fuck!” And he groaned, ears twitching against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't. It wasn't right, but still, he talked.

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

“I could smell it for fucking miles ever since you ran into that fuckin’ plant. Could smell you. Could hear your heartbeat…both of them.”

He couldn't breathe because every time he did, he smelt you, he breathed you in and he was one step closer to losing it. To breaking.

“Never wanted to fuck something so bad in my life. Wanted to pin you up against a tree, rip all the damn' clothes off of ya’ until you admitted what you need.” He could hear your heightened breaths. “Please, I'm so close.” But he stopped, shaking his head.

“What-why?” you called, voice vulnerable. It was a whine and he was delighted. This was power and he knew how to wield it. You always wasted yours.

You could have had him back there at the bottom of the hill if you asked, in front of his whole damn team if you wished. Hell if you jumped him he would have gone for it, no questions asked. You could have had him at fifty one when you wanted him. He would’ve fucking taken you. It would have been wrong, but he would not have cared. But you never did try, never even got close when you could have. You never did the wrong thing, the thing you wanted. Needed.

But he was not you.

“I'll keep talkin’ till you cum all over those pretty fingers enough to be cured Cupcake, even if it takes till fuckin’ sunrise. But only if you let me watch.” His voice came out as a drawl, southern accent sticking to every syllable. His ears twitch to better hear you reply. It was immediate.

“Turn around.”

And he does, slow and sure like. It takes everything in him to do it that way. To not seem too eager, like he hadn't been thirsting for your pussy since you were first placed on his team, when you were barely more than a teen. You were barely twenty and he was starting fifty, and yet he had wanted you. Human or not, Miles Quaritch wanted to fuck you and he was convinced that would never go away. You were not simply something he could get out of his system, but he would try.

Good God.

His heart stopped as his gaze met yours. Your eyes half-lidded, wobbly knees pulled apart, showcasing your drenched fucking cunt. You were wearing nothing but your dog tags. He found himself walking towards you, focused on the many strands of hair that fell from your braid, plastering themselves to your body, your neck, and your arms. Your face lovely and flushed, lips parted and swollen, but not as much as they ought to be. He drops to his knees in front of you, uncaring for the gun he throws in the grass somewhere around behind him, gaze never leaving you. Your heaving chest, your heavy breasts, your full blue curves in the sunlight.

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He was stomach to the ground, palms gripping at the earth beside him as if for solace as he took a deep breath in and held it. His eyes flashed open as he watched your small lean fingers messily draw circles on your clit, hips jerking up, chest heaving. It wasn’t enough and the scrunch between your brows was from pain, not pleasure. He was breaking as your eyes met his. It was not the first time you looked at him like that, with enough lust to make his stomach flip, but it was certainly the first time he had ever been able to do something about it.

Jesus, he needed you.

“Use me, baby, please. I can give you what you need, y’know I can. I’ll fill you up, fuck that pollen right out of you if you want me.” A shocked sound came from you as if personally offended, hands falling off your body. You stood on wobbly knees and he joined you, cock aching as he stared down at your small flushed frame. You were beautiful like this. Perfect.

He was giving the power to you. Addressing the imbalance. You could refuse him, you could shove him away and he would willingly go, but he knew you wouldn't.

“ I want you. I a- I want you. Please.” It was a rasp, your voice near gone, throat parched. And your hands, hot as the sun gripped his tank top in fistfuls under his vest. He could feel your touch even above the cloth. At first he thought you were pulling him in until you whined when he tried to close the space. Hand smoothing up his shoulders. “Want this off?” He asked, hands on his vest. You only nodded and he unclipped it, not needing to be told twice, dropping it slowly to the tree beside him, your hand now laid on his bare shoulder.

“More.” Another demand.

He barely refrained from ripping the thing off. Settling for grabbing fistfuls on the back of his shoulders and pulling it up and over his head. Before he even tossed the shirt to the ground you were kneeling, thumbs dipping to rest on his hip bones. Your nose sliding up the line of his abs, inhaling deeply. He gasped, hand finding your hair, feeling the sweat there as you licked and kissed up his stomach.

One of his hands falling to the tree to keep his knees from fuckin’ giving out. You devour every inch of skin he showed. It was perhaps the first time he ever felt worshipped, with hands the heat of the sun gripping at his lithe waist, pulling and tugging him how you wanted, as you kissed, licked and bit at him, taking your pleasure with his. Your face rubbed along his hard-on through his pants nearly every third time you kissed his abdomen or sucked on a spot of his waist.

Butterflies. He got fucking butterflies like a teenage girl when you met his eyes, smiling before pressing the softest touch he had ever experienced in both lives, above his belly button.

That was it. “Oh, fuck it.” He rasped, pulling you up by the hands still on his waist, smoothing them up to rest around his neck, soothing your confusion with shushes as his hands tucked under your thighs, yanking you up as you yelped, a giggle falling from your lips. But you were not deterred, lips attacking his neck on the left side, under his jaw right by his chin and ear, and he nearly collapsed at the feeling, the pleasure that shot deep through his veins. With a deep breath his forehead met the tree. Fucking damn it, you would be the death of him. He overestimated how much strength he needed to carry you, to fuck you standing and you landed on his big blue chest, center landing on his sternum as gravity slowly pulled you down, the ridges of his abs rubbing into your puffy clit.

*******

You threw your head back at the feeling. Your thighs squeezed his sides as you slid down to rest on his hips. His head tilted back too then, a small huff leaving his nose as he went to gaze at the sky, as if to ask for mercy. You licked a hot line up his throat, sucking hard and he moaned, vision breaking to land back on you. Furious, he looked furious and it made another honest to god giggle leave your lips. The sound made your stomach flip, your core aching as you ground your hips into him hard. But with your look at the blue sky next when he dove to kiss your neck, reality cut through the pollen-induced haze.

You were taking advantage of the situation. He was only doing this to help you, a member of his team, that was all.

“Wait, wait,” you called, breathless and panting and he did, pulling back immediately, alarm on his face. A question in his lust-blown eyes, the golden green hue nearly swallowed by the dark pupil.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to infect you” You said, tears in your voice. He tensed, hands readjusting you as he aimed to meet your eyes. He hadn’t even considered you infecting him, he knew you couldn’t. But you looked so sad. Then he got it. You had to be kidding. You thought-. Fingers firm but gentle on your chin made your gaze match his. He looked down, heart nearly stopping as he saw the ghost charm glint in the sun, newly attached to your dog tags.

A gasp left him. His gaze matching yours, now electric. He would devour you. “I’d fuck you whether or not I’m high on some plant, Peach. I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.” It came out as a purr against your cheek as he leaned in, finally admitting it.

And you know he means it. You see it in his eyes, and you swear it’s enough to do you in.

You laugh, a truly mean-sounding thing. A smirk slides onto your face. His face tucked into your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you whined, hips jerking. He could feel your wetness on his fingers, sliding down your thighs, the hard pebbles of your nipples and your heartbeat roaring against his chest in tandem. Your short breaths caught against his ear as he ground into you. You sounded nothing short of heavenly, heat curling in his abdomen, an ache forming in his chest and navel, electricity smoothing up his arms at your feverish touch.

But he felt you pulling away. He took a long time to pull away from you, even longer to open his eyes. “What, what’s wrong?” His voice was nearly gone, cracking at the seams, it was all pure ecstasy.

Another laugh met his ears as your shaky legs met the ground. You turned so your back was to him. A flush of heat slammed into him as he took the view in. He marvelled at the slope of your spine, the dips at your blue hips, the stripes on your skin, the glowing dots across your shoulder blades. You place your palms on the tree, feet spread just slightly apart and then you lean back, putting just about everything on display.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to fuck me from behind.”

And his hands are on your hips before you even truly finish your sentence. You hear the clink of his belt, hear it slide out of the loops, falling to the grass carelessly behind you.

“Can you do that?” You ask, hips swerving. It was a taunt. He wanted you, he could come get you.

Your back arched, pussy aching, truly dripping, heat plastered to your sweaty skin. You were fearless then, for the first time in your life. It came from being truly wanted, even if for a brief moment. A brief dalliance would be all this ever was anyways.

A quick yank to your braid as he wrapped it around his fist had you gasping, pleasurable pain ricocheting up your spine, your ass rubbing against his crotch as he pressed into you, the tree bark just barely brushing your nipples and you nearly screamed. It was too much.

“I can and will fuck you anyway you want. I’d fuck you standing.” He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his tongue sliding along your tendon, the cool wind latching onto the saliva and making you shiver so hard you squeezed your eyes shut, knees locking, bark digging into your skin. He chuckled, “I’m gonna be buried so deep inside this cunt you'll never be able to forget it.” His filthy words were accompanied by one strong palm smoothing over your left hip, pressing against your abdomen, ghosting your navel. “You’re gonna feel me here.” You whined. Clenching around nothing.

It was painful. The plant coming in full force, demanding to be bred and fucked. Waves of pain spread the feeling of knives along your skin and he seemed to notice the switch from pleasure to pain again. His mask dropped. He didn’t ask what you needed, he already knew. Fingers slipped down to your cunt, and he swore, his hand slipping almost past it with how slick you were as if moving through water.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” One hand gripped at your breast, acting as an anchor to his chest, to ensure you stayed steady, ready for him as he thrust three fingers inside you. He swore as he felt your tight, slick heat.

A gasp and a moan met his ears as your back arched, ass pressing into him, one hand gripped at his wrist, begging for what you were not sure about- but he did. His fingers were so thick, so good and you couldn't even think as he pressed three inside you all at once with a deep groan, slowly pumping them in and out, the sound of it almost comically loud as he focused on pressing up at just the right angle and depth to have you screaming, clenching around him so perfectly.

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.

You fell forward, pleasure rushing over you like waves. You grasped at the tree desperately, knees going weak. “Please,” you moaned as his thumb slipped over to rub small tight circles around your clit. You went higher and higher, breaths lasting mere seconds as you gasped, voice high as you moaned. It was so fucking good, your tip toes pressing into the ground as you leaned up into his touch, hips grinding on his huge fucking hand. His thrusts turned faster, harder, hitting the perfect spot. A sharp press of his fangs to the back of your neck, the broad base of his chest against you, pressing your nipples just slightly against the rough bark and you shattered.

He had to hold you up as he kept pumping his fingers, barely able to move them as your orgasm took over, clenching around him in waves as he continued to fuck you. It was a momentary reprieve. He could tell that was not enough because your breaths just picked up speed again and you arched your back further. “Inside, please. I just need you. I’m ready.” He wasn't sure if that was true, but he also couldn't imagine you could be more prepared. He pulled his fingers out of you, watching your essence fall to the forest ground.

He gripped your jaw, pressing you hard against the tree, your wide eyes meeting his, cheeks flushed purple, drool spilling from your lips. He nearly came at the sight. Quaritch pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, limp in his arms. Brought his arms in front of you, his right hand covered in your slick, his pointer finger trailing your lower lip and your tongue snuck out to taste. But his hand was gone, pulled away with a click of his tongue, head shaking down at you. “You’re so messy. Look at you, such a slut.” He spat the words out and you ached. He heard your heart beat jump and he laughed, bringing his hand to his mouth instead, tongue swirling around his fingers.

Eyes closed, he moaned at the taste. He was starving for it. You tasted so sweet. Truly like a peach. He licked every bit of it off of him as you whimpered at the sight. You tasted like heaven. He needed more, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy what the pollen induced lust was craving, so he shoved you forward again, your shoulder meeting the tree with a wince, pleasure shooting down to your cunt at the roughness.

“Finally fuck me.” You pleaded, ass wiggling back, voice edged in anger, frustration. And he broke. He yanked the rest of his clothes off faster than what should have been possible, bare feet bracing inside of yours as he rubbed himself along your pussy. You were plenty wet and smiled at the feeling. He had been fully hard since he turned around and saw you, since then just pulsing, feeling as his pants tried to stretch to accommodate him.

It was a mild relief. He could give you more of it.

He tapped his head against your clit just to hear you hiss, see hints of your fangs. Moving down he lead himself to your cunt. The slide inside you was immediate, and he swore, tensing every muscle in his body in an effort not to cum immediately. “Oh fuck, Peach.” He tried to think of something else, something other than your perfect fucking pussy clenching around him, tugging him in further like he was meant to fit there inside you near to the hilt forever. You felt like warm silk and he could feel himself get close, all as your hips moved back and forth, still struggling to take him all in. “Don’t.” he rasped.

You stilled, smile falling as you peered back at him, worried he changed his mind, worried you would never get the release you needed for the pollen to leave you.

“If you move, I'll cum.”

But that did not deter you. Actually, it seemed to make you move faster. You pulled off him, nearly hugging the tree until just the sensitive tip of his cock was inside you before sliding all the way back with a roll of your hips that had his hands seizing, his abdomen lurching in pure pleasure. “Fuck sake, stay still, girl.” You clenched around him at the nickname and he chuckled. He saw how it was. Two could play this game. If he would come quick, he would make sure you did it first, as many times as he could wrench from you. And his words always seemed to do the trick.

“Should have known you were a fuckin’ freak. The way you looked at me back then was absolutely filthy, baby. You wanted me even when I was fifty, isn't that right?” The southern drawl sounded so mocking as he thrust into you. It wasn't really a question, but he stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Yes!” You yelled, shame burned your cheeks as he slid his own against yours, leaning forward over you making you moan. He was so nice and deep. You could feel his smirk. But you were rewarded for honesty.

He thrust into you so hard you saw stars before falling into a nice rhythm. Staying slow and hard with his thrusts as he spoke, his sweaty chest plastered to your back as his balls slapped against your clit. In between grunts and gasps, he spoke near your ear, but it was nowhere near a whisper. There was a bigger thrill because he was so loud. Anyone could hear, anyone could see. “Y’would’ve let me use that perfect young cunt any time I wanted, huh? Let me bend you over my desk right before a meeting, fuck you full. Have you leave with my cum’ still drippin’ down all over your pretty legs.” His words and a fast circle to your clit have you cumming again, this time around his cock.

He swore, veins in his neck popping as you bared down on him, squeezing him for all he was worth. His own high closing in as he thrusted harder, slamming deep inside you, brushing something you didn’t even know existed. A gasp falling from your lips, eyes rolling back. He pushed a large hand into the divot of your back to force a deeper arch, your head falling forward as you braced for him. And he fucked into you hard and fast through your orgasm and past that, when you were so sensitive you barely realized that the heat was almost gone, the excess of sweat slowed to nearly nothing but from the exertion Quaritch was putting you through.

“Where do you- damn, “ a huff against your back, “I’m gonna cum, fuck-, where do you want me?” His hips moved as if to pull out of you as he asked, but you let go of the tree with one hand, grabbing the back of his thick thigh, getting half a handful of his ass, pushing him closer to you as you rock back on his cock, rolling your hips, making an effort to grind against his pelvis with fervor.

Head tilted up, fucking begging internally for him to grab your throat, to lean down and kiss you, but you knew he wouldn’t.

Not on the lips. He would never.

“Inside Miles, cum inside me.” And it was you saying those words, your sweet voice breathy and the feel of you around him that did him in. Warmth flooded your core as he fucked up into you, in three hard slow thrusts, the sofest sounds you have ever heard from him escaping his lips as his head fell against your shoulder, shaking against your back, his ragged breaths making your hair stand up as you shivered, grinding back into him in slow circles. And he winced, making a noise that could almost be construed as whining if you were listening.

He was all over you, his scent flooding you, his seed inside you, spilling around his cock and down your legs. His sounds were so sensually sweet and it made your heart ache. He was yours. You would make sure of it. And you felt the heat rise in your body again, undeniable and painful.

When he pulled out, you turned, and in the last burst of a pollen-induced haze you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his neck to your mouth, your fangs immediately piercing into his skin, tasting blood, marking him. He grunted in surprise, wincing as his arms grabbed your elbows, not pulling you away but holding you all the same. It was a primal thing, an urge you weren't even sure you could have, until you fulfilled it. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lapping at the blood, delighting in the absolute pained sign-turned-moan that left his open mouth as you sucked at his blood, tearing slightly into his skin to affirm your mark.

A sudden shot of cum shot out across your abdomen as he wrapped your legs around him, his arms firmly around your back. Promptly falling on his ass with the force of his orgasm, moaning as his hips bucked into the air, chasing something that already passed.

You had done that.

The feeling of your fangs piercing his neck, marking him as yours had brought another orgasm right beside his last. Not even a minute later. That would not have been possible for any being other than a na’vi, and at this moment you were grateful for it. His strong arms held you tightly against him, your rapid deep breaths matching his, your ear plastered to his slick chest, the uneven rush of his heartbeat having your lips curl up. You looked up to see his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if in pain, rough hands slowly rubbing circles into your back, tracing the points of bioluminescence there, dewy grass tickling your knees on either side of his hips.

You felt the ache from the rough sex before the soreness in your muscles came over you. A side effect of the way he manhandled you or from the pollen you were not sure. You can't believe you just did that. You were in such shit. But it was not over yet. Both of you refuse to get up, to leave this haven and return to the realm where this is forbidden.

Your palm smoothed up his pec and farther to his neck, landing on the fresh blood there. You looked up, moving slightly off him, taking his jaw gently in your hands. His eyes looked calmer now, but his pupils were still very large as he watched you, breathing hard through his open mouth. You felt his breaths under your left hand on his chest, rising up and down with its force, gazing at his muscled figure, taking in every inch shamelessly. And he looked back at you tentatively, but not guarded.

Trusting.

Your other hand tilted his jaw to one side as you leaned against him, sweaty chests meeting as you felt his breath hitching. You placed a kiss on the bite mark and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, voice tired but sincere. He just squeezed your hip, unable to talk. Not now, not like this. He was too vulnerable.

Your pointer finger found the spot you were looking for. The small freckle on his neck to the left side, on the edge of his adam’s apple. Dipping further down, strands of your hair tickling his chest you ever so softly kissed his beauty mark. A whisper of a touch. A loving touch.

Quaritch breathed sharply through his clenched teeth, like he was in pain and your eyes watered.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen where your hips sat. It was such a soft gesture, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes once more.

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

You tensed above him, but forced yourself to relax again. Your throat burned with the tears as you pushed up off of him. Still slow and cautious. You didn't want to give too much away. Not anymore.

That use of your alias was deliberate. It was a placement of the iron wall between you once more and although you knew it was coming, expected it even, it still felt like your heart was collapsing, wildly jumping all around your body as pain laced through your every shaky breath. Your jaw clenched tight, leaving him in a pile on the grass. It was hard to angrily walk away after taking a pounding like that, if anything you angrily wobbled away, but still, it was done. You wiped the cum off your body with leaves, and roughly stepped into your clothes. Your braid was undone, brushed with your fingers and redone. No need to keep it down.

You were sure he didn't leave any marks on you anyway. Harshly, you looked back, stopping mid-tie of your combat boot to see him. He was refastening his belt silently, nearly a half yard away and you just stared at his chest, his arms, catching on his tattoo on the left bicep. You never got to kiss it, and that thought nearly killed you. The yearning was a stabbing pain in your chest. It felt like being torn apart.

You noticed the marks, he had plenty to pass him by and you felt almost guilty, at least a little.

How would he explain it all?

But another part of you, the part of you that felt compelled to bite him in the first place grinned, smirking like a Cheshire cat with all the milk in the world at her disposal. It was like you had written ‘mine, mine, mine,’ all over him in the red and blue-black bruises scattered along his abdomen, along his v line dipping into his pants. The scratches on his left thigh, and of course the fucking bite mark on his neck, carved into the perfect blue canvas there from your fangs.

But if he minded it, he didn’t say a thing.

He could heal it at base camp easily with a nice blue gel, with no scars involved. You knew he would, but wished he wouldn't.

He didn't even acknowledge it as he walked into the set-up camp an hour later with you in tow. Did not even make to explain both of your absences. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. They knew.

You looked more put together than the Colonel, and that was the most obvious tell of what had happened. No one was more put together than him. It was like the man was born a military man, created from strict order and perfection.

Besides that there was the fact that you reeked of each other. No one could tell which scent was who’s, or even tell who you were by scent alone anymore. Then if they somehow missed that, the ripped shirt sleeve on your left side and the missed belt loop on Quaritch’s right hip was a good clue. Along with the uneven gait from you as you walked up the hill beside him to meet them, gun slung over your shoulder.

But the best clue- the one that did them all in, it had to be the fucking bite mark.

No, the declaration of property,

plastered on the left side of their colonel’s neck.

******

bonus:

It was five hours since they landed back at base and all the recoms were playing cards in the deserted cafeteria, all eerily silent.

Lyle could feel the tension in the air ever since you and Quaritch separated like the sea when Bridgehead came into view. You go to the showers probably and Quaritch heads off to explain himself to general Ardmore, looking only slightly more presentable than yesterday.

They all wordlessly looked at each other before Lopez spoke up, the sound of the helicopter still ringing in their sensitive ears.

“So… cards, anyone?” Lopez asked. Everyone immediately agreed, a series of frantic nods and a chorus of affirmation as they all moved to the cafeteria.

They didn’t even bother changing, showering, eating, just walked to the cafeteria jostling each other, sharing tidbits from the mission in small laughs, but they never dared to speak about you. Or at least not what they were all actually thinking about in terms of you.

“Did you see the way she jumped in front of Quaritch with the-“

“-yeah. Just like old times. Stepping in front of shit, for that old goat.” Prager laughed, shaking his head roughly, disbelieving. He never understood that. He never would.

“The way the fucking thing kicked her off a cliff and she like got up, like she was fine??” Lyle exclaimed with a scoff, hands motioning in front of him wildly.

“Yeah that’s Ghost, alright.” She huffed a small laugh. “Y’know, i’ve never seen the Colonel throw himself in danger for anyone. But he cleared that fucking hill immediately after she fell.” Z-dog sounded almost awed as she finished speaking, still chewing her gum that had long since gone flavourless.

They all nodded, silence falling again. Mansk pulled a very serious face as if he was thinking hard enough to hurt before he spoke. “It’s because he never has.”

They all turned to look at him, stilling as memories washed over them. It was always Colonel and Ghost. Always. The clatter of the dining hall got so loud as they were awash in melancholy. He was right.

They took off their gear and rounded the benches, the cards came out and it was dead quiet once again, but the tension was thick. Hard to breathe. The only sound was cards shuffling, the rhythmic pop of Z-dogs gum, and Prager’s huffs whenever he lost (which was always). It was enough for Lyle to finally break after two rounds. “So we all agreed they fucked each other, right?” His voice not even close to a whisper.

“YES!” The group yelled, in unison again.

Relief went through them so fast, like a huge wave that crashed over and through them, their tired shoulders hunching forward like a weight fell off of them. And excitement rushed in to take the tension’s place.

“I knew it!-”

“I called it!” Z dog laughed, “Pay up you leeches!” Her hands spread out, cards falling to the metal table as she made a mock grab for Prager’s pockets. He only snorted, batting her away with a soft ‘fuck off, z-dog.’

They all laughed, feeling the buzz return to them, the camaraderie. “I just can’t believe it. I thought she’d never do it.” Lyle laughed, almost a sense of pride in his tone.

Lopez snorted. “Why not? He's always wanted her.” Nods all around the table.

“Yeah, they just both would never admit it.” A chorus of agreement once again, but the silence dipped into their group again. An unspoken thing still hanging over them.

“So… what changed?”

No one had an answer. They were shocked seeing you guys trudge back up that hill an hour after Quaritch told them to set up camp. After they realized you had fucked the hell out of each other. But for some reason it seemed so normal. Natural. The tension had to break at some point. Everything gives in eventually. And they had been waiting for you two to break for years. It took two lifetimes.

They didn’t want an answer. Not really. None of them would ever talk of it outside the group. They were not snitches and they cared for both of you far too much to even think of it anyways.

They just hoped you two fucking didn't make your relationship worse, or even more complicated than it was naturally.

But perhaps it already had…

*******

a.n: if you made it this far: I am impressed! I have had this idea since the first week of January and finally getting it out was great! I read it too much to like it, or tell if it’s even good lol. But lmk what you think, or if you want a pt.2 👀 cause I’m thinking about it tbhhhh

#quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #miles x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch fic #avatar fic #avatar x reader fic #avatar James cameron #quaritch x reader smut #avatar smut #filthy #nasty #fr

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atlantis-archive · 4 months

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Disney Lorcana Into the Inklands previews

The third set of the Disney Lorcana trading card game will feature cards based on Atlantis: The Lost Empire. Set is due to release on 24/02/2024. (cards sourced from Mushu Report)

Text:

JOSHUA SWEET The Doctor Amber Character Storyborn · Ally Cost: 4 (Inkwell) Strength: 1 Willpower: 5 Lore: 2 Bodyguard (his character may enter play exerted. An opposing character who challenges one of your characters must choose one with Bodyguard if able.) --- "Heading out to the inklands? Come on back if you need patching up." Art by Jeanne Plounevez Common 5/204·EN·3

KIDA Atlantean Amber Character Storyborn · Hero · Princess Cost: 1 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 2 Lore: 1 -- welcome to the inklands. [this lore is written in the Atlantean language] Art by Nicoletta Baldari Common 6/204·EN·3

HELGA SINCLAIR Femme Fatale Emerald Character Floodborn · Villain Cost: 5 (Plain) Strength: 4 Willpower: 4 Lore: 2 Shift 3 (You may pay 3 ⬡ to play this on top of one of your characters named Helga Sinclair.) THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING Whenever this character quests, you may deal 3 damage to chosen damaged character. --- Art by Alice Pisoni Super Rare 74/204·EN·3

HELGA SINCLAIR Vengeful Partner Emerald Character Storyborn · Villain Cost: 2 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 1 Lore: 1 NOTHING PERSONAL When this character is challenged and banished, banish the challenging character. --- "You said we were in this together!" Art by Kasia Brzezinska Rare 75/204·EN·3

LYLE TIBERIUS ROURKE Cunning Mercenary Emerald Character Storyborn · Villain Cost: 3 (Plain) Strength: 2 Willpower: 4 Lore: 1 WELL, NOW YOU KNOW When you play this character, chosen opposing character gains Reckless during their next turn. (They can't quest and must challenge if able.) THANKS FOR VOLUNTEERING Whenever one of your other characters is banished, each opponent loses 1 lore. --- Art by Mike Parker Super Rare 78/204·EN·3

MILO THATCH Clever Cartographer Emerald Character Dreamborn · Hero Cost: t: 1 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 2 Lore: 1 --- "Believe me, studying gibberish really can take you places!" Art by Giuseppe di Maio Common 79/204·EN·3

MILO THATCH King of Atlantis Emerald Character Floodborn · Hero · King Cost: 7 (Plain) Strength: 4 Willpower: 4 Lore 3 Shift 4 (You may pay 4 ⬡ to play this on top of one of your character named Milo Thatch.) TAKE THEM BY SURPRISE When this character is banished, return all opposing characters to their payers' hands. --- "You don't know what you're tampering with." Art by Valerio Buonfantino Legendary 80/204·EN·3

MILO THATCH Spirited Scholar Ruby Character Storyborn · Hero Cost: 2 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 2 Lore: 1 I'M YOUR MAN! While this character is at a location, he gets +2 [Strength]. --- "My grampa never told me about this place!" Art by Massimiliano Narciso Common 115/204·EN·3

AUDREY RAMIREZ The Engineer Sapphire Character Storyborn · Ally Cost: 5 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 5 Lore: 2 Ward "Opponents can't choose this character except to challenge.) SPARE PARTS Whenever this character quests, ready one of your items. --- "How'd you break this thing, anyway?" Art by Richelle Canto Rare 137/204·EN·3

HELGA SINCLAR Right-Hand Woman Steel Character Storyborn · Villain Cost: 3 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 4 Lore: 1 Challenger +2 (While challenging, this character gets +2 [Strength].) --- "That was an order, not a suggestion. Let's go!" Art by Kasia Brzezinska Common 175/204·EN·3

KIDA Royal Warrior Steel Character Storyborn · Hero · Princess Cost: 2 (Inkwell) Strength: 2 Willpower: 3 Lore: 1 Bodyguard (This character may enter play exerted. An opposing character who challenges one of your characters must choose one with Bodyguard if able.) --- She's seen stranger things before, but nothing like this. Art by Carlos Ruiz Common 177/204·EN·3

#2024 #February 2024 #Disney Lorcana #Ravensburger #Media #game #merchandise #non-Atlantis content #Joshua Strongbear Sweet #kidagakash “kida” nedakh #milo james thatch #lyle tiberius rourke #helga katrina Sinclair #late posts (shame)

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nesaluvstherecoms · 3 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬

“You’re not in Kansas anymore…”

Miles walks slowly towards the front of the room, dragging his steps lazily.

“We are going to Pandora.”

His tall, lean frame blocks a part of the light beams that fall into the room from the large glass panels, separating them from outer space.

“Now… I know you’re all asking yourselves the same question.” He continues as he slowly turns around to face his squadron, keeping his left hand on his belt. He purses his lips, taking a quick scan around the room, eyes lingering over their faces for a few seconds.

“Why so blue?”

His lips stretch in a grin, canines showing and tongue darting out slightly as he snickers at his own joke. The Recoms laugh collectively at their Colonel’s sense of humor. Lyle shakes his head, tail flicking behind him in amusement as the tension in the room is lifted briefly. Quaritch smiles while looking at them for a few seconds, before continuing.

“For our sins in our past lives, we’ve been brought back in the form of our enemy.”

Z Dog shifts in place, blowing her bubblegum and popping it as she listens to Quaritch intently. Ja’s ears shift at the sound but he continues to look at their Colonel.

“That gives us their… size, their strength, their speed.”

Fike brings another seed up to his mouth, front teeth nibbling at the outer shell to crack it. Walker continues to curl the dumbbell she’s holding in her left hand, her bicep flexing at the movement.

“And… with our training… that’s a pretty potent mix.” Miles adds, the end of his tail flicking slowly behind him. Wainfleet sniffs, shifting in place before he speaks.

“We’ve a mission yet?”

Quaritch looks at him.

“Indeed we do.” He replies, his eyes gleaming from the light within the room and his expression turning cold as he continues speaking. “Our mission is to hunt down and kill, the leader of the Na’vi insurgency.” He raises his head, canines coming out as he says the word kill. A deep growl rumbles from the back of Wainfleet’s throat at the mention of the man, and he leans back.

“The one they call Toruk Makto.”

Fike beats the left side of his chest with his balled up fist, a grin coming up to his face as excitement for bloodshed builds up in him. Miles grins lightly, giving a nod of approval at Fike’s thirst for violence, before he turns to the rest of the team with a determined expression. His hears fold back and he shows his canines yet again, head lifting up slightly to finish his sentence.

“Jake Sully.”

The room erupts in spirited cries, all Recoms showing their enthusiasm for the mission. After all, it has been a long time since they’ve been able to kill anything. And with their new bodies, they’re sure to bring hell to that fucking bastard who betrayed his entire species. Mansk chuckles, smiling as he shakes his head while Lopez raises his fist up in enthusiasm and Brown and Prager do a handshake. Z Dog grins widely, turning to look at Ja who is also grinning like a Cheshire cat, already planning victory. Wainfleet takes a quick scan around the room, watching with a smile as his teammates get riled up. He turns back to Miles, their eyes locking.

“Oorah.”

Miles chuckles at Lyle’s enthusiastic cry. He watches his squadron with a smile on his face, nodding once.

This time he has hope that everything will go as planned.

“Welcome to Hell, ladies and gentlemen.”

Y/N’s combat boots thud on the floor as she walks between her 10-man squadron, sat in two groups of five on either side of the large room, leaving a line for their Colonel to walk through. Their eyes follow her with admiration, as she slowly but firmly walks towards the front of the room.

“It’s not quite as you remember.”

As she reaches the large glass panels separating them from outer space, she turns around, facing her team. Her eyes linger over their faces. An eery feeling creeps in the pit of her stomach at first, instincts being alerted from the unfamiliar aliens watching, with ten pairs of golden eyes following her every move. But as she continues scanning their faces, their features start feeling more familiar, more like she remembers, more like the features of the squadron that followed her to every battlefield. Y/N smiles heartedly.

“Hello, old friends.”

The Recoms all chuckle, adoration and respect plastered all over their faces as they smile back at her. Y/N’s eyes fall upon her team Captain. John smiles, nodding at her once in respect. She turns to the rest of the room again.

“For our loyalty to the Corps, we have been chosen to fight for humanity’s future, in the form of our enemy. That gives us an advantage to explore them and their abilities better than anyone. And with our training, our qualifications, our expertise in warfare and our experience in a broad variation of battlefields… that’s a pretty lethal combo.”

Her eyes fall upon her First Lieutenant: Fernando Álvarez. He looks back at her, with his usual confident demeanor, smirking slightly. He’s also changed a lot, now being a Na’vi. But his features seem to have changed the least out of all the other Recoms. Maybe it will be easier for him to adapt in this new body, she thinks. She looks back at the rest of the team and the expression on her beautiful face falls serious.

“I will say this only once. We all knew what we signed up for the second we put our signatures on those contracts. So I do not want to hear any sob stories, complaints or any other bullshit of that kind. We are not on Earth anymore and we are not humans anymore either. You are here to bark on command and that is what you’re going to do. If you display any signs that you do not agree with our overall mission or with what the RDA is doing…”

Her eyes turn cold, icy stare pinning them all in place.

“The RDA will not hesitate to put a bullet through your heads and leave your carcasses out for the scientists to cut open.”

The Recoms all fall quiet, not even moving a muscle. They then look at each other, searching for any fear or hesitation among their faces, but there is none. As if they made a silent pact, they turn to look back at their Colonel. Her eyes linger over each and every one of them, but all she finds is determination and their usual blind loyalty to her. Y/N grins proudly. She turns to look at John again, who gives her a smile.

“So we’ve got a mission then, Colonel?”

Multiple eyes turn to the man who just spoke. Second Lieutenant Riley Jones remains calm, looking at his Colonel for an answer. He’s the only one who’s already in full gear, sitting next to Sergeant Scott McCaskill, with one double gloved hand grasping the left shoulder strap of his personalized plate carrier. Y/N clicks her tongue.

“Our overall mission is to help tame the frontier on Pandora for humanity’s future home. I will be personally assisting General Frances Ardmore in accomplishing this mission. And you all, will be my loyal special operations team as always. As for a specific mission, we don’t have one yet. We will first have to board on Bridgehead City and then we will be given our respective tasks.”

The Recoms nod, some of them looking at each other.

“That’s a little bit of shaky ground, is it not, comandante?”

Y/N nods.

“It is, Maria. But yet again, we’re now in the living and breathing form of the Na’vi. As long as we learn the terrain and the creatures inhabiting it, we will more than excel.”

Maria nods, her tongue pushing against the inside of her left cheek and she leans back in her seat, putting one elbow behind the back of her chair and manspreading. Fernando gives her an annoyed look as her knee pushes against his thigh and he nudges it away from him with the barrel of his handgun. She gives him a brief glare but doesn’t say anything.

“So we’re operating on unfamiliar terrain with alien creatures, in an unfamiliar base, with unfamiliar equipment and getting commands from a General we have met only once, while working for a non-governmental organization that claims that it will save humanity, which we also have never worked for before.”

All eyes turn on Riley again. Scott stares him down, eyeing one side of his face. Riley was always known to be the smartass one, always questioning their missions and every move, and that seems to not have changed one bit. And that’s what Y/N always liked about him. He always provided a different perspective on every strategy and questioned it until it was flawless. Before Y/N can respond, John replies.

“We all knew what we signed up for, Phoenix.”

Riley turns to John, his eyes scanning over the Captain’s features.

“Oh I wasn’t denying that.” He replies, squinting his eyes briefly at John. “I was simply stating the same facts I stated when we signed said contracts.”

“Well we appreciate your accurate insights, but they’re not helping, mate.” John says back.

Y/N’s eyes remain on him for a few seconds. She turns back to the group of Recoms who have now turned at her for an answer.

“I know you all have your doubts. Trust me, I have mine as well. But when we signed said contracts, The Recom Program was still just a backup plan. It was not planned throughly. However, it’s been fourteen years since then, and while we’ve been developing in our amnio tanks, the RDA and General Ardmore have been working relentlessly to develop the Program flawlessly. Everything has already been thought and planned for us, and when we get to Pandora we’ll have a clear vision on our mission as well as our purpose. And when that happens, I’ll allow you all to express your opinions on it. Just not to the RDA, but to me. We cannot be risking anything.”

There’s a low chatter amongst the Recoms at Y/N’s words. The Colonel lets them talk it out with each other for some minutes. She looks over all of them as the chatter dies down, before continuing.

“With that being said, we have reached the end of this meeting.” She finishes, watching them carefully and leaving no room for discussion. Her eyes are still looking for any signs of uncertainty on their faces. But yet again, after some minutes, they find none. Y/N smiles proudly, raising her head slightly up and taking a deep breath.

“Low and behold my darling friends, there is no going back.”

The room erupts in spirited cries, the Recoms clapping to show appreciation for their Colonel’s speech. Y/N smiles and walks closer to them as they all stand up and start greeting and chatting with each other. As the room gets loud in chatter and laughter, Y/N walks right up to them, patting John’s and Fernando’s backs as she gets in the group.

“Now, who wants to go for a few drinks? We have some catching up to do.” She asks and the Recoms cheer, all talking and laughing with each other as they noisily make their way out of the room, eleven pairs of combat boots thudding heavily on the floor below them. John and Y/N walk last, making sure that no one stays behind.

“You nailed it, Colonel.” John says, looking down at her with his bright and warm smile.

Y/N chuckles.

“That’s my job, Captain.”

It’s quiet inside the aircraft, except for the noise of the engine and the occasional hiss of the Recom Breathers, as Y/N and her squadron sip carbon dioxide every two minutes. The inside of the aircraft is dark, except for a dim red light that illuminates above, casting shadows on the Recoms’ faces. Y/N’s breathing is steady, grounding, her chest expanding with every inhale as the mask provides her lungs with the much needed carbon dioxide. Her eyes lift her vision forward, scanning over the faces of the Recoms in the row in front of her. Scott raises his head up, as his gaze meets hers. He takes a deep inhale, sipping more carbon dioxide as he continues to look at his Colonel. Y/N can see as his lips curl up into a warm smile behind the mask of the Recom Breather, his eyes give her his usual confident but assuring look, and his head nods once. Y/N closes her eyes once in acknowledgment to his gesture, before she lowers her gaze again. A shuffle and a thud are heard and she looks over at Riley who has leaned his head back, the back of his tactical helmet pressed against the cold metal of the aircraft.

“What’s taking so bloody long?” He huffs, his deep voice sounding nothing less than annoyed, and muffled behind the mask. He’s still the only one in full gear, armed to the teeth as the equipment weighs heavy against his body.

“Patience, Lieutenant.” John mumbles, opening his eyes briefly to look at him once before closing them again.

“This ain’t a field trip, ay.” Scott adds, also turning his eyes towards Riley who gives him a glare in response. Y/N takes another sip of carbon dioxide, dulling out their voices in the background.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” A human soldier says, sat in the front of the room, right behind the cockpit. All Recoms turn their eyes towards him. “It’s taking a long time because we have to fly carefully. We’re still moving above Na’vi and wildlife territory, and this aircraft is small compared to the one before us which transported everything else. This one is made especially to transport one team of Recoms. Hardware such as this triggers the wildlife to attack it, if not moving carefully.”

Y/N’s team look at each other silently.

“The wildlife attacks our hardware?” Henry Davis, their Operations Officer, repeats, looking at the man. Before he can respond, Y/N speaks.

“It’s Pandora’s immune response.” She states, looking at a random spot in front of her. “The wildlife attacks everything that is not part of the moon’s natural ecosystem.”

“That means us too, I presume.” Henry replies, looking at her. Y/N shakes her head.

“With what I’ve read, the wildlife attacks only humans and machines. Unlike them, we have Na’vi DNA, so theoretically we should not be detected as a threat by the immune system.” She replies, taking another sip of carbon dioxide from her Recom Breather.

“Theoretically.” Riley comments.

Maria raises a brow before leaning close to Fernando , who is sitting next to her.

“¿Alguna vez sacará la cabeza del culo?”(Will he ever pull his head out of his ass?) She whispers in his ear as she looks at Riley with a raised brow, and Fernando shrugs.

“You came prepared, Colonel.” Sergeant Major Silva comments with a smile.

“Naturally.” Y/N replies shortly, before leaning back and closing her eyes again. The human soldier at the front speaks again.

“As soon as we’re somewhere far within the Kill Zone, we can open the side door of the aircraft so you all can get some fresh air and a glimpse of the head base.” He states and the Recoms nod silently before going back to sipping carbon dioxide quietly from their Recom Breathers.

After about half an hour, a buzz is heard throughout the aircraft and the red light starts flickering. The Recoms all look up towards the speakers above as the human soldier puts on his breathing mask. After adjusting it to his liking, he turns to Y/N and gives her an affirmative nod. Y/N stands up from her seat and while keeping her upper body bent over as to not hit the ceiling of the aircraft, she walks to the side door. It doesn’t take much from her new muscles to pull the door to the side and soon enough, a blast of air bursts in as well as light entering through. The red light switches off and the Recoms all slowly move towards the opening.

Y/N sticks her right shoulder and head out of the aircraft while the rest remove their Breathers to take in fresh air. Her golden eyes fall onto the sight in front of the vehicle, wind blowing into her hair and kuru, while her hand moves to lower the mask from her face. The Recoms follow suit in looking out of the aircraft, standing carefully behind their Colonel, and soon enough their eyes widen at the sight in front of them.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Y/N murmurs.

In front of their eyes lays nearly a mile of strip bare earth, not counting the mile they have already left behind, starting from the natural tree line and ending at the land part of the 19 mile defensive wall that surrounds the “boom town”. The Kill Zone. Treated with herbicides and defended with automated weapons to keep Pandora’s network of sensors and death creatures away.

As the aircraft moves closer, Y/N and her team of Recoms watch in awe as the defensive wall gets larger and larger and their Marine hearts immediately start admiring the incredible firepower incorporated on it.

“Wouldya lookit tha’.” Scott says in awe, as they all watch the variety of gun and missile systems.

“Could blow off a fuckin’ army of tanks like swatting flies off a piece of meat.” Riley comments just as amazed as the others.

“Damn right.” John replies, as they get closer to the missiles installed on the massive concrete pylons.

As the aircraft flies over the defensive wall, preparing to head for the airfield, the Recoms are now overseeing the massive hive of chaotic construction. Heavy lift blimps and nimble robotic cranes loom over robotic swarm assemblers and hulking, yellow AMP suits while humans drive a variety of ground utility vehicles. Hundreds of tower cranes stack prefabbed structures into enormous power and processing plans, while a web of high-speed maglev train lines delivers materials and robots to where they are needed. As everyone watches the landscape before them, Y/N speaks again.

“We’re finally here.”

They have arrived on the destination they were created for.

The city of a thousand cranes.

Bridgehead City.

Y/N’s steps hold authority in them as she walks, heavy combat boots thudding on the ground below her feet. Her posture is straight, firm, calm and calculated like the commanding officer she is, as she makes her way through the Sec-Ops Armor Bay. Soldiers and staff turn their heads to look at the tall Recom walking among them, her second in command following right behind. She tries not to let her expression show the amazement at the sheer amount of weapon power and machinery she is walking through, as for now her focus is only one.

“General Ardmore!” Her voice booms firmly, stopping right a few feet away from the woman in what seems to be a metal skeleton suit. Y/N salutes, John following suit as the Expeditionary Force Commander turns towards her, blue eyes immediately falling on the Na’vi woman. Ardmore smiles.

“Human or Recombinant, I could spot that unchecked determination and authority holding demeanor from a mile away, L/N.”

Y/N chuckles, grasping the metal hand of the suit that has been reached towards her, before engaging in a respectful embrace with the General and patting each other’s backs once.

“Good to see you, General. It’s been a while.” Y/N says with a smile as they pull apart.

“True that is, Colonel.” Ardmore replies before turning to John. “Captain Keller.” She calls out once to acknowledge his presence and he nods once in respect. Ardmore turns to Y/N.

“It’s good to finally have you under my command, Colonel L/N. Welcome to Pandora. We have a lot to discuss. Come, walk with me.�� She says before walking ahead, as Y/N and John start following behind.

“As you may know, this is the Sec-Ops Armor Bay.” Ardmore states as she walks through the machinery. “From AMP and Skel Suits to ground assault vehicles, SeaWasps, and Kestrels - if it walks, rolls or flies for Sec-Ops, it gets maintained and sometimes parked in the Armor Bay. Our weapon technicians work hard to keep our gun and missile systems functioning optimally in the moon’s tropical environment, and our engineers perform repairs on vehicles that have sustained damage from contact with Pandoran forces.”

“Impressive…” Y/N replies as she and John watch the numerous people working on the vehicles, welding sparkles flying in the air and the smell of machinery work fills her nostrils. Ardmore leads them outside, the sun falling above them as they’re now walking through one of the industrial zones. Machines and vehicles surround them, all working fast and precisely, building relentlessly. The General notices as Y/N’s eyes follow them, looking somewhat in awe at how quickly and efficiently they build.

“So what’s with this place? Why rush to build not just a base but a city, General?” She asks, turning her head to look at Ardmore. The General chuckles.

“Observant as always, Colonel.” She replies as they continue walking. “That was always one of your best traits.”

She stops and turns around, looking more serious now as she stares at Y/N and John.

“Earth is dying.” Ardmore states, blue eyes turning to look at the construction going on. “As you know, our task here is to tame this frontier. To make Pandora the new home for humanity. We’re here to “build tomorrow”, seeing that we’re the last hope for a dying Earth. But before we can do that, we need to…. pacify, the hostiles.”

Y/N nods once, also turning to look at the construction. Her ears fold back for a moment, as her tail moves slowly side to side behind her.

“I must say, this new flagship installation has gotten quite far considering how little time the RDA CON-DEV has been here.” She points out, looking over at Ardmore. The General nods.

“The construction of Bridgehead and its supporting outposts is larger than anything the RDA has attempted on Pandora. Bridgehead is roughly the size and composition of Long Beach, California and vastly larger than the older Hell’s Gate. Getting it done requires a blank slate attack on the logistical challenges, and what emerges are innovative building techniques and the need to rely on heavy automation at all scales. The process is heavily robotic and algorithmic, doing away with all RDA remote vehicles controlled by human operators. From robotic material extraction, through high-tech manufacturing, and then onto swarm assembly of enormous structures, the new style of RDA construction is productive and highly organized.” Ardmore states, before turning to point at some spider-looking yellow machines.

“Swarm assemblers, latest-generation machines with a “Triple R” construction strategy - Rapid, Remote, Robotic. These machines can put up a building in six days.” She says before continuing to walk, with Y/N and John following behind. Ardmore turns her head to look at Y/N over her shoulder.

“That look on your face tells me you want to know everything about everything here.” She says and Y/N chuckles.

“It’s in my principles, General. I could argue that knowledge is much more important for a commanding officer than muscles.” Y/N replies, and Ardmore chuckles back.

“And that’s one of your strongest qualities. You’ve always been prepared, always knew how the world around you operated.”

“And that’s not gonna change.” Y/N replies back.

Ardmore, Y/N and John now stand behind the rail that overlooks the enormous 3D printers as they churn out vast amounts of components for vehicles, weapons, robotics, data equipment and buildings.

“How big is this bad boy?” Y/N asks as she looks amazed at the print heads as they work rapidly, hissing as they spew out hot, freshly printed red metal from the pressurized tubing. A construction supervisor nearby, dressed in a red construction vest, looks up at the Recom and answers.

“This is our largest printer, ma’am. It has a build volume of 220ft (67 m) long x 95ft (29m) wide x 45 ft (14 m) high.” He replies as Ardmore turns to grab her RDA standard-issue coffee mug.

“Holy shit.” John mumbles as he hears the supervisor’s words, both him and Y/N watching the enormous printer in awe.

“Now,” Ardmore speaks. “Back to business.”

Y/N and John turn to her, focusing their attention on the more important matter.

“As I said before, we’re here to colonize Pandora. Naturally, we’ve been met with massive resistance and every time we have fought back, we have taken loses.” Ardmore says over the noise of the print heads, before turning to walk away from the 3D printer. Y/N and John follow her as she leads them towards the high-tech Ops Center. They walk through the corridors, passing workers and military personnel who all seem to be in their own corporate world, carrying files and stacks of papers, until they reach the Holofloor. Y/N and John watch as Ardmore hops off her Skel suit and takes off her breathing mask. They put on their own Recom Breather masks on to sip the carbon dioxide that is lacking inside the human-air facility. Ardmore walks through the imagery of Pandora terrain, videos of Na’vi and wildlife attacking RDA hardware and holograms of Pandoran sites.

“However, dealing with the resistance from the hostiles is not your job momentarily.” She tells Y/N as she sips coffee from her mug. “We have assigned someone else for that issue.”

Y/N raises a brow, bringing her Recom Breather mask up to sip carbon dioxide.

“Someone else? I thought that was my job.” She replies, lowering the mask before looking at Ardmore for an answer. The General takes a sip of her coffee before turning to her.

“Yes. Before Project Phoenix came to life, that was planned to have been your job. However, a few things have changed since then.” Ardmore turns to nod at an operator nearby who presses something on his datapad and pulls up the holograms of twelve Recombinants that Y/N has never seen before.

“This is the Deja Blu team.” Ardmore continues before turning towards Y/N again. “After you and your team were required to sign up for Project Phoenix, Colonel Quaritch and his team signed up right after you. The Recoms you see here are the Recombinants of said Colonel and his team. They arrived on Bridgehead a few days before you, and I gave them the mission of dealing with the leader of the Na’vi insurgency.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches and Ardmore doesn’t miss that. The Recom’s eyes turn away from the General to trace over the features of the hologram of who she assumes is this Colonel Quaritch. If she wasn’t so tense right now, she would’ve thought to herself that he’s quite handsome. Y/N swallows, and turns her head towards Ardmore again, measuring out her next words carefully.

“With all due respect ma’am, with as much as I know, isn’t Colonel Quaritch the man responsible for the expulsion of the RDA from Pandora?” She asks carefully, watching for the General’s reaction. Ardmore sighs, putting down her coffee mug.

“That is precisely why I gave him this mission. The man who organized the war against the RDA fourteen years ago goes by the name of Jake Sully. He was a human who permanently took over an avatar body, and as we speak, he’s still leading the attacks against our forces. At the time of the war, Sully was under Colonel Quaritch’s wing, before killing him in battle. Hunting down and killing him was supposed to be your mission first yes, but it seemed more fitting to give it to Colonel Quaritch, since he knows Sully better than anyone else here, and seeks revenge for his treason. There’s nothing more deadly and determined than a soldier who seeks payback.”

Y/N sucks in the inside of her left cheek before biting onto it lightly, pursing her lips in the process. Her ears fold back and her tail moves cautiously behind her. She makes brief eye contact with John who was also looking over the holograms of the Deja Blu team, before turning to Ardmore who has picked up her coffee mug again.

“So then, what becomes of me and my team?” She asks. Ardmore takes a long sip of coffee before turning to look up at the tall Recombinant.

“I have a greater mission for you, L/N.” She says, and watches as Y/N’s eyes glint dangerously. “You and your team are now the highest qualifying operators I have here. Your skills and knowledge are highly valuable to us and I believe that you could be the key to colonizing Pandora.” She waves her hand and the holograms of the Deja Blu team disappear. She turns to Y/N with a proud smile, and puts her hands behind her back, puffing out her chest.

“Colonel F/N L/N, I am promoting you to Major General. With the absence of my Lieutenant General who is still on his way, you are now my second in command. I am giving you full secondary command and authority over all of my air, land and sea forces. You have always been one of the Marine Corps’ most valuable and brilliant operators and I believe this post would be perfect for you. Your mission is now the same as mine and you and your team will help me in retaking Pandora to make it humanity’s new home. I have renamed your squadron to team ALPHA, and their ranks will retain the same position and authority that they held back on Earth.”

Y/N’s eyes widen for a few moments, before she returns to her calm and calculated demeanor. She balls up her right fist and puts it above her heart, nodding once at Ardmore in respect.

“Thank you, General. I promise you that me and my team will not disappoint.”

Ardmore smiles before nodding once in acknowledgment.

“I’m counting on it. Now, with that out of the way, what do you say you join me for a drink and some conversation? Just like the first time we met.” She offers, watching as the Recom hides a smile.

“Of course, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.” Y/N replies, her tail flicking behind her, before they both start making their way out of the Holofloor room. John stays behind, knowing that now it is not his place to join them, and Y/N nods at him once over her shoulder in acknowledgment, before the sliding doors close behind her.

Y/N and Ardmore sit in her office, sat next to each other on either side of the leather couch on the side of the room, talking as they occasionally sip from a respective can of “Viperwolf Ale”.

“May I say something, General.” Y/N asks carefully, her large body sat somewhat uncomfortably in the human-sized room. Ardmore turns to look up at Y/N and nods at her to continue.

“I don’t know how I feel about this Colonel Quaritch.” Y/N finally says. Ardmore sighs, taking a sip from her can.

“I don’t blame you. You’ve never met him and the only perspective you have of him is how he lost the war.” She replies. “But Quaritch is a skilled and knowledgeable operator. He has the most experience with Pandora and his team will be very useful to us in our mission.”

Y/N listens carefully but Ardmore can tell that she is not convinced.

“I’m just not sure how we can trust a man who made a mistake that fatal for humanity.” She replies. Ardmore nods slowly, before taking another sip of beer.

“For now, I see no issue with him. If he is still as determined as they say he once was, he will be a major bonus to have on our side.” Ardmore replies shortly, leaving no more room for discussion. Y/N nods slowly and looks away, before taking a sip of her own.

“But I do want you to know, that I will not go easy on any of your operators.” She tells Ardmore, turning back to her. Ardmore turns to look at the Recom, with the corners of her wrinkled lips turning up into a smirk. Y/N makes eye contact with her coldly and her ears fold back before continuing in a firm voice.

“You gave me this position and I will fill it. But I will not tolerate any mistakes from anyone. I will do my job as perfectly and flawlessly as possible, and that includes getting rid of some of our own.” She stops for a bit, looking for any negative reaction.

“I will not hesitate to execute if necessary.”

This time Ardmore does not hide her smirk, looking at Y/N proudly. She takes a deep breath, and does not break eye contact with her, before she replies to Y/N’s words.

“Very well.”

Title Explanation

Esprit de Corps - The "spirit" of a unit. This spirit is commonly reflected by all members. It implies devotion and loyalty to the Marine Corps, with deep regard for history, traditions and honor. This spirit is also reflected by all of the Recoms, both Deja Blu and ALPHA.

ᴜɴɪᴛ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴛᴀ ꜱʜᴇᴇᴛ - This data sheet contains detailed information on all of the members of Y/N’s squadron. This may be helpful to get the full insights on them as well as reduce complications and confusion upon reading upcoming chapters.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

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hoffmans-hoffman · 2 years

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Sometimes a family is Two Egypt Gods that run a funeral home, their shy Greek Spirit trans son that has a leaking inky issue and their crazy daughter

Enji owned by @sclvixtcxnnxcticn

#found family: the dads and their shy son #mr ibis #Mr Jacques #thoth #anubis #American Gods oc #Lyle Spirits

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universallydestinytaco · 17 days

Text

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 1)

‘Twas a misty aftermoon when the sky was crowded with dark grey clouds and the airborne foul soared above the sparkling sapphire waves dancing with the gusty breeze guiding the sails of many a sailing ship, one particularly rowdy vessel was celebrating the successful aftermath of their latest battle with an infamous pirate crew. The leader of this unruly crew was the scrappy, rugged and sharp-witted Prince Charlie of the Dompler family. You’d be forgiven for assuming he was a mere swashbuckler than a Royal. Despite being the heir to the throne of his kingdom he was looked down upon his fellow Nobles for coming off as awkward, bumbling and unattractive. Charlie didn’t give two shits what the overglorified snobs thought about him because he’d rather prefer going on high-spirited adventures beyond the sea with his motley crew of sailors than waste his precious time on some boring luncheon just to get judged for merely being there.

“Damn son, you showed Salty who’s-who THIS time!” Chris cracked up as he raised his stubby hand to initiate a high five from Charlie, who happily accepted the offer. Tomar piped up: “Don’t forget how his little toadie Ketchup immediately ran and cried for his Captain for it once he saw you jump into the crow’s nest with the dagger in your mouth.” Lyle let out a chuckle when adding: “What a wimp.” The gang shared their own retrospective of the event with gleeful laughs. “Oh, I almost forgot-“ Charlie uttered, while revealing a bottle of high quality rum: “I swiped this before I left!” The sailors howled in delight at the treat their friend unveiled. “Charlie you sunovabitch, we love you!” cried Chris who already felt intoxicated by the strong smell reeking from the bottle. Charlie replied with a wink and a cheeky “finger gun” gesture before opening up the bottle and shouting: “Bring out yer flasks, maties!”

On the other corner steering the ship was it’s Captain whom they jokingly called “Mr. Boss”, he was also the closest thing Charlie had to a father since his own parents passed away sometime when the land critter was a merely a homunculi. Mr. Boss’ ears observed the rowdy party singing off-key in unison to a familiar sea shanty, a side effect of hitting the sauce. Mr. Boss chuckled and sang along with the crew as he navigated them back to their kingdom of Gremblonia.

“I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue And it's hey to the starboard, heave hoooooooo!!!! Look out, lad, a mermaid be waitin' for you-“

Charlie, who was a top the ship where the sails where draped, belted out with great gusto: “DOWN MYSTERIOUS FATHOMS BELOOOOOOOOW!!!”

Meanwhile, another kingdom below the surface, Meeplantica, the royal family was hosting a special concert in the Palace, peformed by the children of King Steven and Queen Bertha. Who was especially excited for this event was Alan Red, a lobster who was the designated royal composer and King Steven’s right hand man, who stayed up many moons writing new symphonies exclusive to the concert. “At last, I finally get to bestow my magnum opus.”

The anticipating crowd where greeted to the stage opening up revealing three large clamshells, with Alan raising his wand and the band began to play as two clamshells revealed the two eldest siblings, Damien and Amy, who harmonized: “Ah, we are the children of Bertha and Steven, great mother and father who raised us well!"

The third clamshell opened to reveal the youngest sibling…or at least it was meant to. The crowd gasped in shock as Alan has to do a double take in disbelief, Amy was holding back her urge to throw one of her classic primadonna tantrums in front of the crowd and Damien rolled his eyes knowing this concert was gonna hit a snag. Queen Bertha flipped out screeching hysterically while agonizing over where her youngest could be and King Pimling raised his fist and his trident to the sky shouting the name of his youngest in rage: “WHY THAT LITTLE-!!!!”

Within the outskirts of Meeplantica lay a shipwreck from long ago which would be collecting a lot of dust if it wasn’t literally underwater. Visiting this once bustling vessel was a cloaked sea critter carrying a tote weaved in kelp accompanied by a green guppy with a protruding snout, The critter wiggled his tail in excitement. “There it is, Glep! Isn’t it fantastic!?” As Glep finally caught up to his energetic and spontaneous friend, he got a good gander at the decaying exterior of the destination his friend had been hyping up all day…and he was disappointed to say the least. In a high pitched nasally gibberish he asked: “Eskewafibbyjibbywo! Jazazebayowozoio? (What a dump! Pim, you brought me all the way here for this?) Pim reassured: “It’s what’s on the inside that counts! Think of all the amazing things land critters have made that are just lying around under appreciated and unused…” he monologued whistfully while gazing through the window as some of his dark pink hair curls spilled through his hood. “I hope you’re not getting cold fins…but if you are I can stash you in my satchel for safe keeping.” Glep wasn’t scared as he was unimpressed, but he couldn’t leave Pim behind since he liked the guy. “Jazazewabozoyoboio. (Thanks, but I’ll stay here and watch out for sharks)” “Alright, this will be quick, I promise!” said Pim as he swam through the window and did a graceful twirl and a soft hum as he browsed through room-by-room. After acquiring some odds and ends like a pair of golden cuff links, opera glasses, a high heel and tons of silver wear, Pim finally came across an orient box gilded in gold. The ever curious mercritter popped the box open to reveal strands of stone beads and chains as well as a figurine of a couple holding hands almost as if they where dancing, just then Pim noticed the key on the back and wound it up, out came “twinkly” music and the couple finally started “dancing”. Pim was so mesmerized he fell into a dreamlike state with a tinge of envy over how both dancers had feet, humming to the ethereal tune. Once the tune stopped and Pim was about to wind the key up again, he heard Glep squealing in terror and immediately looked around crying out: “Glep! Where are you little buddy?!” He swam closer to where the sound was coming from and when swimming to the next sector of the shipwreck, he was greeted to Glep frantically swimming away from what wasn’t a shark but what could only be described as a “abyss demon”. Tall and spindly with what appeared to be a head with horns resembling coral branches and piercingly cold ocean-blue eyes staring into one’s soul. Pim grabbed Glep and swam for a way out of the abyss demon’s sight. Pim forgot the crucial advice from his grandfather from when he was just a little tadpole: “Don’t dive too deep into the abyss…you’ll get lost!” Oh if only he didn’t have a hard time remembering little things like that AND an addiction to thrills. He could hear the voice of his stubborn father nagging at him that he just doesn’t learn or listen. Pim slipped out another window and as the demon followed, only for Glep to slam it shut in his face and blow a raspberry at its squished face as he followed Pim away from the scene.

On an island surrounded with a collection of various discarded “human and land critter stuff”, another pink mercritter was casually chilling out while marveling at a crystal sphere slowly whispered in awe: “Nooooo waaaaaay…” He then heard two familiar voices coming closer to his ol’ swimming grounds. Looking into his scratched-up telescope, his smile turned into a grin as he jokingly shouted: “Yoooo mercritter on the looooose!” While waving his hand to signal his youngest cousin and his friend. Pim squealed back and frantically waved: “Hello Graham Nelly!!” Glep followed suit with a cheery: “Skawabezewayo (S’up bruh)?!” While the green guppy never liked how cold, conceited and haughty the rest of Pim’s family was, he did take a liking in his out-there cousin. He opined in his head: “If only the rest of the royal family where as cool as Pim and Graham”. Pim swam towards the sandy shore of the island where his cousin sat, going off: “You wouldn’t believe the adventure me and Glep had today!” as he opened his satchel and took out each item from the haul.

…

Graham laughed at Glep explaining his POV of the morning recap while he closely analyzed the treasures Pim unearthed, he observed a particularly fancy dinner fork engraved with the initials “M.P.” and declared: “Congratulations, my lucky friends, for you have found a dinglehopper! Actually there are a lot in this bag but this particular one is a certified righteous find.” The ever curious Pim of course asked: “What’s a dinglehopper?” “Dinglehoppers are what land folk use to comb their hair, I’ve seen fancy ones like this used by rich folk, but usually they’re more enlongated than this. It’s perfect to carry around and show off at events like parties and concerts!”

The last word had Pim remember something he was supposed to attend to earlier…but completely forgot which day it was. The small mercritter panicked: “Oh no the concert is supposed to be today! I think….Daddy’s gonna kill me!!” as he grabbed all his stuff and added: “I’ll see you later, thank you!!” Pim swam off in a hurry with Glep tagging along. “Catch you by the tide, kiddo!”

~ Back in the Abyss, the skeletal remains of a whale was permanently beached to the ground, inside was the dingy lair of one such infamous sea warlock who was as short-and-stout as he was also, to put it mildly, kind of a stinky little shitbag. He gazed upon his crystal ball watching Pim and Glep on their way back to the palace while grabbing a bowl of tiny crustaceans and crunching them between his teeth as he waited for the fireworks to light up. “Yeeeees…it’s all coming along nicely….one more piece to fall into place until I strike-“ his slow-witted henchman interrupted with a smartassed remark: “Say Grim, what are we gonna do tonight?” Grim gritted his teeth in frustration and replied: “The same thing we do every night, Gnarly: plot to snatch my deadbeat uncle’s trident so we can try and take over the seven seas!!!”

CHAPTER TWO DROPS NEXT WEEK

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youlikefanficdontyousquidward · 1 year

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Bubble baths

Sort of a continuation of this lyle fic, but recom now! (Mainly a surprise gift for @thevanityofthefox)

Sequel to

Summary: Recom!Lyle is a little body conscious but decides to share a bubble bath with his partner!

Warnings: Sexual content, smut, na'vi gentles differences (Will link the post if I find it but picture that scene from the shape of water)

Of all the team Lyle found himself adjusting the easiest. Miles brooded, Mansk was grumpier than normal and even Lopez wasn't up to joke around. He felt Walker and Zdog at least had more of an excuse, their biology was the most altered.

Although at least they still looked themselves downstairs. Lyle grumbled at the ken doll look he sported in the mirror. The lab coats had given them a very amusing sex ed lesson. One they could barely get through from the laughter of their audience.

He was still there, just tucked up and hidden. Suppose that explained the loin cloths their enemies wore, nothing to hide. Well not entirely true, the human DNA left him still with his happy trail.

He'd avoided being intimate with you since he'd returned. You were keen no question but he just wasn't comfortable yet. Angel you were you'd backed down, being extremely affectionate without pushing it.

It was incredibly frustrating. Of course you had no idea how bad he wanted you, innocently pecking his cheek, sharing his bed, cuddling. All perfectly tame behavior, it was Lyle's mind that kept dwelling on your touch. The feel of your hands on him, your soft flesh squishing against him under the covers.

You'd been enjoying the new facilities. Lyle's room was even bigger now at Bridgehead. Large soft bed, windows, a desk big enough for both of you and the en suite. This new bathroom had you giddy, jumping in place and holding his arm.

It was pretty nice, even he had to admit it. Walk in shower, large sink, lots of surface space and the centerpiece, a huge bath tub. This truly was massive, easily five times the size of any he'd seen before. Though with his new body it had to be. Even so he'd probably still have to raise his knees to fit but the water could go up to his chest.

He'd not been in yet. He'd joked you were never out of it to the others. Prager smiling cheekily at him from across the table.

"You could join them!" He smirked, jabbing Walker beside him.

"You better or I will!" Ja clapped his shoulder taking a seat beside him. Lyle feigned jealousy, demanding a duel for your honour. It didn't bother him, their jokes were just that and he trusted you more than anyone.

It was in that spirit he entered your shared room. The tell tale light and steam coming from the bathroom. He was being silly, he knew it. You wouldn't shame him for his new form, it was his problem and he wanted to deal with it.

He entered the room, removing his shirt and tossing it to the bed. He'd been in plenty of times while you'd bathed or showered now. There was no shyness left in you as you grinned from the tub.

"Dinner good?" You hummed, your eyes slipping closed again. You'd even lit some scented candles he'd found for you. Hell he should have got some rose petals! You looked beautiful in the bubbles, skin glowing in the dim flames.

"Mhm, nothing beats grubs and roots." He joked, new diet had been hard to adjust to. He stood at the mirror above the sink, stalling a moment. He heard you shift in the water behind him, glancing at your reflection. You moved to the edge closest to him, gazing up his bare back.

He took a deep breath, unbuckling his belt. The seconds dragged on in to infinity, it felt torturous. He watched your gaze linger on his figure, drinking in his muscled back. He remembered your first night on the base, you fingers lazily tracing his glowing freckles in the dark. His throat tightened as he unzipped his trousers, letting them fall and kicking them away.

"Mind if I join you?" He called over his shoulder, his voice calmer than he felt. His heart fluttered at your spreading grin, exited to be close to him.

"Sure!" You chirped, "Big spoon or little?" you added. It'd been a joke at first but he'd come to really enjoy being little spoon at night. Your frame wrapping around him, tucking his head to your chest, legs around his slim waist.

"Little." he decided. If he was gonna do this he wanted to relax. He heard the squeak as you shifted back to the other end of the tub. With one last gulp he dropped his pants.

There was no reaction, of course not, you'd been well aware of na'vi biology before he had. You just smiled up at him before reaching grabbing hands to him. He chuckled, stepping into the warm water and leaning back against you.

It was heavenly, the gentle scent on the bubbles and candles, the warmth of the water seeping into his skin and you hands. You rubbed bubbles up his arms, stopping to knead into the muscle of his neck. He groaned, letting the tension drift out with the sound. His tail shifted uncomfortable before he moved it to curl around your waist.

He felt you legs on either side of his own clench together slightly before your hands continued to his scalp. You rubbed the skin as Lyle relaxed further, slipping down your chest a little. He felt amazing, cursing himself for not enjoying this luxury sooner. When your massage ended your hands slipped forward to rest on his chest, giving his peck a playful squeeze.

He laughed a little, before he felt you kiss against his neck. It was just a peck, you weren't pushing things but oh what it did to him. He let his hand glide down your thigh, feeling your breath hitch behind him. One thing was glad for now, was that he could literally smell your arousal. Even past the soap and candles your scent was the sweetest thing.

Lyle sat up twisting to rest his back on the other side of the tub. He smirked across at you, now able to see the blush tipping your ears. He reached his hands out, beckoning you to join him. You rose to your knees, giving Lyle a good show of your chest. Water and soap tracing down your form as he stared, desperate to engrave the sight into his mind.

You took his arms, Lyle tugging you to him. The water sloshed, spilling out onto the tiles. Neither of you could find it in yourselves to care for a little mess right now. Both caught so strongly by the others gaze. Now closer you shifted up, climbing into Lyle's lap.

He felt his core twitch, an aching in him stronger than he'd ever felt. A drive to be closer, his tail reacting on its own, wrapping round your thigh. He trailed his hands up your spine, your body arching against his own. Closer, he needed to be closer.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, silent question hanging between you both. You were too sweet, still waiting to be sure he was ready. Lyle answered with a kiss, heated and greedy.

His hands tangling into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the connection. He nipped gently at your lips, weary of fangs before trailing his kiss to your jaw. He felt your hands gripping his shoulders, your hip now grinding down against him.

He muffled his moans into your neck, sucking and nipping where your scent grew stronger. Your whimpers above him were driving him wild. His hips bucked up against yours desperate for friction.

Lyle let a hand slip down, grazing against your hardened nipple on his way down. You whined, body so sensitive under his touch. Maybe from the weeks without his attention or maybe just your own changes. Whatever it was it didn't matter, it drove him feral to hear your reactions.

He tipped you back to mouth at your chest, while his hand slipped between you both. You moaned out his name, Lyle's ears flicking at the wanton sound, focusing forward desperate for more.

He rubbed languid circles against you, savoring the way you tensed and writhed. Your nails digging into his arms, even the sting was exquisite. He felt his own need growing, desperate for more. The driving need to be closer still.

He reached to his own, feeling the hardened tip pocking there, the need almost painful. He pressed in and up under it, the strange new sensation making his eyes roll back. He unfurled, his hard cock bouncing up against you.

He tipped his head to meet your gaze. Your hooded eyes staring down only looked hungry. Your hand slipping bellow the water to curl around him. Lyle sucked air in through his teeth at your touch, hands darting to the tubs sides for support.

You gently explored his length, excited by the feeling of hard ridges, wondering just how magnificent he'll look out of the obscuring water. You rose, hand aligning him to your entrance before locking eyes again.

Lyle's pupils were blow, almost black in the dim light. His mouth slack as he took in the sight. You sat, sliding down his length in one motion, keening at the sudden stretch. Still it was worth it for the sound Lyle made, an animalistic growl that set your hairs on end. His hand gripping your hips to grind you against him.

You rose again, slapping back down, Lyle grunting and bucking with you. His head diving down to your throat again latching on as you road him. You were sure you were covered in love bites but you couldn't care. Your need driving your hips deeper down, grinding after your own high.

He could feel you getting close, the fluttering walls tightening against him driving him deeper. His hand slipped back down, needing to add more sensation, craving your release around him. You chanted his name in his ear, unable to form any other word past the moans.

He was edging closer himself, keeping pace despite the dizzying pleasure. Just a little longer, he needed to hear you first, need to feel it.

Your orgasm crashed against you, crying out as waves of it coursed through you, gripping onto Lyle. He was barely a second behind, the sudden rush of warmth, the tight spasm, your voice, it was all too much. You road out your high, stilling against his stuttering hips as it passed.

Both your chests heaved in rhythm together. Lyle whispered praises against your skin, leaving open mouthed kisses up until he reached your lips.

He kissed you gently, hands stroking your hair delicately before pulling away to admire your blissed out expression. He kissed the tip of your nose, watching your eyes refocus and letting out a giggle. The movement making him twitch inside you.

"Again?" Your eyes widened, a small smiles spreading across your swollen lips. Lyle leaned in to kiss you again, sure he'd never want to stop.

#lyle wainfleet x reader #lyle wainfleet #avatar imagine #my fics #the way of water #recom reader #maybe if you squint #wanted to leave it vague enough you could be human #also fun fact if your reading down here doing it in the tub really increases the risk of UTIs #and pain for the penetrated partner as water washes away lubrication #the more you know

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naavispider · 1 year

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This just popped into my mind: one night while they were camping in the forest, one of the Recoms tells a scary campfire story. Something like: “here’s the true story of the monster that eats you if you think about it”, you know the type. The marines all know it’s for fun and play along, but Spider grew up in a culture where stories are a primary way of sharing history and information, and he thinks it’s FOR REAL. A few hours later in the middle of the night, Quaritch finds spider wide awake and scared out of his mind…

"Now, listen close. What I'm about to tell you is real, it happened, and it can happen to you, too. We’ve all heard the story of a spirit or a monster that hides in the dark and eats you if you've done wrong, but this is no story. It's not folklore, it’s not myth, and it sure as shit isn’t make believe."

Spider shifted closer to Wainfleet's low voice around the fire. He rolled his eyes at the corporal's drama, but a shiver ran down the back of his spine all the same. Z-dog was to his left, and Fike was to his right, both a few feet away with shadows flickering across their faces from the campfire, both grinning expectantly.

"Like all good close encounters, this one started when I was very young - probably about 5 or 6, when I used to stay at my Nana's house while my folks were off working. These were the days when every meal was rationed, and every breath of the dying Earth polluted your lungs. Nana was old, she was dying, but I liked her company. The only thing I didn't like was the strange scraping noise that used to come from her basement. I'd tell her constantly, but her hearing must have been completely busted because she never heard it. One evening, while she was upstairs, I decided to check it out. The steps down to the basement are steep, wooden, and creaky. I made it halfway down towards the heavy door when I heard the noise again. A slow, drawn out scrape, that sounded like fingernails on floorboards. I stopped. I didn't know if I could do it. My heart was pounding like nothing."

Spider suddenly felt his own heartbeat increase. He shuffled closer to Z-dog, suddenly not wanting his exposed back to face the darkness of the forest.

"Then... I heard another noise. This time, it was a quiet, agonising moan. I strained to listen closer - not sure if my ears were screwed on right. But then the volume increased. It sounded like it was coming towards the door at the bottom of the stairs. I froze. I couldn't move - paralysed with fear." Wainfleet paused for dramatic effect, eyeing everyone in the cicle. "The sound was like a dying animal, or perhaps a dying person. It sounded like the moans and cries of an old woman who'd lost her mind. It was getting closer... it was right behind the door... It was coming for me... I bolted. I'm not ashamed to say that I turned tail and ran straight back up the stairs. My legs couldn't carry me fast enough. Just as I reached the top, I turned back to look at the door... only to see... it was ajar."

Spider looked around at the other recoms, horrified at the way Wainfleet was telling this story. But wait, he'd said it wasn't a story. This really happened. No wonder the man became a marine - he had balls of steel.

Quaritch was staring into the trees, always aware of their surroundings. Mansk and Prager were leaning against each other, having paused their card game to listen in to Wainfleet's tale. Spider could see he was not the only one hooked. Nobody interrupted Lyle, so he carried on.

"That was my first encounter with the being, but it was far from my last. The week after that, my Nana died from heart failure. I never went back to her house. But the creature... or whatever it was... followed me throughout my life, wherever I went. When I was 12, and we moved to Chicago, when I was 19, training at base camp Nevada, when I was 23 in Vietnam... it followed me... always. The... thing... it chooses you, and once it does, there's no way you can shake it. Hell..." Wainfleet's grim eyes locked across the circle with Spider's scared ones. "Even here."

No one said anything, but Spider wasn't looking at anybody else. "You mean... on Pandora?"

Wainfleet held his stare for a moment, the firelight dancing in his large, yellow eyes, before chuckling darkly. "You bet your ass. This thing isn't confined in the physical realm. It doesn't need air to breath, food to eat, water to drink. I don't know if it hitched a ride with us on the ISV from Earth, or if it can just materialise anywhere, but one thing's for sure... it's here, and it's not let me go."

Spider suddenly felt bare - exposed. The air chilled his skin despite being a warm summer's evening. He crawled even closer to Z-dog, part of him wishing he could move right into her lap. He restrained himself, however.

"You can always tell it's near by the slow, grinding scratching it likes to make on surfaces... I've even heard it scratching the trees out here, just out of sight." Wainfleet's voice dropped even lower, and Spider had to lean in to hear what he said next. "It doesn't like when we talk about it."

A shudder tore its way through Spider's body, and he sucked in a deep breath as a gentle wind blew through the camp. Suddenly, the warmth from the fire seemed to be blown away in the breeze.

"That's enough Lyle, you'll fill his head with all kinds of bull," Quaritch interjected.

Spider bristled. He didn't need Quaritch stepping in, he wasn't five. Nevertheless, Spider felt unsettled as the talk turned to tomorrow's plans and later, one by one the recoms drifted off to sleep. Usually, Spider slept a little away from the others, preferring to find spot next to a rock or tree stump, even if the privacy it offered was only in his head. Tonight however, Spider didn't really fancy that. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Whatever Wainfleet had been talking about - that... thing - it seemed to be here. It could be watching them right now for all he knew. Spider liked to believe that Eywa wouldn't allow such an abomination on her world, but perhaps this creature was beyond her control. Wainfleet had said he'd heard it. Out here, in the forest.

He got up and walked quickly over to Quaritch's pack, grabbing the man's discarded jacket. He knew by now that he wouldn't get in trouble for using it whenever he liked. He threw it over his shoulders to warn off both the chill and the feeling of being watched by unknown eyes. He cast his eyes around for Quaritch - but the man was on watch duty, stationed a little further out of the camp, gripping his AR. He'd probably be there for another hour or so before swapping out.

Repressing his shiver, he found a comfortable spot nestled up next to the colonel's pack.

It took him a long time to get to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the unseen presence of Wainfleet's stalking monster, pressing in on him from the darkness that surrounded the camp. Who knew where it was now. He simply couldn't get comfortable, imagining it lurking out in the forest, waiting for the moment to strike... scratching its claws on each tree it clung to.

Every noise echoed in the quiet. Every snap of a twig from a roaming Pale, every buzz of a Shimmyfly as it floated uncaringly over the camp, Fike's gentle rumbling snores - it all seemed as loud as an engine roaring as Spider lay thinking about Wainfleet's story. Eventually, it got too much. Spider was never getting to sleep like this.

He groaned a frustrated sigh, sitting up against the pack and looking to see if anybody else was awake who might lend him a tablet. He needed something to take his mind off everything, but no one was up. He considered nudging Z-dog awake, but he knew she'd kill him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and brought his knees up to his chin, pulling Quaritch's jacket around him tighter.

"Kid?"

Quaritch's voice made him jump. He twisted around to see the colonel coming towards him.

"Why are you still up?" the recom asked, concern layering his voice.

Spider shrugged, turning back to stare at the dying fire.

"Hmm," Quaritch murmured. "Wainfleet's tall tales aren't getting to you, are they?"

Spider frowned at the embers. How could they not? "That shit's horrible..." he grumbled, unwilling to admit how horrific it sounded to be stalked by a sadistic, fiendish being.

"Spider..." Quaritch began, sitting down heavily next to Spider on the moss. "You... you know that story wasn't... real, right?"

Spider flinched as if burned. What did Quaritch mean? He tried to arrange his features into an uncaring, cool outer exterior, desperately hoping he wasn't betraying the confusion he was currently experiencing. "Sure," he said evenly.

Quaritch eyed him knowingly. "That's just a scary story... something folks tell each other back home to pass the time."

"Pass the time?"

"Sure. It's entertaining. The aim is to scare the crap out of whoever's listening. The person that tells the scariest story wins."

"Are you serious?" Spider glanced up at Quaritch now, almost too embarrassed to seek eye contact, but needing the reassurance that there was no creepy monster waiting to grab him more.

Quaritch stared amusedly at him, clearly fighting some urge. "Deadly."

Spider couldn't help the sigh that escaped him when Quaritch's certainty became clear. "You got a tablet?" he asked to change the subject.

Quaritch's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but he pulled out the tablet from his pack and tapped in the passcode. He passed it to Spider knowingly and the boy went straight into the entertainment system, searching for one of his favourite cartoons.

Quaritch's heart warmed at the sight, and a sly smile spread slowly over his face. Raising a hand to ruffle the kid's hair, he murmured a soft comment about waking Mansk to relieve him of watch duty.

When he returned, Spider had laid down comfortable, eyes fixed on the tablet and quite at home in Quaritch's sleeping spot. Assessing the situation, Quaritch decided that the kid probably wouldn't mind if he lay down next to him. It was his spot after all.

He left a few feet between them, but even so, the pair had never slept in such proximity to each other before. He rolled over so he could watch Spider, but the kid was engrossed in his tablet. He seemed happier now Quaritch had enlightened him to Wainfleet's little game.

He smiled at the sight of his boy.

Meanwhile, Spider was immersed in Scooby Doo, more at ease than he had been all night. He knew Quaritch was lying nearby - he could sense the man's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest a few feet away. He could never admit it out loud, but he knew that the man's presence comforted him. Eventually, he felt his eyes start to droop, and the tablet slipped from his hand as sleep finally took him.

#spider socorro #spider miles socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #recom wainfleet #one shot #may or may not be inspired by the fact i'm dreaming about scream VI a lot right now #featuring jack champion ofc #not that i've even seen it yet #anyway i loved this prompt #i didn't do a great job but I'm knackered #as usual LOL

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wild-dagon · 9 months

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I have a question that’s made me giggle all day about my LU. Totk role reverse.

If the chain is going to be going up to dragon!Wild. Then they need paraglides.

I also haven’t decided if they are unlocking the sages or just going staring for Ganondorf but either way they need paraglides. So which paraglides do they have. Because with the different fabrics in totk there are a lot of options.

Some way more unhinged then others.

I’m going to go through the options for each of the boys and let’s see how unhinged this gets

Four

I think he’s like the Addison fabric the best as it has the most colors and almost has all four of his colors.

Another pick for him or Wind would be:

The Bygone-royal fabric if they wanted to rep their Zelda’s (Dot and Tetra have similar dresses)

Speaking of Wind he’s got way more options

Starting strong with

I think this would be his top choice add it would remind him of the sip of red lions that was his traveling companion. But if you want another option

The korok fabric also screams Wind to me.

Now on to Hyrule.

Both Hyrule and Legend could use the

Gleeok fabric or Lyle fabrics as they are bosses in both of their games.

I also love the mister control crew fabric for Hyrule. I think it fits his on the run vibes. He still service his kingdom and is a hero but because of the conditions of his world he doesn’t have the nicest gear. He is also his worlds “monster control crew”

The last one for Hyrule is