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fluorynn · 3 months

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🪼 — 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : jake sully ✘ fem!reader ✘ neytiri

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Love is one you never thought to experience after leaving your vanishing planet, and soon you’d be departing from existence. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want it, and it seems your wants were heard because here you were, on a rare, beautiful planet, with not one but two lovers who bathed you with love endlessly.

Jake Sully; the one who found your figure far more pretty and angelic than any other human in earth, a blunt, impetuous, stupidly beautiful man, adapted into one of the people, Toruk Makto, Olo’eyktan, who had and took his second chance in starting a new life with you and the Omatikaya people’s daughter, Neytiri.

Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite; bold, fierce, unyielding, devastatingly gorgeous, found surprise in tolerating a simple human’s presence. deeply intrigued to know you, a simple human without an avatar. That intrigue morphed into never ending adoration when she discovered you’re not just some simple person, but you’re hers and his person, beautiful and unique in their eyes.

Seykxel txe’lan, ‘strong heart’, one of the first words she had said to Jake. The phrase becoming the first in the start of the original Sullys’ fortress; Jake, Neytiri, and you. It becomes a reassurance and affectionate name she only utters while Jake’s becomes, “This right here, is a fortress. One without the other is just bound to fall apart, and I don’t ever want to experience that again without my girls.”

You knew your departure was bound to come, but the more happiness and love you were surrounded with, the more it seemed it wasn’t bound to happen anytime soon because once you hit Pandora’s atmosphere, your sickness seemed to have …faded away. Doctor Grace Augustine, a good friend she became to you, wasted no time in trying to figure out what seemed to be the change, especially when one day out in Pandora’s nature that they’d unexpectedly discovered you could breathe in the same air it contained without having to wear a breathing mask. Her curious examination in trying to discover what had caused the sudden flee of your sickness was cut short after her passing, the answer unknown to you all.

You thought as long as you were out of danger, as long as you had them both, you’d be okay. You experienced love, but now you find yourself yearning for more of it — an experience to carry life that embodies Jake's, and Neytiri’s love for you. It is risky, of course, with you being human in a planet unknown to your kind’s pregnancy. Especially with the flaws of your heart, but you’d already tested the limits the moment you agreed to study this planet. And who are they to deny you? They, along with the scientists that stayed behind with the forest people, and tsahik try to make this possible for you, though your heart inhibited this, and it seems your lovers felt the same.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 46.8k+ ( I got ahead of myself—)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 / 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : fluff, evolves MAJOR!angst, handful of emotional parts within this, implied smut though not entirely, mentions of blood, miscarriages, sick!reader, pregnant!reader, health issues, doctor talk, flashbacks, MAJOR!character death Jake having a potty mouth, both love reader so much, like love LOVES her so much, baby!Neteyam and Kiri love their mamas so much!! neglecting infant / child, TWINS, bittersweet moments, angst-y bittersweet ending

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @mrswatermelons-blog @orzo-ryn @peachycrime @tsukicores @cazadordetitanes @xstargayzer @sleepgod182 @skeletondeerart @emmaveale123 @jakesullywhore @spadezrazz @szaontop @rainbowcake1212 @unicornicopia1 @top-crop @zhonglis-missing-wallet @c-evens @merary0815 @innercreationflower @agathaharknessfan96 @lailadabrat @theibisbird @m3g215 @ldrsog @wholelottawidows @boobitchhehe @justcaptiannoodles @angeliclynx @fallenangelii @lazybarbarianrunaway @waitingforanotherpart @a-psych0s-w0rld @im-kaii @tulipatheticee @deadgirlrin

𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 : @cafekitsune !!!

a’s note : okay so, bare with me. We’re going to take a journey within this being practically a dissertation!! I recommend a snack and tissues. There’s going to be a handful of flashbacks — from Jake and reader’s first meeting, their second meeting, and then their meeting with Neytiri. I debated on making this a mini series considering how there’s quite a few different sceneries added in this story. I’m going to be blunt, I tried and put my all into this so please, please comment your thoughts, and reblog if you’d like please!!! I truly hope you enjoy this !!

A deep inhale consumed Jake’s lungs, carefully laying his long frame beside your small lathered body to bask in the sight of your bareness beneath the Tree of Souls’ neon glow. On your other side was Neytiri, the azure complexions of her skin bathed with damp as well, a gentle twitch upon his mouth at seeing her nuzzle against you, her movements tender and delicate. The night’s breeze was cooler than previous nights, but it gifted him with the essence combined from the three of you. He attuned to the concept of making love to you both, the sky’s deep blue vastness witnessing and the creatures listening.

“Fuck them animals, alright? My only focus is you and you only.” He’d breathe out while his canines delivered a rather sensual gnaw to the flesh of Neytiri’s thigh while his hand stroked his other wife’s skin. It was comical how’d the Na’vi before him hissed at him through her blissful facade, scolding her husband for his impudence towards the creation of Eywa, but he simply snickers along while you try containing your own amusement and feignedly glared at him, cooing at your feisty wife in hopes to simmer her down.

Observing the proud outcomes from his physical doing produced a sense of satisfaction in him, no guilt or shame following so because well, why would it ? These are his mates, his girls, and as long as there’s no harm in what he does he’s damn proud to have done so.

Dilated gleaming eyes filled with fondness at the sight of you, and there’s no hesitance in his love for you both, but even he knows Neytiri agrees that the sight of you stirs something in them when your much smaller frame is encased between their larger ones. It was more perceptible to see the pleasing splotches depicted across your delicate, clear flesh. It was more mesmerizing to witness how breathless you were, both staring at you in astonishment at how good you did.

“ngaru lu fpom srak?” ( are you well? ) you recognized the stroke of concern in their golden irises, the emotion relevant and always known towards you, and it always ignited your perspired skin on fire the more they both stared at the exact same time. A soft nod is all it takes to thaw their worries away, Jake reaching to hold you close while Neytiri takes part in staring. It still flusters you as if it’s the first time; his impassioned touches, her ardent gaze, everything they do is just solely them, they’d practically perfected not only doing the simplest of acts but having you feel them deep within. The softness in Neytiri’s eyes scrutinizes your entrails in the most profound manner, absorbing everything you were in this very moment, and everything you desired to be. You enjoyed when she did this, studying you radically, never deficient in its ferocity.

And Jake … well where to begin with him when he touches you? He’s one to display physical affection, no matter the surroundings, no matter his title. He provided you with the heat you craved, the protection you needed; the fulfillment of touching you was something he always took advantage of doing, loving how the wide expanses of his palms splayed across the petite length of any part of your body, letting his long fingers curl around the warm skin with as much delicacy as he could muster. The ability to touch you stirred the poor man though; in the way his tail swayed in anticipation, his heart thumping fervently, his ears flickering with every breathy sound you gifted him with, pupils blown out at the view. It swelled tenfold when his intimate touches enveloped you whole, burning every ounce of flesh upon you in the most exhilarating way.

He knew, they both knew this, and they carry no hesitancy while basking in their affects to decompose you so.

“Why do you two do this to me?” A soft giggle rose from you, failing to keep still between them while being practically tortured from their overwhelming acts, and Jake grinned deliberately at this while Neytiri’s warm laughter met your ears. A heartily sound she accommodated for her mates alone, only ever letting herself go when in your presence. A faculty of a dream it was to you — to be marveled at by two angelic like creatures, and yet it hits you that this is your reality.

Neytiri’s smile formed a soft pucker, pressing against your glistening temple. “There is a problem with staring at you, lovely girl?” Your head shook in response, a hum rumbling up your throat in hence of Jake’s fingers ascending up your bare side, winding around your hip to pull you out of Neytiri’s grasp.

Spectrums of gold and green glitter those honed eyes of his, emphasizing the mirth and happiness he was feeling in that moment. “Then we do this because we enjoy it, angel.” The nickname angel was something he’d grown fond of calling you, defending his claim on the word by saying, “well, what can I say? I thought you were like an Angel to me the second we first met. That’s so wrong for me to think you're that pretty?” it earned him a full on laugh and a playful smack across his stomach. He didn’t mind, and you didn’t pry him to stop calling you that. It sounded nice, the way it descended from his lips.

While he practically had you splayed over his body, Neytiri had slid even closer to you both, her kisses continued meeting your temple, used to the way she’d always do it when it was the only patch of skin unveiled from the exomask you’d been required to wear before. When the revelation of you no longer needing that mask, Dr. Grace Augustine had you wear it still to see if it would affect you in some sort of way and just in case you reacted badly to being without it, and you wore it for a few months before she realized you didn’t need it anymore. You find it amusing how they forget they now have full access to your bare face now, the feeling growing when they waste no time in touching you there, puncturing each of your features with firm kisses like how Neytiri was doing now as she discreetly turned you away from Jake.

“Hey, quit stealing her from me.” Your laughter met Neytiri’s mouth, your line of vision being greeted with the smile he gave her. He shifted onto his side, arm falling around her waist and tugged you both flush against him.

Her head turned away from you and towards him. “You stole her first.” Her glaring expression made him chuckle, and you watched as he leaned his forehead into hers, the surface of their noses meeting gently. “Truce.”

You smile softly and rest your chin down on Jake’s chest, your eyes following the movements of his ears twitching from the breath delivered from her parted lips. It’s truly a moment to witness when he folds upon both your presence. The way he gives in at times, practically liquifying in your palms with the sensations he feels from them.

His arm suddenly tightened around you both, very careful in pressing your body into Neytiri’s front in awareness of her toned belly, in awareness that perhaps another would fill her womb. You faced her, “You’re okay?” She huffed out a chuckle and laid a palm over your cheek. “I do not think anything bad will happen, ma Y/N. And we have participated in other activities and this is what you worry about?”

Jake’s and your shoulder lifted in unison, “yes?” A kiss was delivered to his cheek, and he passed it on to yours. “ it wouldn't be wrong to think that you should have one?”

Jake’s words, and their consonants alike, seemed to have knocked the wind out from your lungs as you gaped between him and Neytiri in shocking disbelief. “One as i-in a child?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Your eyes widened. You had even felt every muscle in Neytiri’s body tense against you, the new knowledge surprising you both. It has been 3 months since she gave birth to the firstborn, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. A healthy hearted, full and beautiful baby boy every one of you fell in love with the moment he came to view.

“You'd like to hold our baby boy, angel?” Jake had spoken, a shocked smile upon his lips at the sight of his firstborn squirming in his hold. You’d wasted no hesitation in reaching out, his stubby body perhaps being the size of a human toddler when he was handed to you. He was hefty to carry, yes, but it had been worth it for the second he gazed at you with those round eyes and his little fingers twined around the length of yours, something ignited within you.

During the months of her pregnancy, it had generated a newfound interest in your heart when you learned from the Tsahik what occurs during a Na’vi’s gestation process. And then, to everyone’s shock, your dear friend’s avatar, Grace Augustine had been impregnated, a beautiful baby girl adopted by the three of you, named Kiri te Suli Kìreysì'ite. Precious and pure she was, and somehow she formed a great attachment with you. There it was again, that pure desire to bore.

Even before, subtly bringing up the topic of babies from time to time. The desk in your former tiny room of the old RDA having infant books sprawled across its surface, an old memory book you happened to bring along opened to the parts of your own infancy.

“Imagine holding one just the size of your palm, Tiri? Right, they're smaller than Na’vi babies, Jake?” You had squealed, a bright smile stretched across your face when Jake’s head had popped into your room. He’d only chuckle softly and nod before telling you both to accompany him back to the village while Neytiri sighed and you pouted cutely.

While both had been very cautious about you residing in Pandora after the war, Jake had been more apprehensive than hers, being a far more palpable thing. It’d been present in every decision made, in arguments that sometimes didn’t include you yet were about you between him and Neytiri whenever the topic of amplifying your family beyond Neteyam, you, Neytiri and himself.

“Ma Jake, if this is what she desires, do you not think we should grant her this?” She’d insist, her heart deeply aware of your longing for motherhood. “We don’t know if her health will falter its improvement—”

“Exactly, we don’t know. No human has ever been pregnant here, let alone one that’s not healthy. Grace couldn’t finish checking her, and I don’t wanna risk it. I — we can’t risk her, Neytiri. ”

His perturbation wasn’t unconscionable to her, though. She had heard from him, from Norm, and partially from Grace of your well established dreams to carry and birth life, and it was fully supported by her; she understood your yearning, and yet she also understood the residence of her husband’s focus where the complications that could assist pregnancy.

They both were debating whether or not to possibly ask the scientists that had stayed behind with them if they’d be willing to help, but she’d been more hesitant in that apartment because she didn’t have full trust with human technology. Denying you was something they never enjoyed doing, and she wasn’t fond of it either, but she had to agree with Jake that they couldn’t imperil your health.

“Just promise me you won’t … try motivating this. Neteyam and Kiri are enough for us, for her.”

“And who are we to decide for her ! and what if she takes it in a different way–”

“Neytiri. I’m not saying to talk badly of it, but don’t push it, please.”

She doesn’t understand fully, how he manages to cautiously creep around the subject and she sees how it vexes you how leading her to feel the same, especially when you both were mindfully aware more additions to your family was something he wished for as well. Apprehensive of your wellbeing incited his impedance, and despite her wanting whatever it is you wished for, Jake knew she had resistance in her motives as well due to the loss of her sempul and her home. Grief was something he hadn’t been able to process thoroughly for there’d been war, there’d been choices that postponed him from feeling it, but now the probability of experiencing it and the reason being of your loss was one they both weren’t fond of.

You understood them and their reasons, which is why his words jolted through you. It wasn’t common for either of them to lead the topic of a child– because it was always you who brought it to the surface.

“What’re you two up to? This better not be some joke.” You glowered at him, then her, then him again. The edges of Jake’s eyes had channeled from his smile, watching as Neytiri’s perplexed face turned a bit … gentle. Irritation fueled in you at the silent conversation floating between their gazes, words whispered in each other’s minds and you wished right there and then to smack Jake just because.

“Forget what I said–” is what sat at the tip of his tongue but his wife’s look of injunction spoke otherwise, and he inwardly collected his words as she took lead, having a slight understanding of what he meant. “We are up to nothing, my love. We know this is something you’ve dreamed of for a long time and we want all your dreams to come true.” They both wore a smile, Jake’s more broadened than her petite one. You stared longer at him though, because he’d been the one more shut off with this, and then at her. This wasn’t one of their ploys, not when they looked at you this way.

Neytiri’s effortless way in using her words to reassure you is something you’ve yet to grow used to. “H-how long have you been up to this?”

His laughter met your ears but was quick to suppress it when Neytiri’s glare –unknown to you– was shot his way. “Yes, Jake? About how long have we been thinking about this?” It was then you realized she hadn’t been informed of his plans, and you followed along with your own look of suspicion though not without giving her swift one as well.

He cleared his throat, propping his arm up so his cheek now rested over his palm and looked at you both. “Want my honesty?”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“…What she has said.”

“I didn’t really think about it. Not in a committed type of thing, well not before like how you two want to until … well a few minutes ago when we did the deed deed.”

Your brows rose and Neytiri’s mouth twisted. “ You mean to say when you happened to be inside of our Y/N?” A giggle was shared between you two women, and he had to hold back the eyeroll that was building up. “Okay, when you guys say it like that it just sounds like I’m some pervert–”

Your giggles erupted into full on laughter and it led Jake to groan loudly, flipping onto his stomach and buried his flushed face into his arms. “Look I just want another kid with you–Y’know what, I take it back–”

You looked up at Neytiri, releasing one more giggle before she pushed him onto his back. You smiled and crawled onto his abdomen, raising his jaw to look at you. “You’re adorable, y’know that, skxawng?” Humming, his hands carefully finding their niche over your hips. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

You laughed, gently kissing his lips before hunching over to repeat the same on Neytiri’s as she rested her cheek on his shoulder blade. Your weight slid down his torso until your head found solace in the beating within his chest, the hitched thumps his heart created, and your lips curled when Neytiri’s palm twined around yours and pressed it to her chest, being met with her own unnatural heartbeat reflecting his; irregular and thrilled they were as it always was after sex. And of course, so was yours, though slightly more steady. It was abnormal though, the difference your heart outdid anyone else’s, for that matter. Between them, you felt a hint of balance within you, for how can your heart not be fine when it pulses in sync with your mates?

“Tiri, love, what about you? You want us to have another baby?” You queried, deeply observing her and she nodded softly. The dark braids cascading down her shoulders fell to her back when she sat up, palms fully enveloping your face. The gleaming specks upon her cheekbones flickered much brighter under Pandora’s glow, accompanied by the tender curve her lush lips stroked. It’s unfair sometimes how breathtaking she is, enough to draw you close to tears, which apparently do so.

The pads of her thumbs lightly dabbed away crystalline–like tears that settled beneath your eyes. Her feline-like nose nuzzled against the bridge of yours, “Srane, tiyawn.” (yes, love.)

“A baby I’ll have.”

She nodded once more along with Jake. “A baby you’ll have.”

You glanced down at your lap, chewing on your lip. “Are you sure, you two? You both know how much I’ve been wanting this, how strong i feel about this—”

Jake’s mouth skimmed across yours, each of their hands cradling your cheeks. The contact startled you yet as instincts, you melted right into them. “ This is something you want, right?” You nodded, and he smiled, “Then who are we to deny you, baby? We want what you want.”

He nodded his head at Neytiri, and her palm fell from your cheek, expanding fully over your chest. “Your heart is twined with our own, seykxel txe’lan. We, with the will of Eywa, beat as one. Your desires are our desires.”

Jake’s lips curled over his teeth, baring them into a wide grin and led your hands to each of their chests. “So have a baby with us, angel. Yeah?”

Your smile was one brighter than anything Pandora had to offer, face carrying the whole definition of infinite happiness. “Yeah.”

His laughter reverberated throughout the night sky, hoisting himself up to encase you and Neytiri in the tightest and warmest of hugs. Her breathy laughter joined his, and your giggles followed along when Jake kissed you, hard. Before your eyes fluttered closed, you could see the toothy smile Neytiri portrayed, head tilting to the Tree of Souls and softly whispered, “Thank you, Great Mother.” before she joined the gentle assaults in kissing every part of your face while his lips stroked down your body; the curve of your jaw, the side of your neck, the length of your arms. The next thing you know, your back is firmly pressed into Neytiri’s chest while Jake’s mouth strode down the flesh of your tummy, an usher of praises filling your ears as his tongue found its destination between your doused essence once again. You didn’t retaliate from them, giving yourself to them as your fingers card through Jake’s long locs and nestled your face within the angle of Neytiri’s neck and your euphoric cries from the saccharine sensations of your mates consumed their senses as they demolished you, and each other, entirely.

Being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life wasn’t precisely what Jake intended for. He still wanted to live, wanted to be free in his abilities to do whatever he desired, though apparently being diagnosed with paraplegia can greatly affect one’s plans in life. There were debts he couldn’t afford to pay, such as the surgery that could perhaps mend his damaged spine. Damage caused by major conflicts and deployment to Venezuela while he was there as a Marine. Ex Marine. Tommy Sully, also known as Jake’s twin scientific brother, had tried convincing Jake in letting him guarantee enough money for the surgery so he could get back up on his feet.

“I’m not some kind of charity fund, Tom. Back off, I don’t want any of your geek money. Don’t expect me to start walking and give you a hug in excitement.”

“Will you let go of that damn soldier pride and just let me help you, moron?”

Jake refused, especially given the harsh nickname to which Tommy could only sigh to, thumb rubbing over his tight temple. “At least stay in this hospital during the time they tell you to.”

Wasting his life in a hospital — which happened to be connected to his twin brother for some reason— for 11 days wasn’t on the agenda either, and yet here he was, strolling through the stark hallways of this specialized hospital in hopes to find some kind of distraction from all that’s been happening. Joining the United States Marine Corps came with severe consequences, apparently.

An abundance of this building was not only a hospital but some kind of lab, Jake noticed, and it immediately clicked in his brain that Tommy had been one of the scientists upon these teams to construct this. He didn’t want to return to his room just yet and see Tommy standing there, asking him where the hell has he been, so he continued exploring various wings of the facility, a curiosity seeping through him at what his brother had been up to.

There were rooms in which patients were physically injured; prosthetics taking place of a retired soldier’s flesh arm and leg, another with a similar case of being paralyzed though this one was quadriplegia, and illnesses he didn’t have a familiarity with, and that once peeking curiosity was washed away by the waves of melancholy and distinguish. He’d admit he didn’t enjoy feeling this way at all, but it was expected considering the field Tommy had described working with. He could only smile so briefly at the patients that caught his gaze in hopes of some sense of comfort.

Jake’s hands were growing used to pushing the large wheels on each of his sides, trying to ignore the sting of soreness that came along with it while he rolled himself down different paths. He then found himself going through a children’s section, and it twisted something in him, frowning at the thought of them suffering through things that weren’t supposed to occur to them. While the world had evolved into something advanced, it was menacing as well due to the ones now in charge, shaping the world into something dimmer. These kids shouldn’t have to pay the price for that, he thought.

Then there was a ward of infants, and that warped a different sense that the other wards he had previously traveled through. A tiny sense of hope, tinged with sadness, resided in his chest. The chance of them surviving in this new world seemed no good, if anyone asked him. He really shouldn’t be there, thinking what would become of them. But he couldn’t help staying in front of and leaning into the glass window, chin jutting out and peering at the newborn babies behind it, and he couldn’t resist the smile crawling onto his face.

“You guys were born in the wrong time,” he whispered, words fogging the brim of the glass. “You need good caring.” A finger rose to it, its pad gently swiping over before lingering there for a moment, right beside where a baby’s gentle face came to view. Never was he one to desire children, and even if he did it seemed to come with difficulties now that he became paralyzed from the waist down. Still, it didn’t take away the astonishment he felt when looking at them.

Amongst his awe, a proximity of a presence grazed beside Jake, and accompanying this presence came a fragrance enriched with citrus-like and something floral. The combination was potent enough to tug his attention.

Jake’s gaze transferred from the babies up to the body of a young woman standing questionably close to him. They both were the only ones present in front of the window, and there was plenty of space for the both of them to stand a good amount apart. He knew he shouldn’t be one to talk, but he grew entertained at how she had to hitch up on the points of her toes to peer farther into the window, completely enchanted by each of the three rows of babbling infants and their soft squirming. She looked cute, if he was being honest.

Cyan eyes observed her: a gown colored stark white draped her form, similar to the one he wore, stopping just right below the ankles, and the ex marine smirked slightly at the long socks hugging her feet; mix-matched colors yet fuzzy enough to distract from the distinct coloring. The color of her hair was bold, brilliant and adorably disheveled. The complexion of her skin was a little pallid, but he could make out the warmness of her skin’s color, stealing the man’s air he once inhaled.

Jake had never seen eyes so wide, so alive. Those very eyes scanned the babies’ tiny writhing bodies that were carefully enveloped in blankets, an adoration and something he recognized as a want within them. The girl right before him, portrayed a beauty that was too fucking rare for this world. Too delicate, too angelic and pretty, as though she was created to astound. She astounded Jake, the satirical comment he had made earlier of walking out of excitement returning to his mind, thinking that it may actually come to life if he kept feeling this way and looking at her.

Every muscle in him halted movement, and despite the efforts to wrap his fingers around the wheels and push, his hands remained still over them, wheels steady over the gray flooring. Jake’s lips compressed into a thin line and his eyes continued watching the woman smile — that damn smile — and felt his heart practically leap out of his chest.

“I agree with what you said.” Her voice, soft and sweet, steady and spoken to him, chirped as she held onto the steel metal of an IV pole. Soft and sweet, a sound he’d never been used to hearing but now, he found himself absorbing it, clinging onto it.

His silence was terribly loud and thickening, and he blinked. Swallowed. Then repeated the action a few more times. Say something, dipshit. “Yeah?”

A light chuckle burned through his ears, rattling his heart. “Yeah. But you wanna know what makes it easier for them to get the care they deserve?”

What the hell were words anyway? Jake thought as he searched his brain for a response to her question. Her smile was full of mirth as she saw his reflection on the window, how his mouth moved then closed, then opted for a small nod.

“It’s easy to just fall in love with them at first glance. I mean, who’d deny these pure babies?” She questioned in disbelief, and if Jake was sure he wasn’t delusional about it, he saw how she scooted a bit closer, her forearm brushing his shoulder. “And I’m sure they love you immediately, and when you realize that they do, that this tiny human is capable of loving you and needs you, it isn’t hard to provide them with care and love.”

Jake bobbed his head once more, not sure how to respond to such words, simply staring at her stunned. Stunning was another thing that fit her, he was sure of it.

“That’s how life goes, yeah? Well, if life was with a bit more….simplicity that maybe it’s possible. Love could, and can be more simple. Am I right?” She didn’t once look towards Jake’s direction, her pretty face focused on these newborns she loved so much the entire time, and it surprised him how much love could build in such a short span of time. Then of course, he didn’t know her. Maybe she’d been here longer than he has, for all he could make out.

He muttered a small ‘yeah, you are’ with a jumbled up mind, trying to process each word, memorize every syllable uttered in them. He felt confused, unrecognizable to why he’s behaving in such a way. Well, he knew why; he was captivated by a pretty, very pretty angel’s presence. But this angel didn’t brush his presence off though because of his condition, she acknowledged him very ordinarily. Foreign was the sensation, and the precipitance of its arrival startled his nerves.

The woman finally turned, slightly dipping her head down and glanced at him briefly before looking back at the babies, and Jake noticed how the back of her hand pressed into his bicep. Weird but comforting it felt for him. He wanted that weirdness to last a bit more.

“Well, see ya.” Two words and she, along with her touch, was off. The only thing left of her in his atmosphere was the aroma she carried.

Jake found himself enjoying this, inhaling deeply while faintly smiling to himself, “See ya.”

She was long gone by now, but her affinity lingered there and in his mind. He returned to his room later that day and of course, Tommy had been there, Jake’s smile still noticeable, and his brother couldn’t help but raise a brow, “So now you like the hospital?”

He only smirked, leading himself to his lanky bed to avoid his flushed face from being seen as he recalled the angel who was the cause of it, “Loving it, actually.”

The morning after that night, Jake had awoken without mentioning it; gently shaking you and Neytiri awake, informing you both that you had to head back to the village and Neteyam and Kiri who had stayed with his grandmother. Neytiri, to your surprise, didn’t speak of it either. She did have a hinge of frustration in her eyes, but kept a soft smile nonetheless.

You did, however, catch them having one of their silent conversations over your head on the way back. Once you had arrived, Jake had gathered his firstborn in his arms while pecking his head, Neytiri cooing at him as he sported a gummy smile before extending his arms out towards her. And Kiri, she was entirely focused on you while Mo’at held her, stretching her little arms your way. The moment you carried her with a wide smile, you caught the glimpse of their expressions, Neytiri’s pointed stare while Jake’s stayed neutral though the tension radiated off him. Mo’at had still been present, her forehead creased at her daughter and son-in-law’s shifted behavior. The Tsahik glanced at you in question, and you gave a small eye roll to say, ‘ nothing major’ which she caught onto. She did have a particular idea of what was the reason towards this, but she wanted it to hear from you considering you are the main part of it.

The topic was neglected during your morning meal, with Jake tugging you out of your spot between them and onto his lap as always, and Kiri on your lap while Neytiri held Neteyam on her own, her free hand slipping through yours, as always, while you all dived into your food.

You watched them, longed for their words only to be proved useless when Jake settled you down and placed a quick kiss on each of your heads before attending to his duties as Olo’eyktan. And Neytiri … she didn’t even attempt to bring it up either. Simply either going on with other topics, asking you to assist her in duties, or doing a few of her tasks on her own, later on heading out after placing a soft kiss on your temple and leaving you with the babies in your arms.

His little fingers wrap around your pointer one, round amber eyes looking at it in wonder while his pure babbles floated as if speaking to you. “ you’re quite the talker for a newborn, aren’t you, baby boy?” You cooed, and this he stayed silent at before his baby talk grew louder and as he adjusted himself in an almost straight sitting position. It was normal, you'd have been told, for babies of Pandora to become more adapted after a few days of being birthed, it still astonished you every time you saw the two wide awake, heads turning fully and inspecting their surroundings. You glanced at Kiri, chuckling to see her chin dipping down when her hands found a firm grip around the handcrafted necklace Neytiri happened to woven, just for you. You stared at the two with a small smile, being so wrapped up in your wandering mind that you didn't even realize Mo’at had entered, approaching you and her grandchildren slowly.

“ Ma‘Ite, ‘upe lu tìsraw ngeyä?” ( daughter, what is the matter?) Mo’at crooned softly and your eyes snapped up. She’d taken part in calling you ‘daughter’ following the mournful events of her husband, of her home, and of the battle against the ‘Sky People’. She didn’t care if you were one of them, she valued the way you cared for her people, for her daughter, and you never expected becoming so close with their spiritual leader and be so favored by the people, yet that became your life.

“Nothing, Ma Tsahik.” You glanced down at the two, your legs criss-crossed as they both were supported by not just your arms but legs as well. You lightly moved your legs beneath the babies’ weight earning a tiny squeal from Kiri while Neteyam beamed. You smiled and lifted your head only to be greeted with her narrowing her eyes. “Do not contempt me with formality, child.”

Your head slightly dipped, “I’m sorry, ma sa’nok. ( mother ) I didn’t mean that I’m just…” you paused, chewing on your lower lip for a moment. “I’m just frustrated. And confused.” Mo’at now settled down beside you, hand falling to stroke the patch of dark hair upon Kiri’s head and she’s quick to look at her grandmother, smiling brightly before returning her attention to the accessories around your neck.

“About?” She pressed, a warm smile turning into one of concern and awareness from your silence. “Is it my daughter and Jake?”

You bobbed your head, blowing out a deep breath. “I’m married to two stubborn people.” A low hum left Mo’at, motioning for you to hand her Neteyam.

“I’m sorry,” you added, grunting when you lifted him up. “You are getting heavy, ‘Teyam.” You playfully glowered at him when he was in his grandmother’s arms, and he heaved out a soft giggle from the sensations your fingers created to his sides. “I don’t mean any offense towards Neytiri.”

Mo’at chuckled softly, propping him on her lap, “Do not apologize, while my daughter is smart, she can be very thick headed when she wants. And as for Jakesully… it is common for him to be that way. But I am a mother, Y/N,” She explained, face softening as she looked over Neteyam’s familiar features, then at Kiri’s. “I notice the small things, even with you. We may not be the same species or from the same world, but Eywa placed you in our people, my family, my care.”

“I have known you for a fair amount of time,” she continued. “What age were you when you first arrived?”

“19. Well, 5 years had passed, so 24.” She nodded in acknowledgment, “And now you are 4 and twenty, though physically you are around 9 and ten, correct?” You nodded, “Srane, ma sa’nok.” ( yes, mother ) She smiled triumphantly at her knowing, “ I have heard of this sickness of yours from Grace, how it has been with you throughout your entire life until you came here. Perhaps this is not what you want to hear, but if you think your mates are stubborn, then you have not been paying close attention.” She softly chastised.

“But, sa’nok, I do pay attention, believe me I do! I understand that they’re worried and—” you’re quick to be cut off by her firm tone of voice. “But at the same time, they do not have authority over what you wish to do, Y/N. If you want to bore children, and if they have already given you three the opportunity to try, then you have the right to confront them about it. Do you understand, ‘ite?”

A long finger tilted your chin up, and your mouth quirked at her words, nodding. “Irayo, ma sa’nok.” ( thank you, mother ) She returned your smile, head bowing. Your brows suddenly furrow, peering up at her in question. “How did you know—”

“Tsahik, child. Do not underestimate my role.” She quipped, a flicker of humor dancing in the very eyes your mate inherited. “Besides it is written quite clearly across their faces whenever they see you with the children.”

You laughed, “Fair enough.”

Her hands engulfed Neteyam’s sides, tugging him away from her garments that he found entertainment in fiddling with thanks to Kiri, and lifted the boy up. “Ah, look at you…” she murmured softly. “The eldest, and then there is you, ma Kiri,” The little girl stared up at her grandmother, ears twitching at the sound of her name. “…it would only be fair if you had some sort of company equal to your size, no?” Your cheeks flushed, smiling widely when they both turned towards you, almost impossibly knowing, and ‘Teyam extended his tiny arms your way.

“So you do wish to have children.” She didn’t need an answer for this, of course, for she was also one to know about your greatest wishes, and supported them greatly. Your eager nod was all it took for her smile to widen, bringing Neteyam back down and placed him on your lap while hoisting Kiri up. “Then it is decided.” Her hand cradled the side of your face in a maternal manner, “May Eywa bless you with your heart’s desires, and that she supports them, and you in every way that is possible.”

…………

“Are you serious about this, ma Jake?” Is the first thing uttered by Neytiri the second they are out of your presence. Her voice tried containing firmness, though it lacked from the emotion and perplexity of her husband’s words, from his laid back demeanor when he first said them to the both of you the night before. It wasn’t common for her to not be able to observe his thoughts due to his facial expressions practically tattling them, but now he was awfully silent and too pensive for her likings.

“Jake!”

The tight grasp she gave his arm and the harsh yell of his name blinked him back to reality, turning towards her and is greeted with the mixture of emotions across her precious face; an unsteady balance of sadness and happiness that didn’t know which one to choose, whether for the outcomes or the fact that he’s actually finally approving of you birthing a child.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Her glabrous brows inclined and her eyes broadened in a manner that Jake knew very well meant an injunction to his plastered cluelessness. He unleashed a heavy breath and raised his hand to shove it through his thick locs, “Alright. You got me… I don't know why I said that.”

A smack, hard and full of pain, contacted the skin of his chest and it took everything in him to not subconsciously let out a cuss word in his rather feisty wife’s face. “W-why would you— Neytiri! S-stop smacking me and hear me out—”

“Kehe! ( no! ) You deserve this, how are you going to say you didn’t know why you say what you say, you skxawng!” Her hits met his forearms as they were held out in front of him, stumbling and trying to back away from her. “Okay, baby hold on, just hold on— Neytiri, okay y’know back on Earth there’s a phrase, ‘violence is not the damn answer’ ! Ever heard of it?”

A hiss seethed past her teeth, nose scrunching in distaste. “ Violence seems to be the only way you listen! Or maybe it just makes you more stupid!”

He was now trapped between the forest’s wide trees, he stayed still and her hitting halted for a brief moment, but Jake wasted no time in grabbing ahold of her forearms and switching their positions; a thrashing Neytiri was now pressed against the rich wood of the tree, while he muttered hushed, comforting words in her ear in pleading hopes to try and get her to calm down.

She eventually did, though the familiar stroke of her irritation when they’d first met was there, assisted by other feelings, but that somehow bolded her every pretty feature; confusion to why he’s feigning, anger for rushing into saying things without her consent and hurt for leaving you hanging knowing already how you awaited for them both to bring it up and it tormented her within how she went along with whatever the moron of her husband did.

Cautiously, so very fucking cautiously, he let go of her, one hand falling over her waist while the other gently gripped her chin. “Are we okay now?”

She blinked a few times and watched the confusion and concern riddling Jake’s features. Her lower lip slightly protruded and trembled, and her forehead creased the way it always did when in distress. The trinkets embedded in her braids swayed harshly at the head shake she gave him, and he felt his chest churn at the motion.

“Jake, did you not see how she looked at us?” Neytiri’s heart ached at the flash of your face, throat tightening, and in came the now stinging sensation of tears in her eyes. “She looked hurt, she is hurt because of us,” Her finger rose and punctured firmly into Jake’s chest with every word and tried to ignore the way his face scrunched for a second, “because of how you got her hopes up, because of how I went along with your foolish lies, because of how we both know how much she wanted this! Stupid!”

Wave after wave crashed among Jake’s mind and heart, eyes falling shut as he welcomed the tiny jabs his wife took at him. He understood what she meant, and he understood that she – and you — had every right to be upset with him. He didn’t want to hurt either of you, but he did it for a cause. He didn’t think it’d affect you this much overnight, then again, as his wife said: They both know how much you want this. He knew why she stated what she did, and even he was aware as much as she was of why he stated what he did; he aspires to it as much as you and her do.

The disappointment he felt with himself didn’t help with the abundance of emotions he carried already. He strongly cursed himself aloud for making you feel this way, but there was something more added as to why he did what he did, besides the fact that he was doubtful with your once endangered health.

He swallowed, hard, face easing, “I am sure about this.”

Neytiri’s current finger stabbing his chest came to a stop. “About?”

“She wants a baby,” Jake’s shoulder lifting made Neytiri’s eyes widened. “It’s like we said last night, a baby we’ll have.”

Her lips parted, slowly forming a full ‘o’ that made him want to laugh, and her fingertips raised to cover her mouth with the weight of his words. “Did I hit you too hard?”

This time he didn’t resist the laughter bubbling up his chest, leaning in until their foreheads kissed. “Nah, baby. You hit me enough times to get my act together.” He breathed out, smiling tenderly when her hands hesitated in reaching out for him, curling around his sides, orbs glowing with forgotten tears. “You are serious? No jokes? No delays?”

A wide grin curved the edges of Jake’s lips, his hand shifting to cradle her jaw and the other pulled her close. Neytiri’s breathing hitched at the sound of his chuckle floating through her flickering ears.

His gaze darted between her eyes and lips, not sure which was more worthy of his attention. “No delays, honey. I want this, with the both of you … I didn’t say anything just yet in the morning because I wanted us to give her a little surprise.”

Her head tilted, curious to what he meant. “And that is?” He grinned once more, kissing her softly before gently tugging her off the tree’s surface. “C’mon. Let’s head to the old RDA.”

The glimpse of Jake’s smile reflected from the window in front of him, keeping his eyes on the newborns he’d gotten fond of watching for the past 6 days. Though if someone were to ask him ( that someone being Tommy ) he wouldn’t have admitted the entire reason emitted as to why he kept returning to that particular side of the RDA’s hospital. But to be quite frank, watching them did establish a sense of tranquility within him, an adorable diversion from his main reason to visit.

He’d never been one for patience, but the stubbornness he was born with benefited him well in this case as he strained himself to stay, not lifting a single finger to touch the wheels at his sides. But he was beginning to lose the hope assisting that patience; hope for that young girl’s presence to show up and just let him feel all kinds of things, really good things that he hasn’t felt in a long ass time. While these cute babies slightly entertained him, they couldn’t fill the rest of his mind that had been wholly consumed by her from the moment they first met. During these times of days, they’d be side by side, with her arm occasionally straying near his shoulder while he anticipated it, or he admired the way she transported a tiny, foldable stool that allowed her to sit by him. The usual dread he carried with him vanished with the thought of her, from the rise of dawn to coming nightfall. Even behind his eyelids, once dreamless sleeps were replaced with the bright colors of her appearance.

He exhaled deeply, rolling his wheels back and was about to take a turn to leave until the hallway echoed with steady footsteps followed by a screeching sound of something grinding onto the ground. He grimaced, carefully turning his wheelchair in the resumance of its position in front of the window and there it was, the purpose of his visit; her.

“Leaving so soon, marine?”

She hadn’t glanced or moved towards Jake’s direction as she settled on her white stool but even so, he found himself with his tongue tied and his breath twisted in his gut from hearing her utter only those simple 4 words.

“Well I, uh, was, but I guess I can stick around. Don’t wanna leave you alone.” His chest puffed out and smirked proudly at his ability to form not one but two whole sentences, but he still couldn’t help feeling all warm and gooey inside when the young woman laughed softly at his choice of words. “What? You’re staying by my side now?”

She caught the reflection of his grin, “Sure you can say that.” She hummed and nodded at his words in acknowledgement while he went oblivious to the glee that coursed through her. “So you were waiting on me.” It was more of a statement rather than a question, but he agreed.

“Yeah.” His head slanted slightly up, watching how she looked at those babies with the same expression as always. They stayed quiet for a comforting moment, his deep breath of release being the only thing floating in the air right now.

But while he may have looked as he carried a calm demeanor, inside he was startled when he turned to look at her. He came to terms that he indeed did like her, a lot as a matter of fact, but somehow it seemed like it was more than just likeness.

“So why’re you here?” Curious orbs glanced down at Jake with a spasm of a tiny smile on her mouth.

His brow hitched and gave himself a look over as if the wheelchair he was in apparently didn’t indicate as to why he was in the hospital. She laughed, a sheepish sound he found himself smiling at, “ what I mean is the reason why you’re in that wheelchair.”

He chuckled for a short moment before nodding. “I was a part of the USMC. The United States Marine Corps.” He added, and she threw him a quick glance that said ‘ well no shit Sherlock’ and he smiled briefly. “There were some issues down in Venezuela, and I was one of the many involved that got injured. My spinal cord is messed up … and obviously, ” he patted his thin legs, “these too.”

He saw how her brows knitted together and her former smile turned into a frown. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t like being the cause of that, and he sighed when she said, “did they offer you surgery to fix your paralysis? Isn’t your brother a part of this facility?”

“They did, and he is, but I declined both him and the offer.” His blue eyes caught hers when she glanced at him, letting her gaze linger for a few seconds that felt like eternity for him. He detected a strange strike of something in her pretty irises, something that concerned him until she tore away from him. “ It's been six days since we’ve met. Six days you’ve been coming over here, and not once did you ask me why am I here.”

Jake’s brows rose to his hairline, surprised by the sudden shift of topic but didn’t mind it whatsoever. “Why are you here?” He didn’t mean for it to come off as blunt or disrespectful, but blunt was his voice of nature. He quickly looked at her, not sure if she had caught onto it or not. The thought of why she was here never really crossed his head, he only mimicked the question out of both confusion and hopes to change the topic.

“ I have a weak heart.”

Jake didn’t understand the meaning behind her words. Sure, he wasn’t exactly an expert of human anatomy, hell he could barely comprehend the damage done to his own body. How can she have a weak heart if here she was, standing tall and beaming as if a miracle had occurred right before her very eyes, speaking to him as if normalcy had happened through their lives? “Huh?”

“I don’t have a strong heart, Jake. The world’s air isn’t clean enough for my system, so this hospital is the next best thing for my health. So because of this ‘poor’ heart, I can’t do the things I really, really want. I thought you maybe wanted to know, but never asked just to not come off as nosy.”

“Wait, what? I don’t mean to come off that way–”

She chuckled softly at his dubious expression only for it to grow. Yeah, he noticed the IV pole she tended to have attached with her in every corner she turned, but it never occurred to him to ask her or his brother, which now that he thought of it, he did have the chance to, but that never was his main focus. He’d been so captivated by the way she carried herself and how she had managed to slither her way within his veins.

“If I had the chance to somehow fix the way my heart works, I’d take it.” She admitted, a soft utterance he would’ve found relief in if it hadn’t been for the true translation of her words; “If I was in your place, I’d take that chance.” which unveiled the main translation, “Take the chance you’ve been given, because there’s others who don’t ever receive it.”

“If that heart of yours is so weak, how come you’re able to talk with a lot of meaning?”

Her sudden direct turn made him smirk softly, capturing his gaze for a much longer time than these past 6 days. He let himself admire her full face, noticing how she, too, lost herself in the blue swirls of his eyes, as if searching for something within them. He didn’t plan to ask such a question, but the way she looked at him surged a positive thrill through him. Her eyes diverted from his for a second, face flushing. “ My heart likes to be heard, I guess. It’s the seat of our emotions, isn’t it? Emotions should be heard.”

His smirk morphed into a full on grin now. “See, there it is again. You wanna know what I hear when you speak that heart of yours?”

Her head sloped to the side in intrigue, and it took all his upper strength to not lose his words. “An angel. A very pretty one with a clear voice.” he pointed out, and leaned his upper body closer to hers. “So imma tell you this. I’ll accept this surgery because of this angel, but on one condition.”

His pointer finger stuck out in front of his face and was visibly pleased at the way her twinkling eyes darted between his and the finger between them. “And what’s that?” she breathed out.

The digit that was currently extended in the air was accompanied by the others, and with the permission her eyes gave him, he allowed them to brush across the skin of her cheek. Jake’s grin waived into much gentle one when she leaned into his touch, and his voice was barely above whisper. “That you stop talking so down on that angel’s heart. How can you say it’s weak when her words come from there, sounding so smart and pretty?”

She chewed on her lower lip, corners of her mouth curving upward at the honesty coloring his face. “I think I wanna marry you, Marine.”

“You’d spend your life attached to a wheelchair instead of me, angel.” He chortled while cupping her cheek and enjoyed the way those eyes looked at him, mirroring his own enamorment.

1 week. 1 week, 5 days, and 9 hours had passed ensuing the conversation between Jake, Neytiri, and you about continuing a family, and you getting the Tsahik’s eternal blessing.

Days exuded into scorching afternoons into brilliant nights, and your body sizzled with the passing of time in irritation the longer they proceeded being oblivious to your clear frustrations. Tonight though, you’d decided you’d had enough of the waiting, and enough of this promise that forever remained empty. The foreseeable subject with your mates would be one that manufactured outcomes.

You, with the admirable help of your mother-in-law, prepared their favorite meals; Jake had taken a liking to teylu assisted with vegetables, though if you were to be frank it was like feeding a child, how he picked apart the sweet grub from the vegetables only for Neytiri and you to scold him; while Neytiri was the one who was never critical of what she ate, as long as it was Na’vi’s traditional foods and made with attentiveness, she was more than willing to consume it. Prepping meals for them was one of the many things they admired from you, given their engaged schedule, and making something extra came in handy when you wanted a little something from them. It didn’t fail you before, so why should it tonight?

“Tell us about your day, txe’lan. Are you alright?” Neytiri queried when she took notice of the anxious movement your fingers would occasionally stray to the accessories decorating your collarbones. Seeing this, she reached over, delicately lacing her fingers with yours and gave a small squeeze. She picked up a deep liking to the way your fingers were adorned with multiple silver rings, always toying with them in wonder.

There was a specific one she enjoyed to look at, and it was the one around your ring finger, little fragments of trinkets embedded and shaped into a pair of wings, and the story of how you had gotten it always made her smile softly while Jake would blow out into a full on grin, knowing they were the ones behind the story; sort of like an engagement ring. It was a lovable act from them both, the two of the most lovable mates you could ever ask for.

Trying to sustain a firm demeanor was resulting to be an impracticable goal the longer your gaze stayed fixated on your locked hands, smiling very briefly at how her three fingers wrapped around yours, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your skin. Your smile became inevitable when Jake came into your view, sitting next to Neytiri with Neteyam and Kiri bouncing happily on his lap while both took turns curiously tugging on their father’s dark locs, Neteyam mostly, and very curiously, tapping the accessories Jake had around the middle of his neck. “Hey, watch it,” he playfully scolded, then returned his gaze to you. “Yeah, how was your day, angel? Did these two gremlins give you any trouble?”

Your mouth curled before taking a small and final bite of your food. “It was nice. Kiri was curious, as always, grabbing everything, relentless as usual. Right, beautiful girl?” Her round eyes crinkled in the way her birth mother’s would when she’d smile, and you chuckled softly before turning to the other. “‘Teyam was very good and quiet, right, my little warrior?” He reflected your wide smile, and it took everything in you to not squeal in excitement at how his smile resembled his mama Neytiri’s.

“Thought I was your warrior.” Jake frowned at you, of course he did. You could tell by his tone of voice, by the gruff tone he implied.

You let your eyes flicker up at him, and inside you were now debating whether or not Neteyam looked more like his father or mother by the way his wide eyes looked up at him and mimicked Jake’s pout, Kiri stretching out a tiny fist and pounded Jake’s cheek. Neytiri chuckled, fingers covering her mouth while you squirmed in resistance, only to break in defeat when you caught a glimpse of her beautiful smile. One that crinkled her bright irises, the creases slightly prominent due to her happiness.

“You’re my protector,” you corrected, and he hummed with an arched brow. “Doesn’t that indicate a warrior too?” His stare bounced between you and Neytiri, and you chuckled. “Neytiri is my other warrior, my breathtaking warrior,” you cheeked, laughing when both their expressions were complete opposites from the other. Hers beamed and his frowned. “hey that’s not fair, I can be breathtaking for you—”

“But you are not,” Neytiri chirped, tease edged in her voice as she smirked at the small glare he gave her before looking back at you. “So I’m not breathtaking?” Neytiri’s chuckle tugged one out of you and you couldn’t help but chew on your lip when you looked at Jake. Honed gaze, current frowning mouth tilting slightly up when he realized your expression, and gosh he was beautiful. ‘Stupidly beautiful’, Neytiri had once commented, and he had taken that as a strong complement minus the stupid. Of course he was breathtaking, he himself knew this from the way your face screamed how unfairly gorgeous he was.

“You’re staring, babygirl.”

You glanced down with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I know.” His smile increased into a big grin as he laughed along with Neytiri until his cut into a grunt of pain when Kiri tugged harder onto his hair. “ Girl, calm your ass down—ow!”

“Do not say those things around babies, skxawng!”

The scene before you flooded your brain with the image of them with an additional child. Little girl, maybe little boy, who shared the same pure mischief as their older sister and silent wonder of the older brother, both containing that happiness that your mates both carried in this moment, squealing, giggling, running across your home’s grounds as Jake chased them, sitting between Neytiri’s legs as she styled their hair, staring up at their parents in wonder while lying between you three in your large hammock, laughing with every lame joke Jake would make while they snuggled into each other’s warmth. They were already wonderful parents given the weeks, almost 4 months since Neteyam’s and Kiri’s birth. They could at least handle one more, given the love and patience they had with the babies, with each other, with you.

“So… speaking of babies,”

Neytiri’s hold on you tightened and you couldn’t decide if whether the twitch spasming the corners of her lips was to contain its act of lifting or falling, while Jake made what could be a grunt in the back of his throat, rising to his feet while cooing whatever talk he could to his kids. “We weren’t really speaking about babies? It started with Neytiri asking about your day, then we drifted to breathtaking and how I am indeed that.”

“I’m not playing, Jake.” You henced, but it seems he didn’t get the message by the mirth in his irises. “Me too!”

“Jake.” Your other lover warned, a stern look when the two made eye contact. Your brow rose at the silence they shared, a sigh leaving him before looking back at you, but the amusement still lied in his face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of defeat at how this conversation has started, but gratefully you had Neytiri by your side and the both of you knew very well he always used his sense of humor to shift the subject in a whole other direction. You sensed that Neytiri was about to tell him something more, but the firm clench of your fingers around hers halted her from doing so.

“You don’t remember what we were talking about the other night? What you said so suddenly to Neytiri and I?”

His stare tilted to the sky, this time not fighting off Kiri pulling to his hair as he hummed as if in thought. “We talk every night, and y’know me and my mouth say whatever, so I think one of you should remind me.” Vexation flared into you, rolling your eyes towards Neytiri’s direction, expecting to see her with the same expression you carried only for your annoyance to increase and perplexity assist it from her too bright smile.

Her expression only seemed to have grown when you ripped away your touch from her and stood up. A sigh of exasperation left your lips already comprehending the fact that they were up to something. “You two, I don’t have time for games. Jake, for once, no jokes and Neytiri, please just tell me what’s going on!” You practically stomped your way towards Jake and took Kiri from him, oblivious to the confused babble leaving the baby from losing contact with her dad’s odd hair, while he watched you in amusement when you returned for Neteyam after setting her down in a handmade cradle. She took interest in playing with the material, cooing at it cutely.

Neytiri would be lying if she said this wasn’t at least fun to watch, how riled up you became, but she also wanted Jake to speed up whatever it is he’s doing so they can finally get on with it. “Neytiri, darling, I kinda remember having a talk with y'all. But then again, between our girl making all those pretty sounds and us talking, it’s kind of a blur, don’t ya think, baby?” There was that shit eating smirk stretched across his face, and Neytiri threw him a look of warning when you silently walked away from them with Neteyam in your arms.

You kneeled down to place him beside his sister, a small toy Jake crafted for his baby boy before his birth being the focus of Neteyam’s entertainment as you stood up, gazing down at them with a small smile. The opening tone in Jake’s voice let you know there was more to be added, and it would be a lie to say you weren't curious about where they planned to drive this conversation. But you didn’t look at them, not when you were trying to control your emotions by staring at two of the four sources of your tranquility, because the other two happen to be the ignition of that irritation.

The sound of clinking beads swayed in the air, and just when you were about to turn you felt the tall presence lumbering behind you. You couldn’t help huffing out a chuckle when that presence came down to crouch behind you, the length of two gentle arms wrapped around your torso. You looked down to those familiar arms, recognizing they belonged to Neytiri before even looking at them. Your eyes traced the way three of her fingers twined across your bare stomach, how her palms pushed very lightly into your flesh, and you exhaled. Tension had entangled you up way before she had even touched you, all because of a ceaseless conversation that never gave you anything in favor, but you couldn’t resist mollifying the second your wife touched you — because of course, who would not mollify for Neytiri?

“Neytiri.”

“I remember well what we talked about,” A soft kiss met the angle of your jawline, soon moving down and stopped just right below your necklace before placing her chin over your shoulder, and that unique, earthy smell that was solely her consumed your inhales. “It is unlikely for our Jake to bring up more…babies, or am I wrong, tiyawn?”

“Neytiri.”

Stern was more of a whine in your voice, and when she chuckled, it jittered through you to the point where you felt it to your bones, practically vibrating every ounce of your frustration away. “I know he can be…what you say a pain in the ass, but he is only teasing.”

“Yeah angel,” another voice chirped into the conversation, larger palms sliding just right above Neytiri’s. “You really think I’m capable of forgetting about our important talk?”

“No but you’re capable of changing the subject while Neytiri just stays quiet, and in my opinion that’s even more frustrating than if you forget.”

“Forgive me, my beautiful girl,” Neytiri voiced, and her soft yearn indicated she truly was sorry for her actions. “But, I had reason to do it.”

The hum Jake slurred out practically yelled he had that stupid grin on his face. “If I’ve been changing it and Tiri’s been quiet, you think we would’ve stopped by to visit Norm and the other geeks and made arrangements for next week?”

Your eyes turned big and rounder than they usually were when you swiveled in Neytiri’s arms to look at them, face inches away from hers while Jake stood knelt beside her. “I’m sorry— you two did what?”

“Ya heard me, angel .” Jake carried a wide, prideful smile — Neytiri’s more anticipating your reaction as her tail swished behind her, and it only widened with every passing second your eyes darted between the two, not knowing what to say just yet. When everything clicked, and you couldn’t contain reaching over towards Jake and smacking him hard across the head while lightly tugging one of Neytiri’s braids.

“Ow! What the actual fu—” Two smacks, one accompanied by Neytiri, met his chest this time when Neteyam’s big eyes looked at his father, though Kiri seemed unfazed.

“The first was for making me think you lied,” You looked at Neytiri, “That was for not saying anything,” then back at Jake, “and the other was for almost dropping an f bomb on your kids.”

“Our kids are too young to process what the f word really means— but okay I get what you’re saying …”

“ Our intention are never to hurt you, txe’lan. When have we ever lied?” Neytiri murmured, pulling you back into her embrace while Jake tried soothing the pain of his head and chest. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at his overreacted tactics, but leaned into your wife, “Never…I think.”

Her thumb and pointer finger gently grabbed ahold of your chin and tilted your head up to meet her gaze. Her tone was softer, steady and hushed the way it always did when speaking only to you. “Then why lie now?”

“We haven’t talked about this in almost over a week and I just didn’t want to push you into something you don’t want.” Delicate as a whisper were your words; each syllable trembling from your lips, hesitant and uncertain as if afraid to be heard. With a slight bow of your head, you almost surrendered to your timidity but your wife was not fond of it at this moment, elevating your chin up once more, savoring the pure beauty you conveyed and the way your lower lip curled between your teeth.

“We have told you; your desires are our desires. Again, forgive me for keeping quiet. I just …” her forehead creased, mouth parted slightly as she tried searching for the correct words. “I didn’t know how to bring it up…how to help give you what you wish. It was wrong to do this without you but…”

“I asked her not to because we wanted this to be a surprise,” he smiled, palm enveloping your cheek before that mischief snuck its way across his face. “Besides, we also wanted to see how long it would take you to crack,”

“I told you, ma Jake. She is better than you expect.” Neytiri grinned, and this time you couldn’t contain your own smile. Jake peered down at the kids and hummed, causing you and Neytiri to looked down as well only to see their eyes fluttered shut, curling into one another as their little mouths parted as soft exhales and inhales rose from their chubby bodies.

“So now that they’re asleep…”

You squealed when he roughly pulled you out of Neytiri’s grasp, Neytiri about to protest until he too lifted her in his arms. “Jake!”

“Shh, don’t wanna wake the babies up,” His long legs carried him to your large hammock with ease. He carefully placed the two of you down, grinning widely. A deep kiss met Neytiri’s mouth, one following yours afterwards. “Let’s try and get one of those things in you, yeah?”

You giggled breathily against Neytiri’s mouth, knowing Jake’s hungry gaze was watching his wives’ every movement right before him as her fingers carefully but so adeptly took off the Na’vi clothing you wore, taking advantage of brushing her touch quite long enough to burn your skin. “Don’t think it works that way with all three of us–”

He smirked deviously, crawling over the both of you. “Let’s test that out, shall we?”

Being one to live as a wheelchair user may perhaps be one of the hardest things Jake had ever experienced. Though what might be worse than becoming a wheelchair user is living as one. Mentally and physically exhausting he cultivated with each passing second of every day, things he never thought to upkeep with his disabled body. It didn’t surprise him, how the current world reacted to what he’d been through and deemed it as if it wasn't something grand. While days were torturous, he’d slowly adjusted to his new way of surviving. It became ... a tad bit easier, though while others weren’t the least caring for his state, they did underestimate his capabilities, his strength, his intelligence and took him for “the man with chicken legs.”

“Your brother represented a significant investment. We’d like to talk to you about taking over his contract, and since your genome was identical to his, you could step into his shoes … so to speak. It’d be a fresh start in a new world. You could do something important. You can make a difference.”

So when the unforeseen moment that he had discovered his twin brother’s passing led him through the Avatar program in return of something highly valued for his beneficence, he wasted no second in consenting to his now late brother’s place.

He had agreed to get surgery, though the process somehow was a bit too long since he had declined at first, and Tommy had said something about handling a few issues before continuing with his surgery, and after the 11 days passed, he was released to go home which perplexed him. That was until learning the cause of his brother’s death, of what were the issues delaying his surgery; opponents in the same field had it out for him, even for the paper in his wallet.

“We’ll provide everything you need for this trip, now go big your goodbyes, go home, gather the few things you’d like to take,” they had told him, “though I doubt you’ll need it these next 5 years.”

He doubted he had anything he’d like to take, there’s not much for him to value and take or had someone to bid goodbyes to. Everyone he knew had parted from his life, chipping away the smallest of pieces that formed some sort of comforting fortress in him, especially her. He hadn’t heard a thing about the girl he adored in weeks. He visited her of course, for many many months; he’d stay long hours in her room, both laid and tightly nuzzled in her hospital bed while talking, but one day she was nowhere to be seen, and no one would give him information as to what had happened to her, if she was out of the hospital. The last thing he heard was that she had another destination to go towards, and that was all yet not enough. So why not take his brother’s place and start anew as they say? He did though, gather a small luggage, received a well and quick haircut, and took his leave.

Jake’s fingers loosely curled around the wheels on each of his sides, strolling between the familiar stark white hallways of the hospital he once had been a patient in to visit to give his form a brief examination and quick feedback in hopes for him to take this procedure to Pandora. And maybe, just maybe, he’d catch a glimpse of the angel he terribly missed and needed at this time.

As he went through the building, he recalled his brother being proud to be a part of this facility, of something grand and meaningful, unyielding passion he possessed to help everyone within this building. “A place to help people with disabilities, small and big. I can be a part of that help, Jake. I can find solutions, maybe even find one that brings this damn earth back to life.” Tommy had told him with the reflection of his exact smile, a small chuckle rising from Jake and acknowledged everything else being said, about seeking solutions to issues that collide on this planet, about traveling light years to some distant moon that could carry them. Ironic to become the brother with the disabilities and now being the one going light years away, he thought.

Typically, visits — checkups — to the hospital were ones he only looked forward to ending as soon as they started, an activity he dreaded in doing so for the very reason that he simply doesn’t want to be sitting in a room with some doctor repeating the constant news as the previous visit: “you’re subjected to this condition for the rest of your life”, “it seems you aren’t progressing anytime soon”, “well you won’t have to worry about a random leg cramp anymore, right?” But today, surprisingly, he looked forward to this checkup. Sure, they’d repeat the same thing of his condition, but this time he had hoped for an addition to those words.

A man, dressed in a dark suit, walked his way. Jake recognized him as one of the guys who’d informed him of his brother’s deaf, seeing a smile pursing his mouth. “Seems to me you’re rather thrilled for this than the last time I’d seen you.”

An exhale left Jake’s nostrils, his shoulder lifting. “Just wait ‘till you see me stand and dance in excitement.”

The man, unknown of his name, sighed at the dry humor, head motioning to the hallway that leads Jake to his appointment. “I don’t think most people here will take your exciting miracle too kindly, especially considering some of them are most likely not able to recover or make it. You’re here to participate in making a difference, Sully. We aren’t here for sarcasm.”

Jake resisted from rolling his eyes as he strolled a bit further ahead of him. “Thought I could at least have fun with this. I ain’t mean it to offend anyone, all I mean is I am looking forward to this.”

The man didn’t know whether to take Jake’s tone as sarcasm or solemnity, simply nodding when he peered a glance over his shoulder as if to say, ‘well, you coming or not?’

After an hour of being in a room, having an MRI and CT scan, then with people from the RDA, doctors, and the suited man ( the news were as Jake predicted — the same, additionally with the other news that he can make the long trip and it won’t affect him whatsoever ), Jake was led through a different hall he hadn’t seen the last he’d been there, leading him to his long flight. He disregarded the peculiar glances hurled his way, a second nature action he’d grown accustomed in doing after weeks tolerating his faith in a wheelchair.

He was surprised to see how many people — more men than women — surged the place, how lengthy the lines were, the employees assisting, checking in, getting everything in order and setting for those who were leaving to be prepared. A few men’s families were present, bidding their goodbyes and farewells. He recognized the fear, the longing hope of safety to be with their parting member, the nerves racketing through while the men tried keeping a steady posture, a neutral tone. He sympathized for them, but there was no doubt that he thought they should feel fortunate to have someone there with them.

There was still quite some time until they attended him, so he took a chance in taking one more stop before he left this planet; the infantry ward. Memories from weeks ago, maybe even a month or so flooded his brain constantly, each filled with the thought of her, Y/N L/N. Of all the randomest topics she seemed to have come up with. Now, even when he sees a baby he can’t help but picture how excited she’d be, how warm her face would turn, how she’d rant on and on about wanting to bore one. Even now as the window before him revealed those newborns, he still illustrates the image of her right beside him, staring at them, then gifting him with those eyes before parting them back to those babies.

The memory of her perhaps was the only thing keeping him from going back into a dark place in his life, from wasting himself nonstop and attending bars that don’t appreciate his presence, let alone acknowledge him. He missed her, missed having that good sensation that only increased when with her. He at least wanted a moment, a chance to say goodbye, to wish her the best. Maybe to have some motive…to stay. Anywhere near her, he’d stay.

That wishful hope for her to come through the halls in all her divine beauty seemed to slip through his fingers as he waited, as he tried grasping for patience. But it only decreased and disintegrated into exasperation, inhaling a deep breath before turning.

“Leaving so soon, marine?”

His head snapped towards the voice, blue eyes widened at the sight of her practically beaming at him. He looked her over, rebreathing that neverending beauty, taking in how she was no longer in a gown, how her IV pole was no longer in her hold. Instead she was in formal wear, and she held a bag similar to his, and that’s when it clicked where your destination was. His heart smacked harshly against his ribcage as she sauntered his way, chewing on her lower lip.

“Well I was, but I guess I can stick around. Don’t wanna leave you alone.” he repeated, smiling up at her as he led himself towards her. There was that giggle that made him feel all kinds of things, and he would’ve scoffed at the way she knelt down to meet him face to face if it wasn’t for him refreshening his memory of that pretty face. “What? You’re staying by my side now?”

He grinned, wrapping a palm around the side of her neck. “Damn right I am.”

His kiss was a great combination of gentleness but desperation, sweet but harsh, yearning but commanding. He didn’t once let her go, if anything he raised his other hand and grasped her face while her hands wrapped around his forearms, trying to keep up with his pace. “You’re leaving.” she breathed against his mouth, and he only smiled while fluttering his eyes open. “So are you, angel.” she exhaled, almost overwhelmed at the sound of the nickname, swollen lips agape near the corner of his own, “In a few. How about you?”

“In a few as well…” his murmur ghosted her skin, chuckling when her fingers skimmed across his scalp in a curious manner, thumbs tracing his temples. “That’s the reason for this new look?”

“Maybe…I also didn’t want to keep looking like Tommy. Like it?”

“I love it…” she hummed before pulling away, a softness falling upon her when he kept his hold on her face. “I heard what happened…Are you okay?” He only shrugged, honed gaze locked on hers. “I’ve been alright…Y’know, this might sound horrible but,” he tugged her close until his mouth was brushing hers, inhaling and letting that floral mist consume his atmosphere. “What was worse than losing Tommy was that I wasn’t by your side at all…and I missed you.”

Her eyes shimmered at his words, though trying to contain her smile. “That does sound terrible, but I missed you too, Jake.” He liked the way his name fell from her lips, how it ignited that fire he felt so wildly with her. Though he did have a sudden intrigue and deep concern. “They’re letting you go with your condition?”

She bobbed her head, “They say that maybe there’s some kind of cure up there…and me being a researcher in this sort of field, I can find out more about it.” her brow rose, eyes widening in a way that made Jake think of her adorable. “I’m assuming you’re going for Tommy?”

“Same DNA, twins, must take his place, maybe I’ll get my legs back…” he sighed. “Something like that.” She hummed, drawing him back in with a soft smile. “Well…at least we’ll get to be together, no?”

His cheek hoisted, oceanic eyes consuming her wholly when he looked between her lips and eyes. “Hell, yeah.” The intimate moment had been cut short, however, when an announcement suddenly echoed through the halls from the speakers up on the ceiling, “Jake Sully, brother of Tom Sully. Y/N L/N. Please appear where you should be for your departure immediately.”

“I’m gonna miss these little ones…” Her palm rose to the glass, lingering there for a moment as a baby’s tiny eyes fluttered open, a soft coo leaving their little ‘o’ shaped mouth. Jake could only smile and nod, “I’ll get you one of them soon.” he jested, and her head tilted his way with a spark in her eyes he was familiar with, but both said nothing afterwards.

The short but entire way to their designated area, they kept close, and it looked entirely odd yet wholesome to others, the way she kept her hand on his shoulder the entire time, the way he glanced up at her with the biggest smile there was for the reason being he had someone not only there but leaving with him as well. Any trace of distress disappeared when he was about to be put in cryptonic sleep, glancing one more time at her only to see she’d already been looking at him with a soft grin.

“See you in five years, marine.”

…………

The RDA decreased from view as Trudy Charon, a transport pilot working for the RDA itself, designated her Samson rotorcraft with a proud sense swarming her. Within the craft was Dr. Grace Augustine, her right hand and xenoanthropologist, Norm Spellman, former marine, Jake Sully, and wondrous researcher Y/N L/N.

“All right you three, we need to be careful with this,” Grace, mind already transferred to her avatar body, turned Y/N’s way as she was seated between Norm and Jake who’d also been resettled in their avatar bodies. “especially you, Y/N. You have no avatar, and Pandora’s forest is no place for a mere human being, alright?”

Her chin jutted up and down twice, a smile of glee enchanting her delicate complexion beneath the exomask. Jake could only stare at her with adoration coloring his newly featured amber eyes. He could feel each ounce of thrill bouncing off her being and into his system. He knew that apart from coming to search for some cure, being in Pandora was one of her greatest wishes to grant, and he wasn’t going to ruin this for her whatsoever. Especially with her condition. Right there in that moment, he only wished to enjoy it with her. And of course, protect her because as Grace said, she has no avatar.

There hadn’t been enough time to prepare one for her, and the reason for that greatly included the state of her immune system, her well-being. Grace had mentioned that she needed to run more tests, check if the atmosphere of Pandora would either affect her avatar along with her human body or if she’d be safe. It benefited him with the fact that he had to stay as close as possible to her, though he did have some doubts about Y/N being out in the open in Pandora. As mentioned, her complexion had been very delicate, sparkling eyes gaining a drain to them despite the happiness she expressed. Thanks to his newfound senses, he could hear the gentle thumps of her heartbeat, feel the warmth that radiated endlessly from her body, feel the very light quivers that ached through her due to her health.

His hand, freakishly blue and larger than his normal size, carefully, so very carefully captured her much tinier hand, interlacing his long fingers between hers. Her eyes, currently gazing out at Pandora’s exquisite views, instantly turned towards his, only to see he was already staring at her.

His incisors somehow intensified the charisma of his soft grin, keeping those golden depths on each of her movements. She tracked down the stroke of concern on his lips, the flicker of uneasiness within them, and offered him a much brighter and assuring smile as if to say, ‘I’m okay, really’. She let her eyes stray to their clasped hands, entranced with the way his deep azure tones clashed beautifully with her neutral ones. Every ounce of second thoughts or anxious feelings ceased from existence for she only felt him; the warmth of his wondrously large palm, the laxness of his grip.

She was sure she was in good hands, for the moment Y/N had arrived and made Grace’s acquaintance she was quick to put up rules for her safety, giving her a proper warning to take good care of her health and that her usual check-ups back on earth would still take place in Pandora within the RDA. And Norm, well he respected the researcher given she was young and had great enthusiasm for the world’s rare beauty. Trudy had been informed to take precaution and keep a close eye on the young woman, and she seemed to get along great with her but none of them beat Jake in that apartment. He was a steady balance of overprotective and letting his girl enjoy herself, though she had a vague idea of how he’d act in this planet now that he has regained movement of his legs, recalling how excited he’d been that he was reckless when barging into the lab and lifted Y/N in his arms, ignoring the protests of all the others, especially Grace.

“C’mere, lemme hold you closer so you can see,” Jake murmured, putting his weapon down and lifted Y/N onto his lap before she could even protest. A breathless ‘woah’ fell from her lips at the view of wide stretched and tall trees, eyes falling to the ground only to see a group of ginormous and rare creatures.

“Easy, Jake,” Trudy called from over her shoulder, “If you think it’s high for you tall ones, think how high it is for her.”

“Marine, be careful with her! Don’t drop her, damn it!” Grace scolded, and Y/N chuckled at the way Jake waved her off but tightened his hold around her midsection while nuzzling his jawbone into her now tangled hair thanks to the strong wind.

“I got her, doc. Don’t tell me how to protect her.”

…………

Adoration was one of the grandest things Neytiri felt for her home; a habitat that flourished with the wonders of Eywa, arrayed in which greeneries and distinct creatures connect to each other, rely on one another for durability, gifting everyone within Pandora with a new, brilliant day.

Grateful she was to be apart of such environment, proud to hold and be able to carry out the Omaticayan’s rich traditions, especially carrying the role of becoming the clan’s future Tsahik. In the meantime, tsakarem she took part in and being a natural-like warrior, exploring within the rainforests.

Though while she sauntered through and over the wide, long branches, unfamiliar distressed voices were heard, and Neytiri’s curiosity peaked and led her towards it.

Beneath the thick branches and lengths of the green fronds wandered two figures; one who shared the similar species as her though not entirely, seeing how he’s dressed in sky demon wear and his long limbs moved with inelegance, caution against her home, an avatar, lumbering in an almost protective stance over a much smaller body. Another sky demon, female, and apparently average in height for their species, she recalled, watching as she uttered a small remark towards the avatar as they walked deeper into the forest.

Amber irises gleamed between the branches, the pair belonging to Neytiri grew piqued and questioned why two humans here, interfering in Pandora’s nature, in her home. They were misplaced, lost, and could end up tumbling in the grasp of death without proper guidance. She could let that happen, or perhaps she could take matters into her own hands, by positioning her bow and arrow towards them, gaze sharp.

She halted, however, caused by the sounds the male avatar did, a pinch of distress between his brows. Her head turned, unaware of where the female had gone until she spotted her in his arms, eyes fluttering shut behind the mask she wore.

“Y/N, c’mon angel, wake up! We gotta head back, I need you with me, now.”

Her eyes narrowed and flickered between the unconscious body and him, something remorseful twisting in her chest but she tried shaking it away by inhaling deeply, drawing her bow and arrow back once more, at him.

Just when she was about to release it, a woodsprite, known as atokirina to the Na’vi, floated her way, the mystical creature landing on her bow. It astonished the young warrior, soon becoming perplexed until realization weighed upon her. Just testing the waters, the point of her arrow tilted the human’s way, and the woodsprite didn’t move from its spot. Not until she set her weapon down, resisting her questions and giving into whatever Eywa desired.

She didn’t leave just yet though, if anything she kept an attentive eye on the both of them, debating on whether or not to help the male, and felt alert when he reached for the breathing mask over her face and pulled it off in a panicking act, mouth pressing, breathing into hers very carefully. She hissed sharply at his stupidity, and just as she was about to crawl out of her hiding spot, the woman …Y/N had awoken.

“W-what…happened?” Jake’s shoulder’s squared straight along with Neytiri’s, one looking at Y/N with an incredulous expression while the other was waiting for her to collapse any second.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?” She reached for her bare cheek, brows knitting as she felt around her skin for anything while Jake’s eyes remained wide, waiting for her to take notice of something that was currently missing. “Jake, stop staring like that! You’re scaring — oh my gosh where is my mask?!”

She observed the interaction between the two, tail swaying at the way he had crouched down to her height, gently cradled her close, an amalgam of sentiments resembling horrified and shocked and extremely confused, while he repeated the same questions if she was alright, if she felt well enough to walk, if he had to carry her he would.

“Grace is gonna kill me if she finds out i let anything happen to you.” Her ear twitched at both the mention of her former mentor and the pitch of tone he used, crouching away from eyesight. “Jake, relax. Look at me, I’m fine! Nothing’s wrong, alright? Sure, I can…somehow breathe out here but I'm alive!” Hands, dainty and tiny in Neytiri’s perspective, reaching to practically mush his face between them, a brilliant smile rested upon the human’s features.

“She’s gonna lose her shit when she hears this! I tried being all heroic– coulda’ killed you.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, y’know?”

He dragged out a hum, his hold careful enough to keep her close. “A big one, now aren’t I?” There was an odd feeling blooming in Neytiri’ body at the way they smiled at each other. While his was broad, goofy, irritatingly likable and his rather small eyes gazed at the girl in endearment, hers was pure, lovely, bright. Intrigue has already sunk its claws deep into Neytiri’s soul at why, out of everyone, did Eywa choose to let them live, and why is it that the girl had collapsed, and why is it that the two before her have some sort of bond she subconsciously felt captivated towards?

That intrigue had spiraled tenfold throughout the day as she watched and followed, precaution assisting her in case the idiot almost risked the girl’s life especially when the forest was unknown and dangerous to them both — well, her more, of course, seeing as he was too stubborn for Pandora’s dangers, though Neytiri was surprised at how well Y/N reacted to everything, ushering the avatar to respect and keep quiet. Sky demons didn’t produce that type of awareness of care for Pandora anymore, or so she thought, and witnessing one of them carry that sprouted a sense of admiration within the tsakarem. She found herself pursuing a small amused smirk at them both, holding back laughter and would scoff or roll her eyes when one nearly tripped or made teasing, incredibly lame remarks ( the male, of course.)

When nighttime set upon Pandora, however, Neytiri’s curiosity disappeared and became alert when a group of nantags surrounded them. “Do not react harshly.” she muttered under her breath, back straightening to have a better look at the scene before her. Of course, it was hallucinating of her to think either of them could hear her, because the lanky avatar had created a flame, trying — and failing — to shield the small person with his body as he yelled at the small creatures, pointing the fire at them in case they launched themselves at her. Instead, they ran his way and he wasted no time striking them with the stick, grunting with the action.

“J-jake!” She was left in the open, exposed for attack when he had fallen over. The fire had been knocked out of his hands and right in front of her, illuminating the fear that streaked her face. Just as one of them found an opening towards the human, Neytiri nearly came out of her spot until the woman tried grabbing ahold of the long, rather heavy for her size stick.

“C’mon, c’mon,” She found an easy grip, fully lashing it in front of her in hopes to scare the nantags away. But the length of the bludgeon outweighed her, losing balance and fell to the ground.

Neytiri finally crept out of the shadows, muttering the words, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” at the so-called Jake when he stabbed a nantag. She jumped right between the human and two nantags, eyes narrowed and canines bared before she turned to Y/N. “Hand me that, tawtute” ( human ) the Na’vi spoke, watching the girl’s round eyes broadened, the fire’s flare enhancing their color as she looked up at the graceful, tall woman.

She forcefully tried to regard the human with contempt only for the corners of Neytiri’s mouth to fight against lifting at the wonder in her face, how she immediately did as she was ordered to. She ripped her eyes away from her, wincing at the refulgence the flame radiated before casting it into the nearest river before glowering at the animals and reaching for her bow.

The rest was an adrenaline blur, careful not to hurt the human or the avatar as she aimed an arrow towards a viperwolf that lunged their way. 3 had been needlessly killed by her, and remorse gutted her deep at her actions. Her eyes fluttered as she stabbed near the wound of one, its whimpers faint but frequent. “Oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä tsmukan. Hu nawma sa'nok tivul ngeyä tirea. Oeru txoa livu.” With one clean tug, the arrow had been removed, and a shallow breath rose from her chest when she approached another viperwolf.

Was this the purpose for Eywa to let them live? To kill her creatures?

“Where’s our fire?” She heard him inquire in a ridiculously loud voice. “She, uh, sorta put it out, but look! We don’t need it..woah.” Neytiri’s head lifted, her line of vision being greeted with the amazement that gleamed both their faces. His wide eyes were lifted to the fluorescence of the branches and wide and myriad shaped leaves while hers followed the outlines of the many glowing plants, a smile ghosting her features.

A sigh heaved out of Neytiri, trying to resume her focus on the squirming creature, “Oeru txoa livu,”

“Look, I know you, uh, probably don’t understand this, but uh—“

“ma oeyä tsmukan. Hu nawma sa'nok tivul ngeyä tirea,”

“…thank you.”

“Oeru txoa livu.”

“That was pretty impressive,” Jake uttered, the lopsided smile she thought to be stupid but charming resided on his face while he crouched a few feet away from her, and the human had only stayed quiet, inspecting Neytiri’s movements curiously with a tiny smile. She has a clear view of both features, had their full attention and there it was again; that magnetic tug, that rare thrill pulsing through her, only this time much stronger now that they were staring at her attentively.

Warmth blossomed in her chest when her gaze collided with his, and as much as she wanted to refuse ripping away from the two, she fully stood up and took a turn to leave. “H-hey wait a second!”

“Jake, no—”

“C’mon, maybe she can help us.”

The young warrior inhaled a sharp breath when she heard them follow her, hastening her every step. “Hey, wait a second, just slow down—”

“Jake, I don’t think she wants us following her, let’s just leave her alone—” She is not only strong at heart but wise, Neytiri thought as she threaded her fingers through the leaves, gently releasing them after she passed. “ I just wanted to say thanks for killing those things—”

She glanced down when his hand slipped around her forearm, snapping what was left of her thin patience. A sharpness whipped across his face, caused by the tip of her bow when she swung it purposefully at him.

“Ah, damn!” He stumbled down, touching his stinging face and looked at her in shock. The girl rushed to his side with a small stroke of ‘I told you so’. “You okay, Jake?” His head whipped up and his bulging eyes spoke more than enough for her to burst out giggling. “How the hell is this funny? Hurting me is funny— what was that for! All I was gonna do is thank her and ask for—”

“You don’t thank!” The thickness of Neytiri’s voice brought their attention toward her, Jake’s being more surprised at the newfound knowledge of her speaking English. “You don’t thank for this. This is sad. Very sad only.” The point of her weapon was still directed towards him, face etched with bane and what Y/N could only make out as deep offense.

She quickly slipped between them, a small hand stretching out against it. “He didn’t mean it that way. All he was trying to do was express his gratitude for helping us, that’s all, okay?”

Neytiri looked taken aback by her soft voice, lowering her bow as if trancened by the gentleness and panic gleaming in the human’s eyes. She watched how the avatar nodded along and lifted a hand to rest across the girl’s back. “Y-yeah, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I am sorry.”

Her nose scrunched and her glowing eyes narrowed between them, gaze lingering on him. “This is your fault. They did not need to die, if you listen only to her, kept to self, then they would be alive still.” A breathless laugh of disbelief left Jake, and both women shot him a glare of warning. “My fault? They’re the ones who attacked us— I was just tryna keep her—”

Neytiri jabbed her bow down at him again, “Your fault!”

He looked at the girl beside him as if to say ‘help me out here, for crying out loud!’ only for her to give a small shrug and pat his shoulder, soon rising to stroke his head in a mocking manner. “You heard her. Your fault, baby.”

“What she has said. You are like a baby. Don’t know how to act. And she is like caregiver. Small but strong while you act like a baby.” Neytiri was oblivious to the mirthful smile Y/N carried, for the reason being Neytiri didn’t know she used the word as an affectionate nickname for Jake, but let her continue to scowl down at him. He sighed in frustration, cautiously pushing away the weapon as he slowly emerged from the ground. “Easy, now, okay?”

Her face remained wary when he looked at her. “All I was tryna do was keep Y/N safe. But if you love your little forest friends, then why not let them just kill our asses, huh?” Neytiri’s expression eased at the mention of the human, peering down at her when she too, stared up at her with the same question wandering around her mind. The warrior recognized what it was to have a strong heart, what it is like to want to protect the one you care for. What it is you’d do for those very people, whether you risk your own life or not, recklessly or not. Which is why her stare remained fixated on Jake. “Why save you?”

His hands fell over his legs, nodding. “Why save me? Why save her?”

She blinked once, then twice. The answer was right there in her mind and heart, though her lips parted a few times as she tried regaining her speech in English. “You have a strong heart,” she softly admitted, “No fear …” she took a step forward, her common nose scrunch returning, “but stupid. Ignorant like a child.”

“And you..” she looked at the human, ears fluttering back, “Rainforest is dangerous for humans, but even when small you have a strong heart also. Seykxel txe’lan. Patient. Listens and respects…” she breathed in deeply in exasperation at recalling the many times Y/N nearly tripped in the forest, “but clumsy. Very clumsy. You must be more careful.”

Jake snickered, only for Neytiri to toss him a fiery glare. “Protect her better.”

He scoffed, hands thrown up in the air, “What is it with people telling me how to protect you?”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to laugh, and eyes that were already full of brightness seemed to shine even more, which Neytiri did not think was possible for a simple human. The sound rang through her enhanced senses, mouth very slightly ajar when Jake grinned. The impossible increased when his smile added to the brightness, and she thought herself to be a fool if she didn’t at least smile.

He looked at her, smile transforming into a jesting one, a more comfortable one, and with that, she seethed out a hiss, glared at him, then her, and made a sharp turn to leave them. Little did she know they were opted to cross and tangle paths with her within seconds, though that entanglement had already begun the moment she laid curious eyes on them.

The constancy of unsettlement made your skin rigidify under the cool air of the former RDA’s structure, unlike the outside world of Pandora had. You were eternally grateful for not getting rid of your old clothing, settling with casual wear followed by a deep blue sweater. A section of this place was formed into an infirmary, and you, or anyone, were to think that an eternity of hospital visits and spending most of your childhood and teen years appointed to different doctors would have been enough preparation for you in this moment. But even if light years away from those hospitals and believing your minor theory would only prove to be fallacious, because regardless of the many doctors, many nurses, many months researching, many in and outs between hospital room to hospital room, it couldn’t compare to the way your whole body racked with disquiet in this precise moment.

“Ma Y/N, you are shaking.” Neytiri’s hand expanded across your lower back, smiling ever so lovingly at you, “Mawey ( be calm ), tiyawn.” Jake now reached over, a large palm cupping your thigh and striked you with that reassuring, sweet grin that always managed to ease you. “Yeah. That heart of yours is too fast right now. Just relax, baby.”

“How the hell do you guys expect me to just stop shaking when it’s damn freezing in here! You’d think that my body has gotten used to the heat from Pandora, but no. How are you not freezing your tails off?”

The picture was abnormal; two tall and long blue bodies, both in their Na’vi wear, both crouched down on each side of little, practically hyperventilating you, a human being seated on a chair, trying to ease your jittering soul. It wasn’t rare to see Jake in here, he’s paid many visits here just for Norm or for a brief check-up for you, or to witness how the others are doing, how they’re holding up. But it was Neytiri that slightly worried you – you could feel the tension she’s trying to thaw away for you, how she held back hissing at the people walking past, nearly stepping on her tail and the only thing keeping her from glaring at them was the small apology they uttered and the touch received by Jake and you.

A deep chuckle rumbled from Jake’s chest, the sound fanning your temple as he placed a sweet kiss there. “I know it’s been awhile, but I’m sure it’s not that bad here. But let’s do some of those breathing exercises before Norm comes up in here, yeah?” Your curt nod confirmed his small smile, motioning to Neytiri whose palm began to rub soothing circles into your lower back.

“Breathe in for us.” You did as he said, eyes screwed shut while inhaling deeply through your nose. “That’s good, angel, now hold it in.” Neytiri’s fingers continued pressing down your back, both finding a way to guide you through your exhale. “Release, lovely girl, nice and easy.” she crooned into your ear, smiling pleased at the feel of your frame relaxing, at the sound of your heart slowing down. “Again, yes?”

Her nose nuzzled very tenderly behind the soft skin of your ear, and Jake’s had his forehead against your own, guiding you through your breaths as your sighs met his mouth. That was the conclusion of their strategy to ease you, an achievement they both knew their abilities could prosper. Though you still felt your anxiety struggling to find a balance with your peace, it was still enough to get them to become equal, caused by none other than these two who know you so deeply, evaluated the precise things you needed despite them being unclear to you.

“You remember that other doc that helped Grace find out how you can breathe in Pandora and your condition? Also helped with Grace’s pregnancy?” You allowed yourself to respond with a ‘yes’ as their warmth started seeping through your system. “ She has a field in REI. Norm and her, Dr. Mason. She was an old friend of Grace too, and since we trusted Grace, and we trusted Dr. Mason with Kiri’s birth, Neytiri and we trust she can help us too…is that okay?”

Neytiri parted from your skin, glancing at you with expectant eyes while Jake smiled. “I trust you two…so yeah. It’s okay.” Just as Jake removed himself from you, Norm, in his avatar form, and you recognized Dr. Mason from the times you visited Grace’s pregnant avatar body, entered the room with a small smile.

“Hello, Y/N. Neytiri. Jake.” You each gave a small nod to the brunette doctor. “How’re you all feeling right now? Especially you, Y/N?”

The question seemed gratuitous, you thought, because despite the other two trying to comfort you, you knew it unnerved Neytiri by the way she kept hold on you and Jake, well he has a fine smile at the moment, but you’re more than certain it may be costing him a lot to keep calm for your sake. And you; distress drenched your glistening face, and your leg bounced unsteadily so by the seams of it, this doctor is not an observing one.

A chuckle dragged out of Jake’s throat, hand clasped once more over your knee while the other reached for Neytiri’s shoulder. “We’re good, she’s good. Just nervous.”

Norm made his way towards Jake, clapping him on the back with a smile thrown your way and Dr. Mason pulled out a stark white rolling stool beneath the desk in front of her. “And that’s okay, being nervous is perfectly normal,” she looked directly towards you, settling down on the stool. “It’s to be expected, but I can guarantee you that the results from HSG you took earlier are perfectly fine; there’s no stoppage within your fallopian tubes. Everything’s functioning just the way it’s supposed to be.”

Your shoulders heaved in relief, and Neytiri took a chance in taking your hand in hers and giving a squeeze. You trust these two, you trusted Grace and the delivery of Kiri, but the valid confirmation contained more impact in this case. “So that means we can move forward or..?”

“There’s something we do have to add onto this,” Norm chirped through Jake’s open question, and you sensed the edge in his voice and the way the doctor’s posture straightened. Neytiri’s eyes flickered between them in question though Jake remained unbothered. “About?”

“Do you know how avatars were made?” You gave him a nod while your wife and husband motioned no, and Norm sighed at this, mostly at Jake, hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering ‘Of course you don’t’ before dropping his hand. “Alright, time for the ‘geek’ stuff, as you call it, Jake. Neytiri, I’m sure you can keep up.” You all held back a smirk when Jake rolled his eyes but motioned him to continue.

“The Avatar Program used an embryo, an unborn offspring, that contained a mixture of Na’vi genes, and the human DNA from the one who was selected or volunteered, which I hope you remember was called ‘the driver’ of the body. Then the avatar is in those incubators, waiting to grow,” Norm explained, fingers rising to his brows. “Because the avatar has our exact DNA, they carry our similar features. Brows, eyes, our hands, shoulders, etcetera.”

“Okay, so what does this have to do with a damn child?” Jake’s brow furrowed and you gave him a look before looking back at Norm who proceeded. “Your body is originally an avatar, Jake. Which means you carry our normal human DNA reproduction. Or at least carried. You’ve adapted quite a lot over the months, and we’ve never…seen a human get pregnant by one of the Na’vi.”

“But Grace was pregnant–”

“Her avatar was pregnant,” Dr. Mason corrected. “While her human body was not. And up to this day we are still running tests to see how that was possible. We aren’t sure how Y/N’s body is going to react to this pregnancy. Now,” she put her hands together out in front of her and stared between Neytiri and Jake, then you. “I am going to be blunt, and straightforward. And I need the truth, despite the discomfort, you three.” You all glanced at each other, giving a nod.

“Have you participated in sexual activities?”

Your face flared and throat constricted before clearing it. “I, uh well we–” Jake wasn’t any better, eyes straying from the doctor with his mouth pressed into a line. Yet Neytiri, she gave a solid, unbothered nod, “Yes, we have.”

The doctor chuckled at how your wide eyes snapped towards her, and she only looked at you bewildered at your and Jake’s behavior before looking back at the human in front of her. “There is issue with this?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No there isn’t. I just have a pair of questions that may help with this procedure. It’s alright.” Her brows rose in specification. “I hope there’s plenty of precautions, however. Size is different, size is important. But seeing that Y/N is unharmed, well I’m sure you have taken them, no?” You all nodded in agreement. She smiled before it fell, turning towards Jake. “Have you ever had a carnal outlet within Y/N more than once? And by ‘carnal outlet’, I mean sexual release.”

And so the embarrassing heat crawling up your neck continued flowing with her bluntness. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, a distant look within his eyes as if recalling the events a few nights ago and you just have to resist bringing your hands to hide your face. His bright yellow eyes peered at you, then Neytiri whose expression spoke more than the truth. “Uh, yes. I have.”

She leaned back with a pensive look. “And from the looks of it, Y/N goes on without expecting a child. Now we could do an IVF to see if maybe that’d probably give some results. But even when creating an avatar, trying to bring together Na’vi DNA with a human’s was difficult enough, so there’s no telling how Y/N’s body would react to her egg and your…new sperm being definitely joined so…”

“You saying it won’t work?” Your chest churned a bit at Jake’s words, and Neytiri was becoming fretful from how long this whole conversation had become.

“We’re not sure. There also is something I have been debating on. Yes, joining human and Na’vi DNA came with difficulties, and it is a miracle that we had the opportunity to create avatars. But now here comes the more additional part Norm would like to assist me with.” All eyes were on Norm now whose face portrayed the utterance of slight nervousness. “It will, but the old fashion way. With Y/N…and another human.”

Jake’s eyes squinted. “Hold it. You mean she has to get knocked up by someone else?”

You resisted rolling your eyes and bit your lip. “You mean a sperm donor?” He whipped around and Neytiri’s forehead creased. “What does this mean?”

“It means some other guy’s sperm is gonna be donated to her and used for her to end up pregnant.”

“So the child will not be biologically ours?”

“Guess you can say that.” He grumbled, suddenly not very fond of the idea though you didn’t know what to feel.

“Biologically, no. Legal, yes.” Dr. Mason pointed out. “However,” Norm jumped in, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “Not just by any guy’s sperm, if not yours, Jake.”

“I thought you just said my sperm ain’t gonna work since she hasn’t been knocked up with every round we’ve had. Then all three of us combined.” He bluntly spat out earning a smack to his bicep. “Jake, I swear—”

“Yes, we have said that. But we’re not talking about the body you have right now if not—”

“—My old body?”

Norm grinned. “exactly.”

“We gave his body a proper burial.” Neytiri frowned deeply, perplexed and perhaps a bit upset at this new information. “You will be breaking tradition if you go and take his body back after all this time.”

The room fell silent, and by the terribly familiar look Norm etched into his face, you already knew what had occurred before he could even begin to speak it into existence. “We have the body.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The next thing you know, you’re all standing right before Jake’s human body that had been placed in a refrigeration morgue, still in a fine, well condition…alive. The sight of it…him with those once blue eyes hidden beneath completely shut eyelids, tugged on your heart, gulping thickly while you felt your mates’ tension radiating behind you. Neytiri’s gaze was punctured yet emotionless, but Jake, with the way his jaw set, the bareness of his back rippling with an unpleasant chill he didn’t think to feel.

“Why…why do you have this?” Jake rasped and looked at Norm who was leaning against the cold wall. “We wanted to see if your body was unaffected, still alive and well without you being in it… scientist curiosity.” He shrugged.

“And is it?” He nodded your way, peering down at the body. “Unconscious, obviously. But still functional…well except for the,” he motioned downwards, indicating the paralysis of his legs which Jake nodded at.

“And what does this have to do with Y/N and child?” Neytiri practically snarled, inhaling sharply and letting her hands fall over your shoulders, grasping a bit too tight. Dr. Mason, quiet the entire time, pushed her glasses back. “It means we’ll have to retrieve sperm from Jake’s old body to test this conclusion. We can try with your human body’s sperm with IVF as we spoke of the other day you were here, and if it does not meet the results, we can try with your current one now—”

“Hold on, my wife isn’t gonna become some sort of lab experiment.” Jake interrupted. “You should’ve told us all this before, including about this…thing right here. We don’t wanna put any strain on her body. You said so yourself, if putting Na'vi and human DNA was hard, now imagine her growing it in her. Her blood pressure and heart rate are going out of control with this whole process. I don’t want to risk her.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes while Neytiri let out a long sigh with a pang in her chest, signs of frustration and hurt which didn’t get past Dr. Mason. You and Neytiri knew it wasn’t unusual for him to act like this, he’d done the same thing during your previous appointment, and every night he’d lay with you two in his arms, a distant look upon his face as he stared up at the night sky and both of you knew what was gearing in his head, the possible complications and risks that may recite when dealing with your condition. Yes, it has lessened, but your heart hasn’t changed whatsoever. His behavior was not to be disincentive, again, you knew this; Jake, along with Neytiri, both wanted to be informed thoroughly of each step and risk before a big decision was made.

And while the revelation of his human body, the very body and face you had first fallen in love with, had come as a big surprise to you all, his acts could be discouraging sometimes despite the fact that you appreciated his efforts. “Jake, my love, I’m sure she knows all this already.”

You thought Neytiri would’ve the very least agree with your words, and yet; “But perhaps Jake is right in this, ma Y/N. We do not know how your body will react.”

“Neytiri, Jake. Your wife is correct. Given her condition, and the results of her uterosalpingography, my suggestion would be to proceed with the IUI, and if, only if she would agree, to see what will happen with each of Jake’s sperm. this could include medication, to ensure that you are ovulating if you on the other hand would not be, a trig—”

He shook his head, shrugging off Norm's hand. “If I remember correctly, Norm, you said her cycle begins and lasts between 28 and 36 days.”

“ Jake—”

“Yes, but—”

“Nah.” He tore his eyes away from his wives. “I may not be a woman, and I might be slow on some things but I know how your body works, Y/N. We don’t wanna do things that are unnecessary and might harm her.”

“She will begin ovulating in 3 days from now, no? So the procedure…it happens a day or two after, right?” Neytiri questioned curiously, peering down at you as your hands rose to her forearms. But your gaze remained on Jake’s former body, and Dr. Mason’s focus was kept on you and your silence, analyzing your expression. “You both are correct.” It was then that she motioned Norm to cover the body back up when you looked away.

“So we won’t continue with this.”

More of a blunt statement than a question, and this simmered a low groan in your chest forgetting how Jake can be with his tone sometimes. “How does your wife feel about this, Mr. Sully?” Norm’s palm pressed over Jake’s shoulder when he was about to move forward while Neytiri looked down at you, studying every part of your face, the way the muscles of your shoulders constricted beneath her touch.

Those golden eyes tendered for a moment before raising her head to look at Jake, tugging on his arm hard causing him to rip his glare away from Norm. “It is up to Y/N to decide how she wants this to happen, ma Jake.” He turned your way, once hardened eyes returning to their usual softness when upon his girls. You noticed the way his mouth pressed together, how he strained himself from breathing, then asking, “What do you want, angel?”

“Can you let Dr. Mason and I talk alone for a moment?”

Neytiri’s hold on you gave a small pressure before releasing, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Of course, seykxel txe’lan. Whatever you decide, we will support it.” A sigh relicted from Jake, giving a quick glance to Norm then Dr. Mason before nodding. “We’ll be out here.” You smiled nervously at the way Neytiri eyed the doctor, her voice silent but her eyes speaking louder than audible words.

Their presence, and mainly his hesitation, to let you and the doctor enter the room was something permeable, breathed in by you both. When she closed the door, away from the tensing muddle out there, you exhaled while Dr. Mason quietly returned to her stool.

“I’m uh….sorry about him. And her.” You let out a wary laugh and she simply chuckled and settled with a soft smile. “There is nothing to apologize for, Y/N. I found myself expecting it considering previous encounters,” she waved off your apology, both chuckling before she perched herself forward. “But this isn’t about them right now. This is about you, your body. And as Neytiri said, your decision.”

You took in a slow, deep breath and processed her words, the doctor before you patiently waiting for you to respond. You do so by nodding your head, tightly clasping your hands together over your lap.

Her eyes squinted and cleared her throat. “The way Jake said it was a bit…too harsh. But again, Neytiri was right on point with the ovulation cycle. You are familiar with the function of IUI?”

“I’m familiar with the way Norm explained it all nervously while Jake and Neytiri watched him, yeah.” She chuckled and you couldn’t help smiling, comfortability being a main key in this procedure, and her presence was one connected to it as all the other times you’ve had encounters with her. “She was correct about your ovulating cycle?”

“Yes, I will begin ovulating in about 3 days.”

“Alright! Now, the procedure. You are familiar with it?” Her head tilt followed her question, lenses very slightly sliding down her nose before she adjusted them. Your reflection bounced off them, giving you a glimpse of the curiosity brimming your eyes, brows twisted in concentration. “I am, actually. But a brief review never harmed anyone, did it?”

She grinned amused at your words, grabbing a screen set over her desk and turned it on. “Of course not.”

“On the day of your ovulation, you'll return to me. The chosen sperm sample — chosen as in between Jake’s two forms — will be prepared and cleaned for the procedure. You might feel some mild discomfort from the speculum, but it shouldn't be painful.”

You nodded in agreement with every word, attentively absorbing each sentence. While Norm had already informed you about much of this, hearing it directly from the person conducting the procedure provided an additional sense of reassurance. But the mention of your mates, the choosing of Jake sort of triggered you.

She of course caught on to it, and paused. “The reason why we give you the option of Jake’s both forms is because we are not 100 percent certain if he now can accomplish this. The question being asked of him having an outlet had a major part in this, but since he confirmed he has and you haven’t sounded up pregnant…well we may have to try with his human form.”

“A-and that will for sure work?”

She turned off her screen and placed it down quietly with a sigh. “His human form, yes, I am certain there will be results, perhaps not right away but that’s normal. We can as well try with his Na’vi sperm as well, if you are up for it, though we may have to do IVF instead for that process.”

She attentively explained the difference to the process of IVF, and you kept up in order to understand what she meant.

“But there is something you may like to know, and I didn’t say to the other two because I need to hear from you first;” She held a tight smile, and you anxiously yearned for the doctor to finally articulate whatever it is she had to. “Neytiri and Jake, they’re both mated before Eywa, correct?”

You gave a nod and her gaze punctured on you a bit longer. “Well, I conclude that because they are a mated Na’vi pair, both their zygote may, perhaps, be able to combine with your own egg, given that the fetus may have not only yours and Jake’s genes, but biologically Neytiri’s as well.”

The idea thrilled and terrified you, but mainly thrilled especially clearly for the reason all three of you shared a part in this, by the prospect of welcoming not only a new life, but the thought of nurturing a child who would embody the unique blend of their shared genetics.

“But, there’s no exact response with how this will react with Neytiri in the circle. My theorized research indicates that it leans more on the positive side, though there still are flaws within this. So, to put it shortly; would you like to do IUI with Jake’s former body? If it doesn’t work, we can try again. We can do three to four rounds before and only if you decide to move on with IVF and inform Jake and Neytiri about this.”

You chewed on your lip contemplating our decision making and slight worries. You did want to take whatever chance you could if it meant birthing your own child, experiencing motherhood, fulfilling the dream of giving your mates an additional symbolism of your love. With that, you gave a firm nod. “I’ll do it. And the IVF.”

She gave you a smile, one that tried to bring some sort of tension release from your posture. “Alright then. Do you have any more questions for me?”

You inhaled, debating the single query that rattled within your brain at the moment, “is choosing this making me self absorbed?

“Having a baby makes one self absorbed?”

Your locks swayed from your head shake no. “Of course not but…given my heart, the big possibilities that might not be good, the stress. Me being human and in Pandora. How will the baby turn out…human or one of the Na’vi?”

“What Neytiri calls you..seykxel txe’lan. It means strong heart, correct?”

“Yes..”

“Do you believe that you have a strong heart?”

“I do.”

She proceeded. "Life holds immense value. Opting to utilize the precious gift of life bestowed upon you to bring forth another being is a weighty decision, especially considering your profound awareness of your given circumstances, but again; your physical capabilities are powerful. Your heart is strong, and it’s choosing to take this step because of that strength. You know this because it’s yours. While there may be uncertainty about whether this response fully addresses your inquiry, it summarizes the center of the situation as best as possible." Her mouth curled. “And the last one…let’s leave it up to God, or Eywa, as the Na’vi say.”

A watery laugh fell from your lips as you accepted her choice of words and nodded. You know you can handle this greatly. For your heart is strong, and it is under your knowing.

Dancing. A profound significance within the Na’vi, though Y/N and Jake witness it through the Omaticaya’s culture. It served as a vibrant and intricate expression of their traditions and communal bonds. It was strongly included after the hunt Jake and Neytiri had succeeded in, a Hunt Festival. As both their feet were led into the bustling of their Hometree by the Olo’eyktan’s daughter, they couldn’t help the amazement enhancing their expressions from a spirited atmosphere promised of not just mere entertainment but rather a living testimony of the rich tapestry of their heritage.

Her eyes were blown out, mouth elevated in a smile while Jake held a wide grin, both of you being maneuvered through the tugs Neytiri gave your arms, her share of an anticipating smile brightening the night. “Come, faster!”

“We’d be moving faster if this one here would speed up,” Jake smirked down at Y/N, a glower meeting his expression. “Not my fault I’m tinier,” she grumbled, a screech of surprise following along as he deftly carried her, arms thrown across his too broad shoulders. “If you drop me—“

“Oh, how the tables have turned in our size, angel.” The usual steady octave of his voice morphed into a tuneful hum, and Neytiri’s smile grew impossibly larger at the sight of them before grabbing Jake.

“Hurry.”

Tall and graceful figures shimmered of many colors to the rhythm of enticing music permeating the air. Many of the Na’vi’s blue frames were accentuated with extensively used bundles of feathers and long multicolored cords tied around their long arms and legs. And that included Neytiri, whose once braided hair had been released to free, dark tendrils cascading across her back, swaying with every quick step she took towards the one they called Tsu’tey, the scientist Norm, and Grace Augustine, and Jake settled down between his two friends with Y/N still in his arms, not bothering to set her down.

Eytukan, father of Neytiri, head of the clan and Olo’eyktan, and Mo’at, mother of Neytiri and the clan’s spiritual leader, discerned her daughter, then Jake, and after days of slight hesitation around the human’s presence, Eytukan found ease with her the moment he saw his mate confirmed she was not a harm, and was chosen alongside Jake. The Na’vi too had been skeptical, some still remained that way when seeing how Eywa had given a sign to not kill not just the avatar, but the human.

Though the acceptance from their Tsahik and Olo’eyktan gave them a sliver of peace, some disregarding their presence, others bowing their heads, some even greeting the pair. But right now, everyone’s concentration was bored into their dancing, into a spiritual connection that harmonized them with nature, embodying a profound respect for the flora and fauna that surround all that is living around them. And there was Neytiri, wavering fastidiously between all bodies unknown to Y/N and Jake, and out of all people she decided to keep her glowing eyes fixated on them both, teeth slightly bared in a smile.

Jake took part in conversing with Tsu’tey and other warriors, reciting the events that had taken place during the hunt, those around him loudly favoring him and he sported a large grin when Tsu’tey clapped him in the back before his attention returned to Neytiri, absorbing her fluent movements and beautiful presence, then the girl seated on his lap.

“You’re pretty wearing that, y’know?” Y/N shuddered beneath his touch on her neck, looking over only to meet vehement eyes and a small smirk, his freckles profounding his features beautifully. She beamed up at him, knowing what he meant by his words; she wore clothing the Na’vi had gifted her with, and her hair had been brought back, a small amount of narrow braids being styled by none other than Neytiri, twinkling yet light-colored spherules and cords woven through when the braid had been halfway finished, and a few strands had found their place in swaying across your temples and brows.

An angel she is, was what Jake’s heart thumped the more he looked at her, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one who thought so. A breathless and vibrant Neytiri had stepped out of the crowd and crouched in front of her, her legs transposing her much closer to them. “Jake is right;” The tips of her long fingers skimmed across a braid sitting comely over Y/N’s bare collarbone, right near a handcrafted necklace similar to Jake’s. “Sevin. Pretty. Very pretty tonight.” The human’s poor wayward heart prospered a fervor warmth at the tender curve Neytiri’s lips painted for her, at the words uttered for and because of her. She tried pushing back air from her lungs by clearing her throat, unaware of Jake’s gaze inspecting both of them scrupulously. “T-thank you…it’s because of you though. Irayo, Neytiri. (thank you)”

Her ears twitched at the sound of her name perfectly pronounced by Y/N’s lips. “Kea tìkin. (You’re welcome.)” The very lips she couldn’t help let her gaze fall upon for a brief moment before looking between her and Jake. A grin transformed her face, “You must dance.”

Her hand reached for his arm while the other went to Y/N’s knee, and his head whirled to her who recognized the strike of panic in him. “N-nah, I’m good. Not much of a dancer. Besides, Y/N is too small for that.” In true recognition, she knew how he hadn’t had any contact with dancing due to his paralysis back on Earth, especially considering he never had the apparent time when he joined the Marine. So, instead of prying him to stay and playfully scolding him for remarking her size, she slid off his lap and patted his cheek. “Go.”

“It is the way.” Neytiri insisted, giving Y/N’s knee a squeeze before grabbing his arm once more.

He peered between them, eyes squinted and searching Y/N’s round ones with his mouth pursed. “You sure?” Tsu’tey, the one betrothed to Neytiri, had an almost like scowl across his face but stayed quiet, watching how Neytiri beamed when he gave in at Y/N’s eager nod, pushing him into Neytiri’s hold. “Yes, now stop being a baby and dance!”

She giggled when Jake dropped a kiss to her head, and before him being dragged away he pulled along Grace who exclaimed in surprise, Norm laughing out loud before joining the three.

As the tempo of the music started to escalate, Neytiri positioned Jake in front of her, motioning for him to follow her movements along with everyone else’s around them; her palms extended out in front of her, and Jake’s brushed against hers before taking a small step forward and mirrored the way her hands shimmered and arms slowly glided above her head. Sparks of amber materialized, both their irises flickered when the pads of their fingers strode across one another’s, those sparks simmering with each of their movements and feathered touches. His chest racketed in an awful familiarity when with Y/N, throat tightening the more his eyes bore within hers. He resisted the urge to encase his palms around her forearms and wrap them around himself, firmly reminding himself of those surrounding them, of his angel watching them. And yet when he spared a glance her way, he saw her with the warmest of smiles, skin gaining its precious glow and eyes tender yet wondrous while staring at them both.

He had comprehended the way Y/N had grown incredibly close to Neytiri, and Neytiri never once denied or ignored her existence as a human. Sure, like any other of the Na’vi, the female warrior detained slight skepticism, but that was at the beginning. He discerned the way Neytiri treated Y/N with the equal amount of protection and precision as him; how her body would stay close to Y/N’s when walking through the forest, or how with her being human she was aware to her dietary being distinctly different to the Na’vi, so she would ride Seze and fly where Grace, Jake, and Norm’s human bodies resided in and her former mentor would help her gather nutritions for Y/N, returning to Pandora’s forests and firmly imply for the human to eat. Or how her thin patience with him is spared with Y/N’s quickness in picking up on their culture, traditions, and language. And if he wasn’t indicating something that was clearly noticeable, she approached not just Y/N but him with small gestures of affection.

From the lightest of touches to the specters of gazes and curls of gorgeous smiles or deep scowls and scolding remarks (mainly towards him but he found it entertaining) ; he, along with Y/N, sensed how grand Neytiri’s presence captivated them. He felt accepted with his Y/N, understood, acknowledged with his Y/N. He was saved because of her pure existence. But for the past months, Neytiri had made her scorching mark within their relationship, one that was the complete opposite of incapacitating. Sanctuary resided with both Y/N and her, safety, protection, strength, affirmation with himself, with his existence in this new world, completely disintegrating the main reason as to why he agreed to be a part of the Na’vi, and instead flourished a new desire within himself.

Those radiant specks ignited violently when the length of their fingers collided within the other’s, each speck accumulating between their clasped palms. Overwhelmed was her expression, eyes fluttering with the realization of what had occurred before gently pushing him away for the next part of the dance. He chuckled, giving one more look towards Y/N before devoting his complete focus to this dance, more so Neytiri.

…………

Giggles and laughter wafted through the expansive canvas of Pandora's azure sky, where the rhythmic beats of tree drums faded into the background, becoming the least of their concerns. They ambled through the forest, their joyous expressions painting the scene with the happiest of faces.

"You could've joined us, Y/N. We would have found a way." Neytiri's graceful strides carried her among the radiant flora, huffing a giggle as Y/N grumbled when a sizable leaf brushed across her face, only for Jake to effortlessly pluck it away and swipe it aside.

"No worries, Tiri." A sweet smile graced her lips as she addressed the statuesque woman. "It might have been a bit awkward for you to kneel down in front of me or something."

A chuckle emanated from Jake as his hand descended gently over her head. "would've teamed you up with a youngster. Imagine how cute that’s be." Her captivating eyes sharply rolled in his direction. In times past, he might have found it not only adorable but also slightly intimidating. Yet now, he found himself in the realm of charm, fingers tenderly stroking beneath her chin, a quick move near Neytiri before Y/N could manage to push him away from the apartment of delightful moments.

Her cunning was evident, for as his elongated strides carried him farther from her, his tail swayed freely, exposed and vulnerable. Seizing the opportunity, she deftly entwined her fingers around its end, exerting a gentle tug. A hiss escaped his lips, a feeble attempt to feign annoyance, yet it dissolved swiftly as the infectious sound of their shared laughter enveloped them. The girls' giggles cascaded into uncontrollable fits of mirth, captivating him to the point where he couldn't resist joining in with a hearty chuckle.

He hunched down, pressing his palms firmly against his thighs, his gaze piercing as it locked onto her. "Come here," he commanded, his voice laced with anything but authority. A high-pitched squeal reverberated in his ears, her nimble feet propelling her towards the vibrant glow of neon lights. The sound of their resounding footfalls echoed in pursuit of her every step.

Pandora's breath danced through her hair, unfettered and carefree. The liberating sensation enveloped her as she sprinted, releasing laughter that lingered in the air with breathless grace. Gradually, her pace decelerated, the absence of their footsteps prompting a deliberate and attentive pause. Amid the hushed surroundings, she found herself captivated by the radiance of a luminous plant, its allure seizing her focus. Delicately, her fingers traced the intricate leaves, a smile softly adorning her lips.

A yelp left her throat as long, firm arms curl around your waist and raw warmth pressed into her from behind. “Gotcha,” Jake murmured into her neck, lips brushing her thrumming pulse point. For Eywa’s sake. “Got scared? Serves ya right for grabbing on my tail.”

Just as she’s willing her heart rate to slow down and closed her eyes for not even a second, Neytiri’s face appeared right in front of Y/N earning another jolt from her. “What is wrong with you!”

Neytiri’s laughter resonated with a joyous, airy cadence. A soft breeze swerved into her ears, finding its destination within Y/N’s heart and gifted it with the strong, steady beat it grandly needed in this moment.

“Forgive me, Y/N.” The flash of stark rows gleamed in a great smile. “Jake thought it would be fun. Are you alright?

She let out a breathy huff and allowed herself to melt in Jake’s embrace, reaching for Neytiri’s hands who without hesitation granted them to her. It was a common thing to witness now, the petite physical interactions between the two girls. Jake didn’t mind however, he enjoyed seeing them get along.

“I’m fine…just catching my breath.” She divulged, inhaling deeply only for her to catch Neytiri’s and Jake’s absorbing scents, before her elbow lightly nudged his torso. “Scared me. Rude ass.”

Jake’s arms tightened ever so slightly, thumbs stroking the unclad juts of her hip bones in something similar to an apology. “M’bad, angel.” He hummed, baring his teeth in a grin. “But it would’ve been funny to see you dance with a kid your exact size.”

“Jake.”

“It’s the truth! Imagine slow dancing with one, that’s be so adorable—”

She groaned, “Jake can you not!”

She released Neytiri to push his heavy arms away before reaching for one of his hands, then Neytiri’s and tugged her forward. “C’mon Tiri!” The young hunter, however, had a pensive expression, their words from earlier peeking a wonder in her.

“There is dancing in sky people’s home?”

Y/N’s current movements came to a halt, her head whirling towards the Na’vi woman. Jake let out a laugh edged with ridicule, as if her words were the punchline of a joke towards humankind until he saw her face. “Oh shit, you’re serious?”

“Oh shit, yes I am serious.” Mocking was her tone, and Y/N chuckled at her use of ‘shit’. “You didn’t cover this in the school Grace taught in?” he debriefed, head tilting as he stood up fully.

She nodded, “She did tell us this. But not specifics, another topic she moved to and we never knew if sky people danced different than us.” Her tresses fell behind her shoulders as she too stood to her full height, leaving Y/N to meet the center of her abdomen. The human took an abrupt step back, cheeks glowing with a subtle flush at how her tinier hand was still engulfed by Neytiri’s.

“They do dance, but not all have the same dance styles.”

“Dance styles?”

“Y-yeah. Like traditional dances, similar to your people’s, or break dancing, disco dancing, salsa, ballet, and a lot more.” Y/N smiled up at Neytiri as she proceeded her words. “What about the one Jake spoke of? Slow dancing?”

Her smile widened, glancing over at Jake who took in a breath before explaining. “It’s a dance—”

“Obviously, Sherlock.”

“Y/N, angel don’t interrupt me.”

“What is Sherlock?”

“Neytiri, honey, I’ll explain later—”

“Anyways! Slow dancing is a type of style where there’s two people, right? They get very close, sorta like a hug, I guess you can say. And you just,” his body swayed side to side in a silly motion that made Y/N hold back a giggle while Neytiri’s lips pursed. “Sway.”

“And, anyone can participate in this?” Y/N nodded, “but it’s seen as an intimate dance. Like, for couples.” The warrior stayed quiet, trying to gather her thoughts together to express them. “Have…you and Jake acted in slow dancing when both on earth?”

Jake snorted, his interlocked hand with Y/N’s swinging. “Nah, we couldn’t.” Neytiri didn’t understand fully, and they didn’t expect her to, and for the time being, they didn’t say anything just yet. She nodded in acknowledgement, respecting their silence and thought for a moment. “Would you like to?”

“Yeah…but like he said; I’m too short for it.”

“Size does not matter in intimacy.” The human blinked in surprise, staring up at Neytiri. “I suppose you’re right…but we need the right tune for it.”

“And tune as in song.” Jake interjected. “And we don’t happen to carry some portable speaker, so…”

“Song is all around us, Jake.” Neytiri was right. The lush and vibrant landscape was alive with a wide range of animal noises, creating an immersive auditory experience. The woods resounded with the chittering and chirping of hexapedal creatures like the woodsprites and viperwolves. Their interactions generated a lively background noise, enhancing the sense of a thriving ecosystem. The ground-dwelling direhorses, hammerhead titanotheres, and other unique beings added their own distinct vocalizations to the rich tapestry of Pandora's wildlife.

He cleared his throat and Y/N’s smile widened. “Do you want to learn, Tiri?”

Her determined nod made her laugh, and turned to Jake. “Mr. Good Height, you’re dancing with her.”

His brows jumped up. “Don’t wanna sound like an asshole, but I already danced with her.”

“You can do it again, can’t ya?”

“Why don’t you?”

Y/N hummed in false thought, leaning right in front of Neytiri and motioned her arms around her lower waist while Neytiri could only stare at what she was doing. “This a good way to slow dance?”

“She can get on her knees for you.” She caught the glint of mischief in his eyes, and she rolled her eyes in hopes to cover up the heat rushing to her cheeks. “No, that’d be awkward — Jake, come on.”

He looked over at Neytiri, debating, seeking if she wanted the option of dancing with him. He in reality did want to, but he wanted Y/N to have part in this as well, so she could feel that strong affinity he too felt. “Alright, but you have a part in this as well.”

She seemed unconvinced, pulling his arm in order for him to get closer to Neytiri. “Yeah, yeah I will take part by telling you how to. Jake, put a hand right…" She hovered his palm right over the arch of her back, his arm practically enveloping her, and she was fully aware of the way Neytiri’s breath sharpened and looked up at her. “You okay?”

She nodded, “What must I do?”

“Put one hand on his shoulder.”

The muscles constricted beneath her gentle touch, Jake clearing his throat and rose his other hand. “Gimme yours, now.” Both their hands now clasped together, and Y/N’s smiled softly at the way her four fingers glided through his human-like ones. Jake nodded as in remembrance of what occurred next and took lead. “Now, we just slowly move…”

Her eyes flickered to his for a brief moment, a rare shyness pervading her features and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Relax…just follow my lead, alright?” Their chests brushed against one another at the delicate sway he indicated, bare feet motions small yet shockingly skillful steps, and Neytiri couldn’t help but stumble at the turn he gave her. He laughed, shaking his head when she glared his way and pulled away. “Sorry, it’s normal though. C’mon, let’s try again.”

“It will happen again?”

“It could, Tiri.” Y/N said, both glancing her way only to see her sitting on the glowing ground with an anticipating grin stretching her mouth. “But that’s okay! Just keep trying, okay?” She huffed out an ‘okay, yes’, resuming her position near the male who grinned at her. “Let’s repeat that motion again, okay? Just look at my feet if you want…lemme guide you through it.”

Lighthearted he felt from her curious eyes, at her small ‘like this?’, at the way she entrusted her body in his closeness, the way her nose would crunch up in small frustration before he would assure her it’s okay, Y/N giving her an encouraging smile when she looked aside. A few minutes had passed, and they had already made a full circle around the spot they’d been in, and she was wondrously catching onto the dance, his hands guiding her movements. Neytiri, initially skeptical, found joy in the dance. It was different from what she’d grown up with, much more simple, much more simplicity of contact that beheld pureness yet an intense amount of sensations…perhaps that is why she enjoyed it.

“There ya go, good job…” Excited, round globes made from shades of gold and green engulfed him, her ears fluttering at the small praise she had received. A few more languid beats went by, and subconsciously their faces inclined closer, his chin slightly dipped down causing his nose to feather down hers. Upon this act, those ember cinders convoked once more, just like the earlier dance. He embraced them, however, and she didn’t push away either.

It was like one of those old romantic films witnessed back on Earth, Y/N thought, her hand clasped against her cheek as her elbow hoisted over her thigh. But more profound and distinct, and maybe it was for the fact that they were in a whole other, much more preternatural world, its gorgeous fluorescent lights somehow intensifying their tall enchanting figures, the way their tails surged in synchronization with their now deft feet that moved across the glowing ground.

The once thought to be weak heart of hers encapsulated in her chest swelled when their movements came to a halt, and two pairs of golden irises turned to her, and a smiling Neytiri pulled away from him to grab the girl from her current sitting spot. “He said you have part in this too…come.”

Three beings, one apart of the Na’vi by birth, one once a Sky Warrior and now a part of the Omaticaya Na’vi, and one human prophesied by Eywa to live and walk among them as if one of Na’vi, could be seen dancing in Pandora’s forest, nocturnal creatures assisting in the moment with their light as Jake gently twirled the human and Neytiri with each of his hands. And what could be heard were the aerance laughters and giggles from the three, a bond just as much intimate and reflective as forming tsaheylu tethering the three’s hearts together in this precise moment.

Enduring the act of waiting wasn't a preference, but you were well acquainted with it. Your moral patience, unwillingly cultivated, now functioned as a whole waged implement. A day after your appointment with Dr. Mason was reduced to 3 weeks, requiring you to wait during that time before taking the next step for an HCG test or a pregnancy-like test that had been created.

Yet with that being said, the enduring act of waiting wasn’t one for you at times. Neytiri, however, as much as she wished for results if you’d been blessed with a child, stayed firm to her patience, trying to trust the process of sprouting life within your womb — though you did catch on to how odd and perhaps even terrifying it seemed to her, the numerous steps to be taken in this, how it couldn’t compare to the simplicity of Na’vi birth ( though in your perspective of a human, it did seem curiously strange to the way they gave birth as well —). And even the Tsahik had been involved with the hopes of a child, attentive to any signs the Great Mother may give. You did notice the amount of times Neytiri went to go see her mother, and when she would return she was reticent about it, a bit too curt followed by a minor smile. Perhaps you were thinking things too thoroughly, but she became slightly distant.

Jake was…unpredictable to determine his exact emotions, to say the least. One would think he’d be involved in the constancy of reassurance, but of course, actuality is a must in these cases. Erratic he was, deriving within his acts as Clan Leader a bit more often than he would usually have to do. Monitoring for the two little ones was never a complaint for you, always happily complying because you adore them endlessly, yet constantly doing so while trying to monitor your own health and Neytiri and Jake attending their own duties spawned something distinct from their habitual affectations.

Jake arrived home much later at night, his appetite strange, and he kept more quiet than he’d ever been with you on specific things. His act with his two children wasn’t any different, while he would hold and smile at them, his eyes carried a distant look. Now every time you held and played with them, that neutral demeanor would be there. One you haven’t seen since the conflict between the RDA and the Na’vi. You or Neytiri didn’t pry on it, but you knew Neytiri knew as to why he was behaving like this. When nightfall came, however, they never neglected in holding you close, almost too pleading, providing you with their sole warmth. You more than understood that they had their duties as Olo’eyktan and wife of Olo’eyktan to fulfill, how it may take partial time from your family. But now was a time you needed them more than ever, and confronting the two was bound to come with difficulties, because even Neytiri would be out the second sunlight peeked out in the sky.

So, when Neytiri had informed you she was going to meet her mother for something she didn’t specify any details about and the once bright day had come down to nightfall, you decided to notify Mo’at only for her to tell you she knew nothing of meeting with her daughter, and Jake had been on the calendar to train a few young warriors, your mother-in-law more than willingly stayed with her grandchildren for you to visit a specific spot in the forest, one you were familiar with from the many times you and your mates spend many loving moments there early on in your relationship. And of course, there you found the two glowing forms; Neytiri with her nose flaring as her mouth twisted into a frown, and Jake’s eyes came with tiredness and sadness all at once, ears flattening at the words coming out of your wife’s mouth.

“She has every right to know! I do not like this — the way you act, the way you keep secrets. You ask me to keep from her and she suffers more. I cannot— I have to say something!”

“Look, I know, believe me I know but how do you think she’s gonna take this? She’s not gonna take it well! We’re doing her a favor. Her heart—”

“Neytiri. Jake.”

They both spun your direction way before you could even utter their name, for they heard you coming a mile away, and their twisted features somewhat eased at the sight of you and Jake plastered a smile while Neytiri’s lips tightened together into a thin line.

“Hey, angel.” In three long strides Jake reached you, kneeling down and looped his long arms around you, the tip of his pink, cat-like nose nudging your cheek, and you couldn’t deny his affection. Your arms instantly wrapped around his shoulders as he gave you a swift but soft kiss, and you couldn’t help but follow his lips, wanting a much longer kiss. But you internally groaned when he pulled back, his brows furrowed as he looked at you. “Watcha doing out here all alone? It’s not safe, Y/N—”

“Do you two have any idea where you should be right now?”

His frown dropped and his chest bowed with a deep breath. “I know we’re supposed to be at home right now but—”

“And yet you two are not—” he rose to his full height, back turned your way and one of his hands came to tangle into his locs. “Why aren’t you at home?”

Jake could only look at anything but you, but Neytiri did the opposite, her gaze punctured over your distressed face, ears twitching at the sound of your heartbeat, at the way you tried keeping a steady rhythm and balance in your voice. “You’re not going to say anything, aren’t you?”

Her lips parted, eyes saddening before alarming at the frantic increase of your heart. “Ma Jake — ma stxe’lan, mawey-”

Jake had already turned to you, rushing to your side and splayed a large palm over the small of your back. “Baby, c’mon breathe for us.”

“Y—you two knew—” Neytiri was on your other side, fingers soothing over your chest for she knew how an ache emerged there when you tried to speak with a frantic heart. “Lovely girl, you must breathe.” But your head shakes were equivalent to the speed your heart did, a muskiness of tears warping your vision. “You knew. You knew, you knew! That’s why you’re not here—”

“Angel, please. Just please, pause and breathe.” You gave in to the soothing circles their fingers did over your skin, inhaling and exhaling as best as you could despite the jabbing pain in the back of your throat. But right when you nearly let yourself fall into their arms, you pushed from their touch, and Neytiri’s eyes never left yours while Jake inspected if you were hurt.

“So I’m not…I'm not pregnant.” Jake’s head dipped down, and it surprised you when he stayed silent and Neytiri was the one to respond, her mouth pushed down imitating the frown that could’ve drawn together her said-brows, allowing it to morph that beautiful face of hers. “Kehe, tiyawn. ( no love ) You are not.”

It didn’t bring you any ounce of comfort, however, when it was her simple statement to corroborate your doubts. “And how long have you both known, huh?” you demanded, inhaling deeply.

“Your scent is….it resumed the same five days ago.”

“So, for five days, you both — not one but the TWO of you decided to keep this from me instead of being honest? Do we take part in lying now in this….whatever this is now?” Jake’s head snapped up at your last question, attempting to reach for you yet you declined, pushing his hands away while taking another step back. Both their tails swiveled in a distress-like matter as they stood to their full height, his more agitated and flinching from your shove while hers tried to keep steady, trying to contain herself from reaching for you. Hurt scrunched Jake’s face and his ears demolished at the sides of his head, and you deciphered their expressions in a second; never once had you denied their touch, and not having the privilege to touch you in this exact moment stirred them unwell.

“Angel, please lemme explain–”

“You need to stop telling her to keep things from me,” you snapped at him, then turned to her, “And since when do you listen to this idiot? My goodness, Neytiri!” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to compose yourself yet there’s a break in the octave of your hoarse voice when you whisper, “Do you guys even care about this? Is this some joke to you?”

Jake practically threw himself down on his knees before you, and in spite of your objections, both palms cupping your cheeks so very softly but desperately, and due to their size his fingers nearly curl around the sides of your head, soon falling over your shoulders. “N-no! We care about your wellbeing, it’s not some joke.”

“T-then why…why didn’t you say anything?” Neytiri, graceful even when in distress, crouched down, her legs ingeniously treading towards you, settling behind you and she slowly reached for you. A strangled breath left her throat and you realized she was neglecting her own stream of tears as yours were being swatted away by her fingertip the second they fell to your cheekbones. “We…we, your heart–”

“I didn’t want us hurting you like this, angel. Her as much as I didn’t want to cause you this pain.” Jake admitted, amber eyes focused on you when you looked up at him. “But, of course we…I did this anyway, and here you two are crying. I asked this of her, and I’m sorry. To both of you.” One of his hands reached to curl around the side of Neytiri’s trembling jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“You should’ve said something sooner.”

“Oeru txoa livu. (please forgive me)” Neytiri crooned softly, “My lovely girl, forgive me, forgive us for being skxawngs.” Her gentle kisses met your forehead, temple, your fluttering eyelids, then each of your cheeks, and lastly your lips. You allowed it, for the reason being that her lips – and his soft, hesitant touches – could perhaps be one of the few things to keep you anchored right now.

Of course, this result had been one not unexpected, nor was it unusual, for Dr. Mason had previously discussed the success rate of your procedure, providing you with statistics that were not the most promising. Despite this, you held onto a sliver of hope, reaching out for even a small connection between the two of you, in hopes to twine paths together. But faith was a funny and most curious companion when it came to you, remaining capricious and challenging, frequently draining and depleting you until you were left with little energy to fight back.

Jake looked at you with much rounder eyes, the misery within them finally seeping through your heart and sighed before reaching for him, and planted a very light kiss over his mouth in terms to ease him up. Though the emotion remained on his face, his ears stopped finicking and slightly twitched the very same time his mouth did so.

“Oel tsun fìtsenge ( I am going home. )” Neytiri’s hand captured your own negligently and stood up. You looked up at her honey-like orbs, and while tears still resided in both your eyes, you recognized what could be seen as relief in hers. Relief that the truth came to the surface despite the cost of sadness. “I will come with you, ma Y/N.” You smiled a bit and nodded, about to take a turn in leaving until Jake’s own hand tightly grasped yours and Neytiri’s. It was as if Jake’s entire being was intricately woven into the quivering grasp of your hands. As you gazed into his profound eyes, you could sense his fear growing. He was afraid that if he let you go without following you, he may never lay eyes on you again. It was an irrational fear, one that he surely knew deep down, but his mind was clouded by emotions. The moment he saw you both in tears, his rationale vanished. The tears that continued to stream down your face were a result of his deceit, and he could not bear to see you in such pain.

He gave both your hands a tight squeeze and a wobbly smile, “I’ll come home too.”

Once greeting and bidding the babies a good night’s sleep and Mo’at – giving her daughter a look that indicated a proper talk – took her leaving, once resided in the comfortable size of the hammock and enwrapped in their long limbs, you forfeited your body to them, and resentment fled from you. To be sincere, most of the whole time, resentment was not all directed towards your wife and husband ( though yes they do manage to frustrate the living hell out of you sometimes ), but most of it was pointedly aimed at yourself; your body, but most of it pointedly aimed at your so called strong heart.

Neytiri’s arms were fully encased around you, her lips sweetly falling over your temple over and over again as she rocked you in hopes to provide you with nothing but comfort, wanting only to bring what you always brought to them; peace.

Jake said nothing as his arm splayed over yours and Neytiri’s waist. His silence brought you to tilt your head up at him only to see he’d already been staring down at you. Reading Jake’s expressions was one you did with pride, and yet tonight you couldn’t fully unravel what was going on in that head of his. But a warmth washed his features for a moment before kissing your forehead, and it was then that you allowed your words to exhale up your throat; “I want to try again.”

Neytiri smiled softly down at you and gave you a firm nod, while Jake simply hummed and stared up at the night sky as he tucked your head beneath his chin and pulled Neytiri closer, both unaware of the single tear gliding down his cheek. “Like Neytiri said; your desires are our desires, angel.”

Months in Pandora carried on an atmosphere filled with prosperity and peace after the First Pandoran War, the war of Pandora, the RDA-Na’vi conflict, or the Time of Great Sorrow, as the Na’vi titled it as. And while mourning those whose lives had been lost to the Sky People came with a heavy process, now was a time to thrive, to live, to celebrate the new life given to the Na’vi.

The wondrous news of a seed of life planted within Neytiri’s womb had been taken as a gift from Eywa, any child was of course, yet this was the first birth indicated after the mournful events, and this was a token for the dedication the People stayed firmed to for Eywa’s child, Pandora.

“What does a fortress mean to you, Tiri and Jake?” She laid beside the two longer figures, her hand enveloped one of Neytiri’s that laid flat over her slightly swollen stomach, Jake’s atop theirs as well. Her eyes admired Neytiri for a while, then turned to Jake and both, too, admired the human in return. It had been months after going into battle with the RDA’s people, and the three — the strong, enthralling bond now revealed from the exterior of their hearts and shun brightly upon the ancient lights of Pandora’s deep blue sky — decided to spend their celebration together, a silent prayer for those lost to the destruction and chaos brought upon them, a silent prayer being said to Eywa for gifting them this moment of life and peace.

Jake shifted to lay on his side, his other hand reaching the girl’s delicate side softly while the other hand stroked over Neytiri’s belly, with the simplicity of making them tremble below his touch, creating the motion for a while.

Neytiri nestled closer, lips elevating when she led her hand and placed it over the human’s chest, feeling the rise and fall created, inhaling the curious yet addicting flowery aroma wafted through her, ears picking up the melody Y/N’s heart tuned. It was absurd to her, when she first heard the news of how her love was thought to carry a weak heart, and here it was; Beating loud and clear. “Fortress means a place of safety?”

She hummed in response. “Safety is one of the meanings of it…but there’s also a sense of strength. Protection. A place of peace for one. Maybe even emotional resilience. Refuge and stability.” She giggled at the sensation of Neytiri’s cheek nuzzling against the skin of her shoulder, head turning to press a feather-like kiss over the azure tones of her forehead. “I admire the way you speak of things, ma Y/N.” she muttered, pupils growing within those golden hues peering up at Y/N.

The girl had an approximate, clear picture of Neytiri’s face, of the way bioluminescent specks glittering the pretty clashes of her sky and imperial blue complexion, and all the respiration once provided in her lungs seemed to have been pummeled away the longer she stared. Y/N’s soft grin clashed with the neutral twinkles of her eyes, “And I admire having you here with me, my love.”

Jake was quiet the entire time before offering his own response, for while his eyes took in the two women that had become his haven, his mind too wrapped up in the plagues of the current battle against the Sky People, if what, who he’d gained in this precise moment could have been torn from his grasp. The what if’s led to losing Neytiri if it hadn’t gone right, the child in her womb, the condition Y/N had, the possibility of losing her. The death of Grace, his dear friend who once despised him and grew to love him and care for him and Y/N. The haunting of many of the warrior’s deaths because of this fight, because of his acts and leads. It taunted him, it nearly tried tugging him back into a darkness he’d once been in.

“Come back to us, Jake.”

Aching was his heart yet he didn’t project it. Not when his Neytiri’s fingers reached and gently stroked across the side of his scalp, soon threading down the cascades of braids fallen over his shoulder. Not when he witnessed the content emitting from the two laying beside him. Not when peace now resided in their minds and thawed away those emotions. Not when they looked at him with the warmest of smiles, waiting for his response. So, he continued brushing the pads of his fingers down their skin, and he waited for the inevitable shiver to ripple through them, humming in satisfaction from the way her skin prickled beneath goosebumps.

“Fortress is the structure of those who give you both peace and strength and refuge, right?” They nodded, he hoisted himself much closer to them, his long arm enveloping them both.

“You became peace, angel, that heart of yours became my peace,” Y/N shuddered beneath his touch on her neck, hues boring into his ardent golden ones and his soft smile. He turned towards Neytiri, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. “When we first came here, you became our refuge and strength, Neytiri,” Her name was enough to indicate that nickname that solely defined her; goddess of nature. Endearing it was, the way it perfected from his lips as they gently pressed over hers.

“You two, you girls are the embodiment of what fortress means to me. And this little bean right here,” his palm flattened over Neytiri’s womb, a fatherly sense blooming within his heart, “Is a part of our fortress.”

“Ma Jake…” Her smiling lips parted with a slow exhale, gazing at him in gentleness, and Y/N couldn’t help but giggle bashfully at the way he placed a firm kiss over her forehead. He grinned at their expressions, enjoying that one feeling that always followed every time he left them flustered. “It’s true though. This right here, is a fortress. One without the other is just bound to fall apart, and I don’t ever want to experience that again without my girls.”

“Pray this to Eywa, Jake. That my heart has the opportunity to give us peace in this fortress. That we have even more purpose to push forward.”

He hoisted himself on his elbow and pulled the girl between him and Neytiri, reached for her palm, and extended it to Y/N’s chest, his hand soon following afterwards. Clamorous, wavering, yet full of life was the girl’s heart. “Give me your hand,” he instructed, and her dainty palm was led to Neytiri’s chest; unnatural, graceful, firm. He then took her smaller hand, and placed it over his own swift, wild, vigorous.

“You feel this, Y/N? This heart?” She inhaled deeply only for her to catch Neytiri’s scent mingled with Jake’s — musky, sweet, earthy, rain incense, him, her, him, her, them — her eyes darting between his before descending into his face as she nodded. “Mine beats like this because of Neytiri, because of you.”

“Mine in return wavers for you both as well.”

Neytiri resonated with a soft giggle, bashfulness flushing her cheeks and reflected the position Jake was in, laying on her side. “Our hearts, they are one, ma Jake.”

“Hell…yeah they are.” He breathed out. The horizontal of her nose nuzzled with his, and a purr-like sound rumbled through his throat at the sensation, sighing in content when her mouth brushed over his cheek and her hand slid over his jaw while his own rested over her waist. Y/N could only watch from her spot between them, affection sprouting from her heart and spiraling throughout her body. That was until Neytiri pulled away slowly, Wide pupils colliding with hers and leaned in.

“seykxel txe’lan…” The flash of stark incisors gleamed, framed with the brilliance of a smile Y/N or Jake never thought to have seen at the beginning of their encounters. “Do not ever deny this heart’s strength. I have seen it, I have heard it. I have felt it. We feel her right now. She is and gives love, ma Y/N.” Kisses stroked over the girl’s skin. They shivered in the touches Jake now gave them both, each of them feeling an overwhelming wave consume them within the intimacy of this moment.

Breathlessly, the two beautiful women before him retracted from each other, and all he could do was stare. Stare, take in, and find peace and strength within it. Taking both their hands in his, a sweet kiss brushed over their knuckles; and that rascal was devious with his actions, letting his lips stray over the skin for just a second too long, tracing the way Neytiri’s stark incisors sunk into her lower lip, and Y/N could only squirm from the single act of affection.

He pulled Y/N into his chest, and Neytiri let out a laugh at the squeal from the girl until he too pulled her in his arms and he was adjusted between them now, his fingers climbing over their bare shoulders, their arms, thumbs stopping over the flesh of their cheeks. He stared in wonder at the way the colors of Neytiri identified with his own, at how Y/N’s neutral, flush tones contrasted with them beautifully before pecking both their foreheads.

Y/N shifted so her cheek now laid over his chest, while Neytiri’s head found solace beneath Jake’s chin, her braids brushing against the angle of his jawline. “So…are there any other purposes we’ll have forged in our fortress?”

Y/N’s head popped up, “Babies, duh!” Neytiri’s ears hitched at the word, shooting up to look at Jake with the equivalent of the sun’s bright rays, their flames combining and burning every ounce within Jake’s body as he liquified right before them.“That is a great purpose she has said. Eywa has been quick to bless us.”

He sighed and pressed them back into him, a hand falling over Neytiri’s belly. “Forgot how you two are so into those.”

“Ma sa’nok, wait no don’t say anything.” You told your mother-in-law as her palms rested over your belly while your eyes screwed shut, nerves jittering before her low chuckle filled your ears. “Wait, don’t say anything yet! Jake’s not even here yet!”

A tiny palm lightly smacked your cheek and your brows furrowed. “My baby Kiri, that hurt.” Another followed, and a squeal like giggle filled your ears making it impossible to not grin and peek at the baby girl in Neytiri’s arms beaming her little teeth at you. “Because you’re so cute, I forgive you.” you poked her cheek earning another squeal before closing your eyes once more.

Neytiri’s infectious giggles clearly reflected the sheer elation and boundless happiness that radiated from within you. “It does not matter if Mother confirms it, my lovely girl. It is more than obvious.”

“But how do you even know—”

“Pardon me, ‘ite,” Mo’at’s throat cleared from her current kneeling position, “May I remind you that Tsahik’s confirmation does indicate it.” You couldn’t help but snicker at her tone of voice towards her daughter, hearing the sigh that followed afterwards. “Srane, Mother. Forgive me.”

Heavy steps and breaths filled your home, and it was then that you let your eyes open just to see a breathless, soaked Jake with little, giggling and soaked Neteyam bouncing happily in his arms. “I’m here! We’re here! D-did we miss it, did she confirm it already?”

Every woman present – including Kiri – could only stare at them in question as to why the two were brimming with water, Neytiri’s eyes narrowing at her husband. “What did you do to my son?” He only waved her off, propping down beside you to drop a kiss to your cheek, then to Kiri’s, then to Mo’at who could only look at him bewildered, and lastly Neytiri’s. “Sorry, sorry, sorry – don’t worry about it, your kid is safe and sound and happy – look at baby boy,” he peered down at him with a broad grin and Neteyam only smiled widely at his mamas, reaching for you. “See? He’s fine – now what’s happening?”

“Y/N wants to confirm if she is with child.” Mo’at mused, thumbs tapping over the skin of your belly. He groaned out a chuckle, and you threw him a glare. “Angel, you are pregnant.”

“But how can you guys know? You don’t know!”

He hunched himself forward until his mouth was ghosting over the shell of your ear, “We know your body, baby,” the point of his ear flickered against your cheek, “And this angel’s flawless body carries a baby in it,” he pulled back, a quirk between his brows and adjusted Neteyam in his arms as the little boy tried crawling over your laying body. “Well, technically it’s a little bean right now, not even a baby yet. It’s still forming, no, Tsahik? A brain, holes, eyes and nose, oh! Then a heart and–”

“Ma Jake.”

“Babygirl. I’m just sayin’, you’re pregnant.” He grinned widely, glancing at a squirming Neteyam and Kiri who was still in Neytiri’s arms. “Besides, these two constantly wanna be with their mommy Y/N and that means something…look at ‘em.” Kiri found herself free from her mother’s hold, perfectly crawling your way and laid her hands over your cheeks, curiosity shining those big golden eyes as to why you were laying down and her grandmother’s hands were on your stomach. And Neteyam, he simply rested his round head over your chest, cooing softly at you while the pink of his nose twitched as he gave you a gummy smile.

You couldn't help but marvel at the sight and the innocence of these precious beings. Their tiny noses, azure full cheeks, and fluttering eyelashes were all a testament to the beauty and perfection of nature. You felt her heart swell as you watched them, a feeling so overwhelming and pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

But you blinked them away, stroking their cheeks and sniffled, full of hope you glanced up at the Tsahik. “Well?”

Her mouth pursed and cheekbones hoisted, eyes glinted with joy. “Srane. ( yes ) Eywa shines upon you, ma’ite.” A gasp hoyed itself from your lips, giving her a swift but tight hug and you grinned widely. “Tiri, Jake, I–I’m–”

“Srane, you are with child, dearest!” You sat up and watched how a sweet, exciting grin took over Neytiri’s lush mouth, the mouth you couldn't help but launch yourself too, uncaring to your mother-in-law’s presence who voiced an amused grunt and chuckle as she gathered her grandchildren in her arms. “I gather you want me to take these two out for a while?”

Jake chuckled half heartedly and ruffled his kids’ hair with a nod. “If it’s not so much trouble for you, please.” She gave him a bow of her head, and stood up with the two in her arms. “Congratulations, Jakesully …take care of her.”

She left, and he was met with the sight of his wives’ giggling with one another, you straddled over her legs as she held you close, both brimming with immense joy. He walked your way, his eyes locked on Neytiri’s smiling ones and you turned to look at him with that bright grin of yours. “Jake, my love.”

“Angel…” He crouched down and firmed his hands to the ground as he leaned closer to your face. Your eyes darted between each feature of his as he reflected your own actions. He then plummeted when you jumped over his abdomen, tilting back under the firm pecks being met with his nose, his cheeks, his neck; his fingers winding over your hips, smoothing the skin there, and his smile lustred with delight. Delight that increased its rays when Neytiri settled beside him; delight that was a response of you and hers, for both were loved immensely by him, and that love would only increase within this fortress forever. It’s perhaps his greatest privilege yet in acceptance of this second chance, to provide love and protection for their fortress.

“We’re gonna be parents again!” Neytiri let out another airy laugh at your squeal, “Thank Eywa, we are!” and wrapped her arms around you once more to pull you into another sweet, much more passionate kiss. Jake smiled to himself, ears perked and let his lips fall over the toned juncture of Neytiri’s collarbone while his hand rubbed lower down your hip bone. The longer the kiss continued, the greedier his touches became, and the more your crave for them flourished.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Jake.” Lips, swollen and lush, blew out a sharp exhale when his long fingers dipped below your thin lower garments while his other hand teasingly curled around the length of Neytiri’s anticipating tail. “Apparently I am.”

…………

“Okay, well…” Dr. Mason, brow creased in what seemed to be perplexed, and the way her tone carried awareness managed to augment your atmosphere; something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right. Ordinarily, her voice was one to convey tranquility to all doubts that assisted you the second you showed up for an appointment, but today, that tranquility had vanished, her words frail as if with one wrong term it would break without hesitation. “There has been…responses from your ultrasound,”

The persistence of this quietness spiked an abundance of hesitations and emotions consumed your mind into torment and propelled it to a precipice, plunging into a tumultuous river of dreadful possibilities. Both your spouses were able to sense the unpleasant adjustment in your state of mind.

“From the looks of it, no heartbeat has been ascertained. Now, I don’t want us to jump to any conclusions yet but–”

“No heart?” Neytiri’s curt voice interjected, an anger already detected and soaring from her while Jake only furrowed his brow as he processed this, and you didn’t have much choice but to let them do and say whatever it was as your mind’s thoughts consumed you whole. “How is there no heart? Tsahik said there is a child in her, and that more than enough proves there is heart. Your machine is wrong”

“What? There’s something wrong with the baby or…?”

“Look, sometimes a heart isn’t able to be heard this early in a pregnancy–”

“Neytiri’s mother said there’s a baby there.” Jake shook his head in unacceptance of her words, hand gripping yours tightly. “There was a heart there yesterday, and the day before too. Now you’re saying there’s no heart? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sully, if you’d let me explain instead of constantly cutting me off, you would find me saying that this may not be what you think it is, which is a miscarriage.”

“Miscarriage?”

She nodded towards the confusion of Neytiri’s face. “Indicating the loss of the fetus from not developing properly.”

All that now recapitulated was that very word; Miscarriage. Your heart could not take this pregnancy, and this baby had to pay the price of your heart’s weakness. Your breakfast menaced to coil at the mere thought Of course there was another thing your body was unable to maintain. At some point your mind was inattentive, completely muffling the heated exchange between your wife and the doctor, Norm coming in to try and calm Jake down.

You gulped thickly, welcoming the throbbing pain it gave your throat, and let your feet guide you out of this small facility and into Pandora’s forest, though not without Neytiri and Jake tailing. “Baby, Y/N….”

You didn’t even bother to question how quick they reached you while Jake’s arm gate kept you from walking any further into the woods. “She hasn’t confirmed anything yet, angel, let’s–”

“J-Jake move– I don’t wanna go back—” Cold, hot, bothered, confused, shuddering under the coat of your perspiration and your cascade of tears. Neytiri had knelt down and cradled you to her chest, her own tears of frustration and grief spilled over her cheeks. Childbirth had not been one of easiness for the Na’vi, but never had this…thing the humans call miscarriage had ever happened. “Shh, seykxel txe’lan. Breathe–”

“Do not call me that.” you spat out with a strangled gasp, seething at those two words falling from Neytiri’s lips. “My heart gave out on our baby– how can you still call me that? Can you even feel another heartbeat?” Her hold on you consolidated, hand soothing over your head while Jake’s eyes squeezed shut and shook his head as he reached for you. “Just yours. And Neytiri’s, and mine. That’s enough for us.”

“How can you say something like that?” You backed away from his touch, and Neytiri too couldn’t help but pin her eyes on him infuriated and hurt. He couldn’t help but hastily turn to each of his sides, eyes searching and darting around for his wrongdoing. “Jake, we have lost our child.”

He could only frown at Neytiri’s words, and his heart was tugged on as your face obscured into her chest and tightened your arms around her. “Baby,” his tone was pleading and hushed, gently grabbing your shoulders, insinuating for you to spare him a glimpse of those eyes of yours. “Angel, I just want you to be alright…c’mere.”

You gave in and fell into his arms, not able or caring to conceal your tears. “I just lost my baby, idiot,” you sniffled, pushing your cheek against his shoulder blade. “I’m not alright.”

That night, an indescribable agony writhed up your spine and ruptured its way to your battered heart, seizing it, constricting the organ until a gut-wrenching wail relinquished from deep within your lungs, one that startled the children from their peaceful slumber, Kiri’s wails assisting your distressing chorus. It made Jake and Neytiri briskly emerge from their current position around you, peering down at you in alert then at the kids.

“Neytiri.”

“Srane ( yes ).” Neytiri’s warmth was hesitant to depart from you yet eventually did, and you briefly thought it was to go and calm Neteyam and Kiri while Jake grabbed ahold of your face. “C’mon angel. Talk to me, what’s happening?”

“Toilet…bag…outside…something.” were the only words you could muster out from the seeping torment pooling down your abdomen, and by the twisted look upon your face, Jake’s brows shot up and deftly gathered you in his arms before climbing out of the hammock. “Ma Jake, what is wrong with her!”

“She’s sick – Neytiri, get the kids out for a bit.” His jaw already quivered at the sounds writhing within your throat, holding you close as he settled down on the floor. She didn’t question him, lightly bouncing ‘Teyam and Kiri in her arms and gave you two a brief glance before she walked out of their home. He propped you over a seat-like log, letting out a shaky breath as he watched you, waited for you to say something, anything.

Your muscles constricted, coiled, assembling to split with each throat-rippling cry. The urgency of your bleeding intensified without limits as you sat on the ground with your head dipped down, tears streaming down your contorted face. Jake shifted before you, ears and tail flicking in distress as he knelt beside you, making every effort to comfort you, even though both of you understood that the intensity of your current ordeal was not easily appeased.

“What can I do to help! Y/N, c’mon say something! Lemme help you, please!”

Your eyes clamped shut, teeth gritting together, knuckles draining their color and you shook your head violently, giving him the answer of your refusal of help. “Angel…please.”

Expressing precisely what you desired from him proved to be a challenging endeavor. Although you simply sought his — your babies, and Neytiri’s presence, articulating this need became a formidable task. Jake, your protecting husband, grew restless, grappling with the fear of being unable to alleviate your anguish. As he knelt helplessly by, tears threatened to fall down his face but he contained them, and the weight of your bloodshed enveloped his azure tones. He bore witness to one of his darkest fears materializing before his eyes.

“What is happening?” Neytiri came into view, eyes alert and frantic, her arms discarded of the children giving Jake the notion they were with Mo’at. A soft gasp left her at the sight of you quivering and rocking yourself, Jake’s hand rubbing circles on your back as misery scrunched his face. “Y/N…”

“Tiri…” the broken whimper of you calling for her anguished her, and wasted no time in latching to your side, her fingers brushing away the damp curls pressed over your forehead, “Lovely girl…it is alright, we are here…” She didn’t care for the red tainting your skin, she gathered your small frame in her hold, carefully tilted your head over her chest and rocked you in her arms as you reacted quickly to grasp onto her. “I-it’s not comfortable…”

The passage of time brought no respite even with Neytiri’s hold on you, and your unease persisted for hours. Desperation led you to crawl out of Neytiri’s lap and onto the woven floor on hands and knees, seeking relief. Brief solace was discovered momentarily as you assumed a facing down fetal position, attempting to shield yourself from the relentless onslaught of your rigid uterus on your fortitude.

Jake had left to make a quick stop at the human outpost, upon your request for something cold to consume, maybe something similar to ice in the mini freezers they kept there, though he felt disinclined to follow your orders. He didn’t want to leave, but Neytiri gave him the assurance that you will be fine, that she will keep close with everything you did. He listened, of course, undoubtedly peeking his enhanced hearing in from the distance. You then requested for a bath while he was out to which she complied, hoping the water’s calmness would offer some relief. A soreness took over, yet you welcomed the capacity of it, letting the saltiness of your tears combined with its droplets pelting your skin. You still trembled from its temperature, yet the act worked somehow.

Neytiri’s heart ached upon witnessing the moon’s glow over your bare, fragile figure practically sinking within the water. “My love…”

“W-where‘s Kiri and Teyam?”

Her mouth twitched into a tiny smile, striding herself towards you. “They are with Mother. They wanted to sleep a bit more.”

“ ‘m sorry for waking them up. And for disturbing your sleep, Neytiri.” Words, meek and muffled within your knees, were heard clearly by the Omaticayan woman who sighed in response, “Ma Y/N…” Your legs had now slowly disappeared into the water and you were seated up, round eyes glimmering with tears peering back at her as she settled behind you, her thumb reaching to dab away the fallen tears. “Never apologize for this.”

Her neck craned forward to softly kiss your damp cheek, then your temple before offering you a safe haven within her neck, your meek whimpers flattening her ears and your tears soaking her skin.

She held you, swayed you side to side, allowing you to crumble completely in her embrace, words softly encouraging you to let it out. “W-why does my heart hate me?”

“Ma seykxel txe’lan,” she whispered, eyes illuminating her own shed of tears, and permitted her heart to shatter into pieces at how you believed such things of your own heart.

“I know I’m not perfect, but I try doing things right. Why is it never enough? Why am I not enough? Why is my heart not playing the part you call it? Be strong? I try to convince myself as much as you are that it is, but it’s not.” Shards were each syllable of your words, and you welcomed its scorching slices within your flaring throat.

Once more, it made you contemplate your path with faith; was it not an entity capable of breeding only eternal misery? Hadn't all your engagement with it generated outcomes such as these? You accepted then, that it had never been a positive path at all, and your reliance on it diminished only from your own gullibility.

Neytiri’s nose nuzzled against your cheek as she continued to hold you, and she cried for you, for the loss of your child. “You are more than enough. And your heart is strong enough to endure this, my seykxel txe’lan. Do not fault it, do not fault yourself. Eywa will and continues to shine down on you with just your existence.”

“Neytiri.”

She continued despite the protest in your tone, devoted to engraving her belief in your head. “You did nothing wrong. You are perfect as you are. I will not ever stop calling you seykxel txe’lan, because you are. My seykxel txe’lan, my perfect, lovely girl. No fault on you.”

Her lips fall over every part of your face, including your fluttering eyelids as tears once more kiss your waterline. Both of you felt another presence, and you shuddered out a breath when Jake’s body dipped into the water in front of you, encasing you and Neytiri between his bent legs. You peered up, being met with his gentle smile and amber irises. “C’mere, my beautiful girls.”

He was quick to pick up on the swaying Neytiri created around your frame, and his arms winded around her with your much smaller body between them, making it easy for him to hold the both of you and continue the slow sways Neytiri motioned. “May be a bad time to mention but…the ice melted on my way back, angel.”

Your whispered giggle against his neck made their ears flicker, mouths smiling softly down at you. “ ‘T’s okay…I have everything I need right here.” They held you like this until sunrise, the three of you allowing and welcoming every ounce of pain derived, and Neytiri continued whispering sweet reassurances while Jake stroked your skin until you fell into a deep slumber from all the blood, sweat, and tears.

…………

12 months later

“My strong warrior, come here! ‘Teyam, come here!” You patted your thighs, beckoning the now walking 1 month old baby boy to run your way. He flashed you an adorable smile, little legs leading your way with each encouraging word. Though it seemed his sister thought this to be some sort of baby race, because she managed to speed those little feet of hers and land in your arms with a loud squeal as you lost balance and fell on your bum onto the grassy ground with her in your hold.

“My brilliant Kiri,” you laughed at her tactics, how her gabbling words filled your ears as she reached for your cheeks. “Sa’nu!” ( mommy ) she exclaimed, and threw her brother a cheeky smile when he caught up to her. “Kiri, kehe! Sa’nu!” ( no! Mommy! )

You grunted out a chuckle as both shoved the other to be in their mommy’s arms. The two were practically the size of a human toddler, but you still managed to prop them both upon your thighs and nuzzled kisses to their round cheeks. “Relax, you two. There is plenty of me to go around for my beautiful babies.” You grinned, and Kiri could only let out a ‘humph’ as Neteyam triumphantly snuggled his head into your chest. He had the custom to hold a look of concentration in those big eyes of his, always softening when he found what he was looking for and nuzzled himself deeper; it was a tactic you adored of him, a tactic that reminded you of his father.

“Good morning, my little one! It’s your mommy too! Just listen to your older siblings, fighting over me. Looks like you may have competition.” You cooed down to your stomach, glancing up at the way Neteyam pulled away and Kiri looked at you curiously. There was quite a difference to your stomach now within a few weeks, a peculiar, little roundness that bursted you with joy, and the hormonal shifts were noticeable, especially with the way these two behaved around each other and you.

“Sa’nu?” You brushed your fingers through Kiri’s bangs as she stared down, her little brows furrowed in question as she babbled down to the petite swell of your belly. “That’s your little baby sister or brother, Kiri.” You whispered excitedly, and her little mouth pucker brought laughter from you. You turned to Neteyam who had been awfully quiet, his big honey eyes squinting at you then at what his sister had now been babbling to.

“Prrnen? ( baby ?)” He questioned, his tiny blue finger pointing and you grinned. “Srane, ‘Teyam. Prrnen.” His face carried a cute ponder-like expression, and a small smile broke out before his stomach propped over your thigh and laid a palm over your belly. “Prrnen!”

Neytiri, standing from a small distance as she prepared her bow and arrow to gather some fish, brought her gaze up to look at the scene before her, a warm smile decorating her features as her eyes twinkled in happiness. She had been longing for this, for you to be with child, and she was sure her prayers to Eywa had been heard, thanking her with every second for this wonderful blessing. Many complications and struggles happened over the months of course, and there were moments where she thought you perhaps were about to give up in fulfilling this lovely dream of yours, yet here you were, a heart happier and stronger than ever.

Jake was currently sitting over a rock in silence, and in his hands were a small blade and wood as he expertly dragged the sharp tool into it, shaping it into a figure for his kids. His locs, loose and wildly ascended over his shoulders, swayed at the head tilt he gave your way. “5 weeks. Ain’t it a bit too early to call it a baby?”

“Ma Jake.” Neytiri hissed, shooting him a pointed glare.

Kiri tore herself from you, giving your belly one final pat before wobbling through the shallow waters and towards her father. “Daddy!” He placed his items down and pulled her onto her lap with a smile. “Hey baby girl…right it’s too soon to call that a prrnen?”

“No, it’s not.” You rolled your eyes at his grumble, returning your focus on your stomach. “That’s your grumpy sempu ( daddy ), baby. He’s been grumpy for quite some time now, and no one knows why.” Your voice dropped to a mysterious whisper, grinning as Neteyam released bubbles of giggles against you. “But don’t pay him no mind, he loves you just as much as we do.”

She was unable to resist such a moment, and with that Neytiri placed her sempul’s ( father ) bow down, and rushed into the small lake, right where you happened to be seated in. “Yawntutsyìps.” ( little loved ones ) she crooned, a palm residing over your stomach while the other ruffled Neteyam’s dark hair. “Sa’nok!” She beamed that beautiful smile of hers, one that complimented her every feature and you hummed as she gave you a gentle kiss. “Ma seykxel txe’lan…”

“And this right here, is your other mama, strong and gorgeous Neytiri.” You grinned at how she stroked the skin, a hint of amusement shining her golden eyes at how you whispered sweet nothings to the life you nurtured within your womb. Engaging in conversations with your unborn baby became one of your cherished pastimes after discovering your pregnancy. You often found yourself speaking to your baby in the mornings or during moments of free time, despite Jake’s stoned expressions, the one he was doing in this exact moment as he walked towards you with Kiri in his hold, happily toying with the unfinished figure her father was working on.

Neytiri took part in talking to your stomach as well, and when Jake was present for it, you both always ended up with his sharp gaze on you, inspecting, the usual mirth coloring his irises completely washed away with the subtle glare he gave. It did brew some sort of uncomfortable feeling in you, but you or Neytiri never brought the issue up, and he never provided a reason behind it.

“We’re all very excited to meet you soon, right Tiri? Right Jake?”

Neytiri kissed your cheek, chuckling when Neteyam crawled into her lap but still kept his palm over your stomach. “Srane, lovely girl. We are very excited.”

A tiny smile flickered across Jake’s face as he crouched down beside you, balancing Kiri on his thigh. “I’m happy because my girls and kids are excited. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Water droplets had soothed beautifully down the flexing muscles of his large thighs right before your eyes, and something about him carrying one of your children made your insides twist. The subtle smirk you offered him was a familiar one, one that made his brow hitched. “You look nice.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He muttered, releasing Kiri as she tried writhing from his hold to go join her brother. He took liberty in scooting and settling down really close to you, to the point where his chin rested over the top of your head.

“Bet I could make you feel nice. With my mouth, though, of course.”

Neytiri, her cobalt tones shimmering delightfully under the sun’s peeking light, smirked at your act and words, picking up on the low groan rumbling in Jake’s throat.The way she stared at you made you stride your tongue over your lower lip and smile sweetly at her. “My pretty Tiri.”

A lust consumed those eyes as her face slightly flushed at the nickname. Neteyam found himself sitting beside Kiri in the water, and Neytiri took a chance in shifting closer, her hand reaching to grope the expanse of your thigh. She smiled, pleased at the way her palm practically enveloped your flesh, the way it sizzled beneath her touch, and she had to keep her canines from sinking into her lower lip at the sound you made.

“Choose your words wisely, yawnetu. ( loved one )” she mused, and Jake’s hot breath fanned over the skin below your jawline, his own palm rested over your stomach and you shuddered. “Yeah, listen to our pretty Tiri,” his tone was mocking, and he snickered at how her teasing glower. “wouldn’t wanna do anything to harm it. Or that heart of yours.”

He pecked your flustered cheek before standing up and easily brought you to your feet as well and Neytiri gathered Kiri and Neteyam’s little hands in hers. “C’mon now, let’s go home.”

…………

The Omaticayan people always welcomed and celebrated the cherishing birth of new life. New life unraveled new beginnings, a flourishing prosperity for their clan, and a gift from Eywa herself. Especially if that new life, that gift sprung from their leader, Olo’eyktan, once known as Toruk Makto, Jake Sully and his wife, Palulukan Makto, a warrior, Neytiri te Suli. The Na’vi were mystified when the new life didn’t come from Neytiri herself, but you, Y/N te Suli, and of course, they thought it had not been possible for you to birth one of them, yet you nor Jake and Neytiri knew if this new life brewing inside you will come out as one of them if you consider the options you’d taken. But the confirmation and approval of Eywa through their Tsahik alleviated those questioning doubts, and they had immediately wished to celebrate and honor this news.

The decision rested on their leader, Olo’eyktan Jake Sully, who, though initially hesitant, ultimately gave his approval, driven by a sense of obligation and devotion to Neytiri and you.

Neytiri retorted, her hands delicately rearranging Jake's thick dreadlocks, "You must don the customary attire befitting the role of Olo’eyktan, ma Jake." Jake, visibly frustrated, responded with a sigh, "I understand, but it feels so damn heavy!"

“That’s why your shoulders are so squared and strong though.” You took your focus off of Kiri’s hair who was perched on your lap and dozing off, and grinned over your shoulder. You watched as his current frowning face perked at your words. Once taming her husband’s hair and giving him a quick peck, she made her way towards you. Her chest covering radiated with vibrant feathers, harmoniously contrasting the velvety azure of her skin. Around her neck, a cascade of necklaces stood as poignant symbols of her familial ties, while her dark braids intertwined with an array of multicolored trinkets, creating a captivating visual tapestry.

"Would you permit me to do your hair, lovely girl?" She whispered against your lips, her fingers gently caressing the strands that frame your face. With a subtle bite on your lip, you nodded in agreement. "If it's not too much trouble—"

"Anything connected to you is never troubling," she replied, giving the subtle roundness of your belly a soothing rub, and you chuckled in response. As she positioned herself behind you, her skilled fingers meticulously parted and wove through the locks of your head. "Jake's influence is quite evident on you," you teased, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at your comment.

"No one can surpass the original," Jake quipped as he playfully held Neteyam upside down, attempting to keep him still while putting on a necklace crafted by his proud father.

"Neteyam, stay still, boy. Calm your ass down!" He huffed, prompting Neytiri to hiss at him. "How many times have I told you to watch your mouth?" Neytiri's loud remark awakened Kiri from her nap, her hazy eyes and ears flickering. "Mommy? Sa’nok?"

"Shh, it's okay, my brilliant girl," you reassured, gently pulling her head back onto your chest. "Daddy's just being noisy right now." Kiri gave you a lazy smile before shooting her unaware father a glare and closing her eyes once more.

"Kiri, 'ite, wake up," Neytiri whispered to her. "After I'm done with sa’nu’s hair, we must go, okay? We must get ready for the festivity." In response, Kiri whined and dramatically sprawled herself on the ground, eliciting laughter from you while Neytiri sighed. "Just like your father, unfortunately."

His laughter echoed, a genuine sound that elicited a contented hum from you. It had been weeks since you last heard him laugh so authentically, and now you eagerly pursued the lingering echoes, entwining yourself in the lasting warmth it brought. And at this Neytiri’s mouth lifted, giving your shoulders a squeeze, already knowing how much this would please you, and her as well if she was to be sincere.

“We don’t have to go, y’know? I mean, being chief gives me the right to cancel so…if you aren’t up for it. ‘t’d make Kiri less dramatic and this one would calm down.” He crooned at the boy that curled in his arms, finger stroking below his ear to his cheek, and Neteyam’s sudden soft babbles filled the atmosphere.. He then stood in front of you, crouching down to gather Kiri in his arms, though not before pecking your cheek then Neytiri’s mouth, at this you flinched as you watched; the affection he gave his children or Neytiri shouldn’t stir any ounce of jealousy in you, it was absurdly irrational from your part and yet completely out of your control. By reason of the long while Jake had let himself hold, kiss, touch you for no long enough to lose himself in you like he usually would, and hurt resided in you at this.

“Syor, Y/N.” ( relax ) Neytiri’s words whispered within your ear, already sensing the spike to your heart rate. “Do not let him get to you.” Though reassurance laced her voice, irritation towards Jake edged it. You only sighed and tore your eyes from Jake; deciding to point your focus on your vitality contending against your contemporary condition of debility. An inkling of it possibly disrupting your night tormented your mind. “Just because you’re chief, marine, doesn’t mean you can go and ruin this for others. This is important, especially to me. You know this. Or are us and your people celebrating the coming of our child not important to you? That’s what you’re trying to say?”

He swallowed hard at the old nickname you regarded him with, but he rolled his eyes. “I think everyone present here knows that what you’re saying is nowhere near what I just or have been saying, baby. Or is it, Neytiri?” Both him and you fixated your gaze on the lithe woman behind you, brows jumping as her mouth formed an ‘o’ before releasing a laugh that indicated how ridiculous this seemed to her. “Ma Jake, do not ask me any silly questions, or to our Y/N right now. Settle your children down before Mother comes to help place your attire.”

Mo’at greeted each one of you, Neytiri assisting her mother in delicately but perfectly descended the traditional feathered piece over his shoulders, and Jake caught a glimpse of the smirk flickering yours and Neytiri’s mouth as the head piece tangled around his ears. But he said nothing, simply shaking his head and prepared for whatever was bound to happen next.

The night had already commenced to a vertiginous beginning; the loud rumbles of the drums, the chants, the brightness of multicolored lights, the People, the strained conversations. You’d think it wouldn’t overwhelm you the way it did considering this is precisely what you experience almost every night, and that overwhelm you carried had Jake tear away his entire attention from his People and fixated on you who’d been seated right in front of him, his jaw tightening in hence to contain the ‘Told you so’ sitting at the tip of his tongue. Neteyam and Kiri, sleepiness completely washed from their system and replaced with a bundle of energy as they squealed and ran around with the other children, and Neytiri had been engaged in a conversation with her mother that you didn’t want to interrupt seeing the serious demeanor they carried.

Fatigue settled deep within your bones and not even a whole hour had passed. You seeked for something, someone familiar among the dancing blue bodies, and you practically beamed when spotting dear old Norm, panting and laughing from the dancing he partook in, walking your way.

“Y/N/N! What’re you doin’ here just sitting? You should be celebrating—” His brows crashed when he noticed your drained expression, your posture, and crouched down to gently place a large palm over your forehead. “You alright? Hey, what’s wrong?”

You mustered a small smile and nodded under his hold, bringing both hands to softly grab his own and removed it from your forehead. “Don’t worry, Norm. I’m good! Just a little tired, but that’s it.”

Norm had grown to become a good friend to both you and Jake, and he’d been very attentive to your health and supportive of your pregnancy, he’d been a listening ear for you when things got a bit fickle with Jake and Neytiri. So it didn’t surprise you when Norm was unconvinced of your feign reassurance, eyes shifting over to a rather distressed looking Jake as he towered over you from behind, hoping to gain some intuition of the situation. None was offered, at least not in front of you, and you glanced up to see the silent exchange between the two Na’vi men, something you were unaware of.

This infuriated you, observing the way they communicated so perfectly without the utterance of words about something that clearly involved you. You grumbled out an ‘excuse me’ before standing and making your way towards your little ones who’d been playing close to the expanse of the Hometree, both pairs of round eyes widening and smiling at the sight of you. “Sa’nu!”

“My babies,” you grinned, giggling when Neteyam’s arms loosely wrapped around your waist with his ear pressed against your belly. “Tsmukan.” ( brother ) he happily crooned, and Kiri’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. “Kehe. Tsmuke.” ( sister )

You laughed at the glare she gave the boy while he remained unbothered and simply nuzzled his nose to your flesh. “It is too early to tell if it’s a boy or girl. But either one, I’m sure you will love them very much.” Your hands fall over their heads, lovingly stroking your fingers through their dark strands and smiling down at them, feeling an ease settle down on you despite the tiredness you felt.

Neteyam must have sensed it, for he peered up at you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out as his ear pressed over your heartbeat. “Sa’nu…sleepy?” He questioned. Damn was it that easy to tell?

“A little bit, my warrior. But I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You reassured the boy. He made a grunting sound and glanced at Kiri before they pulled away to grab your hands, lightly pulling you near the tree’s surface, between the thick roots. “S-sit.”

Their actions left you a bit dubious but you followed them, slowly sliding down with a sigh and smiled softly at them. “You two are a blessing, y’know that?” They only settled down on each of your side and wrapped their little arms around you, soft babbles being exchanged with the two.

Children may be clueless at times, but they certainly weren’t stupid, you thought. And if they were able to indicate what you felt, then it must be because it was clearly written in your face, and being able to settle down without having the eyes of the People on you brought down the waves of weariness, the verge of nearly collapsing.

“The…pregnancy is doing this to her, you say?” Mo’at’s voice, perplexed and firm.

The one responding afterwards was recognized as Jake’s refrain, strangled and raspy. “Yeah. She’s been trying to hide it, but we can tell it’s taking a number on her, and she’s not doing a damn good job at hiding this!”

“It is a child, ma Jake. You cannot judge her or the child too harshly now. But,” a sigh followed; Neytiri. “It is true, ma sa’nok. Every day, she becomes more frail … and we have no choice but to see her fall apart like this.”

“Perhaps we should let her stay here instead of going to the human outpost. It will do her good if I keep checking on her, no?”

“With all due respect, Tsahik,” Norm. “She has to keep going to the outpost in order to see if this pregnancy and her health are maintaining balance—”

“Yeah well, a fat load of crap that is to see if she’s maintaining balance.”

“Jake, please calm down. Besides, it does seem like a normal response from the twins in her stomach so she is gonna have to constantly come by—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“What do you mean by twins?”

Silence ebbed, one of thickness and delirious, one that you felt from the center of your being at the revelation, yet your silence was otherwise. Not one, but two pure souls growing in your womb, you thought anticipatingly, though that warm happiness was quick to dissolve from the biting tone of none other than Jake. “What the hell do you mean by twins, Norm? You didn’t say this the other day. It’s not possible!“

“I…we couldn’t confirm it just yet. The ultrasound was iffy, and it took Dr. Mason some time to go through it until she realized it. think about it, though; the rapid growth of her belly, the way she looks more and more tired—”

“Yeah because that thing is draining everything she’s got!”

“Twins are not capable of happening for the Na’vi…it is a rare occurrence, yet a blessing—”

“But Y/N isn’t a part of the Na’vi, not physically. And this isn’t a blessing, this isn’t even supposed to be happening–”

“She wants to be a mother, we cannot deny her this. She is happy, you should be happy—”

“I am, believe me, I am happy if she’s happy, if you’re happy, Neytiri. But not when this…baby is practically killing her from the inside slowly with each passing second. Or what— you wanna lose her?”

“I never said that! But we cannot keep getting in the way of this dream that she wishes for so profoundly—”

“I don’t want her having this baby, there I said it.”

Silence condensed once more, and you have to take a quick peek to the children in your hold, both gratefully sound asleep despite the escalating tone of the others, and you have to raise a palm to your mouth in order to contain the sob threatening to hurl from your throat at Jake’s revelation.

“Jakesully. A child is a gift sent from Eywa, whether your wife is Na’vi or not. And It is up to both you and my daughter to support her, no matter your train of thought.”

“Norm, back me up here.” Nothing. “Neytiri, don’t tell me you want her having this thing, do you really want to lose her like this–”

“That thing is a child. Our child, children, Toruk. You can either accept it or not, but it will not change her mind, or mine.”

Inhaling deeply in hopes to find a steady pace to your racketing heart at the most expeditious pace, you gently shake the children awake. “Come on, we must get back to your mama and father.” Both Neytiri and Jake’s ears flicker at the sound at your heartbeat assisted with Neteyam’s and Kiri’s, Jake’s gaze flitting down to the two other beats that happened to be purely beating within your stomach. Mo’at, a firm demeanor upon her and Norm, looking down at the ground, said nothing as your presence was between them all.

“Angel, you alright–”

“I think it’s best I head back with the kids.”

Neytiri was the one to take you back while the Tsahik and Jake continued with the festivity, not wanting to abruptly call everything off and reassured the People everything was fine.

When your beautiful wife sauntered your way, a final peer to the children who were sound asleep, with ease she settled you within the hammock, crawling in beside you and like all nights, she held you close; yet tonight was different, tonight was as if she had been hit with the realization of the very words Jake uttered; her hold on you was almost despairing, swallowing the entire length of your body with her prolonged one while her chest produced the deepest of exhales and clutched onto you. Gulping, you tilted your head up at her; honey-like orbs hidden beneath shuddering eyelids, her lips obtrude, and gentle words somehow found a way to soothe from their trembling act.

“Neytiri…do you want to have these babies?”

Her eyes nearly snapped open but settled for a gentle gaze, and you saw the way she immediately picked up on your usage of ‘babies’ instead of the singular word giving her the wretched notion that you had heard their conversation. She prompted a flicker of a sad smile and nodded while giving your cheek a light stroke. “My desires are your desires, seykxel txe’lan.” Firm, confident, sadness all molded into those words, and you wholly believed her.

Another question climbed painfully up your throat, one that was thrown out when Jake had finally made his way back with you, clutching you and Neytiri the same way she had; “Do you want to have these babies?”

You looked at him, and Neytiri’s eyes only fell shut when he stared up and laid his chin over your head.

“We want what you want, angel.”

…….

“May I speak with you for a moment, ma Tsahik?”

You entered her den, strides reluctant and nervous, and Mo’at’s gaze glowered curiously and slightly displeased at your usage of formality. “Now what have I told you about addressing me like that, eh?”

You released a weak chuckle, muttering a small apology as you walked her way. “I’ve been out of it for a while now, but again, forgive me.”

She smiled as you settled down beside her and nodded in understanding. “It is common with your state of being right now. Do not apologize.” You glanced at her in curiosity before it hit you. “I forgot you already knew.”

She laughed, “Tsahik knows it all.” Your mouth twitched before the corners pushed down. “I don’t mean that…” you inhaled sharply, “I overheard your conversation the night before. With Jake. And Neytiri. And Norm.”

Her smile faltered at your revelation but did not rush to assist any excuses to it, for she knew it was very much explanatory enough. “I did have…suspicions of it already before that talk, however.” she pointed out and then sighed. “I assume…that is why you are here, ‘ite?”

You nodded, and the herbs currently in her hand are placed down so she can provide her attention to you. “I am not upset with you, but I am upset with…”

“Jakesully’s words?” She questioned and you nodded. Mo’at, growing to become a mother figure within your life, was wisest as a voice of reason – partially for being Tsahik of course – and provided guidance when caring for yourself became too hefty, when your relationship with her daughter and Clan Leader had its difficulties.

She bowed her head as a gesture for you to proceed. “You know how much I’ve longed for this, for carrying my very own children, but you also have heard of the difficulties I’ve been having because of this longing given my condition,” Her hand reached to place over the palm that rested over your belly, smiling slightly at you. “And it’s difficult, yes. But…Jake is so apprehensive about it and Neytiri too worries, and I understand why, I love them because they worry and care for me.” Your fingers twitched, eyes gaining a glassed surface and sniffled “But I want this, sa’nok. And yes, you’ll be the first I’ll verbally admit to that I am exhausted almost every day, but that doesn’t matter to me! What motivates me is that I’m meant to carry life, these beautiful lives, that I’ll be giving Neteyam and Kiri more reliance, I’ll be giving Neytiri and Jake another to love wholly–”

“You will be able to birth and be someone’s blood mother.” You stayed quiet, rubbing soft circles over your belly and nodded. “Neteyam and Kiri are my children, and I know I am their mother as much as Neytiri is but…I’ve wanted to experience carrying a child, does that make sense? And Jake doesn't understand, Neytiri is supportive and I’m sure she wants this but I’m afraid…”

Tears have omitted down your cheeks, and both her palms now have raised to cradle your face. “Oh ma’eveng… you’re afraid she too does not want you to have these children.” You’ve had a challenging time grasping the conversation they had shared, and nodded your head. She gave you a soft smile, one that enriched the maturity of her features.

“They do love you very much, and I am sure you know that. I cannot speak for Jakesully in this case because I do not know the specific events of his life, as for my daughter…” Melancholy swarmed her gaze and you caught on to what subject was bound to be brought up. “A lot within her changed when her sister departed from us. Neytiri’s brilliance and precautions sharpened with the Sky People. She had sworn right in front of Eywa to not ever trust them again,” she chuckled half heartedly and you couldn't help but do the same. “But how I knew how much she enjoyed the curiosity always brightened when she and Sylwanin learned about them with Grace. And she tried to simmer it down, she nearly convinced me it had completely faded.

“But then you and him came along, and that night you were brought to our village, I saw it again; that curiosity. Brimming within her, wrestling with the swear she had made. A fickling light Neytiri was. And I will admit, I was hesitant when I saw it, when it led to love…but you both brought something within her back to life. Neytiri loves you eternally. Jake loves you profoundly as well. Now, my daughter would never ask this of you, to not have these children; but of course she is afraid. And while Jake’s statements were rather harsh, his behavior, and her fear, are being driven by that love.”

“And I love them as well, so so much but I just–”

“However, that love should not hinder the act of you making choices.” she firmly stated. “Especially when it comes to your happiness, your mind, heart, and body. The very body that you have taken care of after many events of hurting. You deserve this, ‘ite. The Great Mother has rewarded you for your suffering, and you shall welcome it, no matter what they say.”

Stutters spewed from your mouth as you now sobbed within her hold. “B-but he said–”

“Words lie. Words deceive.” she reminded you. “Actions prove otherwise when it comes from here,” her hand fell to your chest, “ the heart. And if your heart desires a child which is not unnatural, then they will be easy to love. You desire this?”

“More than anything, ma sa’nok.”

She smiled, carefully dabbing away the tears over your cheeks. “They want this, despite the deceiving words. They love you, and want to continue this family with you, child.”

…………

“Do you still love me, Jake? Neytiri, does he?” Not so far and not so deep into the forest, but far enough from ears to hear the seeth in your voice, far enough from eyesight to witness the tears rolling down your cheeks. Neytiri’s ear twitched at your words, mouth frowning as she crouched near you while Jake could only look down with a deep frown, purposefully avoiding your gaze.

“What is the reason for these words, lovely girl? Of course he still loves you–”

“Let’s ask the chief himself; Jake, answer my question.”

He snorted humorlessly, almost in disbelief. “Why the– why would you ever ask that?”

You pulled away from Neytiri’s touch and took long steps his way, innerly grateful for him sitting down on a rock otherwise you wouldn’t have any access in grabbing his face and forcing him to meet your eyes. “You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t smile, or you do but it never reaches your eyes. Not when you’re with me, or Neytiri whether she admits it or not. Do you love me now? Do you love her? Why–”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Why would you ever, ever question this! I have loved, still love, and will always love you and Neytiri and my kids more than anyone and anything in this entire universe.” Yellow and slight neon green like eyes bored within your own, and you had no control of the way air completely left your lungs. But it did not whatsoever efface his constant behavior, or the emotions you carried. “Do those kids include the two that are growing inside me right now?”

He huffed, looking at Neytiri to find some sort of exit to this exhausting and daily question of yours, but she stayed quiet. If anything, she looked and waited for his response in the same way you did. “If these babies make you guys happy, then I’m more than fine with it. Then yes, I want you to have them. What you want, I want–”

“Jake.”

He continued without looking at you. “Neytiri, I do love you so much, and again, if this is what you both want then okay– “

“Ma Jake.”

“...you deserve this and I care–”

“For Eywa’s sake, Jake Sully, answer her question! You have already admitted this to me, now admit it to her! Enough with the lies, enough with the silence, enough picking your way out! Answer truthfully because she deserves the truth from you,”

“Do you want to have these babies?”

The light contours of his nose flared at Neytiri’s words but didn’t argue nor respond. No words, no heavy breaths, no sound besides the heart of Pandora’s forest. Nothing and you were growing antsy because of it, nothing and Neytiri hissed because of it. Until, finally, his lips parted and uttered one single word; “No.”

Neytiri’s ears hitched at the harsh jitter your heart created, and she wasted no time in getting beside you. You let her grab you, but you did not tear your eyes from him. “W-what?’

“No.” he said more firmly, brows pulled together and eyes drenched in remorse and anger. “No. No. No!”

The end of Neytiri’s braids lightly whipped against your skin as she glanced to look at him when he stood, her eyes equally as wide as your own from his tone of voice. “You don’t want our children?”

“I can suffice with the other two. And not if it means we’re losing you. Not like this.”

Your hold on Neytiri tightened and as did hers. “Ma Jake, we do not know if we will lose her because of this pregnancy–”

“Stop, Neytiri. Just stop, you’re pointing out my lies and here you are lying and trying to convince yourself. You damn heard Norm, you heard Dr. Mason – her heart can’t handle it! If she can’t handle one, how the hell do you think she can handle two?” The muscles of his neck strained tightly as he hissed these words, brows curling down. “Or what – losing her doesn’t matter to you, Neytiri? You rather choose two lifeless children over our girl–”

She abruptly stood to her height and within a second, her chest was pressed against his. “I have never, ever said that and you know it! Do not assume what I feel, do not assume what I choose!”

“You and I both know what’s going on with her body, you as much as i can feel the way she’s slowly slipping away and you’re on her damn side–”

“This is not about choosing sides, Jake! This is about life, the life she is having that holds apart of us–”

“And what about her life!”

You all were silent, thick and heavy tears rolling down both yours and Neytiri’s cheeks, becoming one with the skin beneath your eyes. He, however, contained them. He couldn’t break down, not now. “Y/N, you’re not gonna say anything? Not fight, not agree, nothing?” You didn’t, because you had already come to the terms of you departing and making peace with it. You were upset, angry at him, at her, at yourself, at your very heart. “You were the one to bring this up that night, Jake. You were the one who encouraged this, you convinced me and Neytiri so don’t forget–”

He threw his arms in the air, exasperated and let out a strangled breath. “And I damn regret it! Every day I think about it, and wish I kept my mouth shut. We were fine, we were happy just us; you, Neytiri, the kids, me, our fortress. That was enough for me, our happiness.” His voice boomed once more, and never once had it been that way towards you or Neytiri.

Never did he want to hurt them, that was something he always feared doing and yet, here they were. Perhaps he was a coward simply blaming it on his conscience, simply blaming it on his heart, uttering a truth that was already known as a lie but continued to speak it. He knew well he was to blame; but he wanted to contain the peace, his source of happiness, of protecting, of giving him a purpose and fortress.

You tried blinking away the blur of tears and looked at Neytiri, “Do….do you have regrets? Do you want this? Or are you lying like him–”

“Never have I once lied to you, ma Y/N.” she ushered herself to you, hands grabbing ahold of your cheeks. “I have been honest, always. I do not partake nor control this skxawng’s words…but,” she inhaled deeply, her lower lip pushing out and her ears flattening in hence of her sadness. “I am afraid. I-I do not want us to lose you…yet at the same time, I admire the way you have accepted this, and as hurting as it is…I want this for you, for us, these babies. I support you, no matter what.” Her grasp grew desperate, eyes having the rarity of plead she’ll only show him, only show you. You recognized the fear of losing her peace, but you knew her words were nothing but sincere, loving but you knew she too felt remorse. “Trust. Rutxe ( please ). You must trust me–”

“I do trust you, Neytiri.” Your touch soothed, cradling her jaw and stroked her azure flesh with a wobbly smile before it fell, both of you glancing at a crumbled looking Jake. “Are you unhappy now, Jake? Are you unhappy with us?” your tone of voice edged, and the assistance of Neytiri’s golden orbs with your broken sparkling ones sliced deep into his heart.

The length of dark locs upon his head fell to his forehead and swayed over his heaving chest, “I’m unhappy with the way you’re hurting. And I know Neytiri is being the better one here, but I’m sure that she feels the exact same way I do when we see you hurting; I feel like a part of me dies.” He lifted his head, and your own heart churned at the dampness surfacing those eyes. “I don’t like what those two are doing to you, angel. I don’t like hearing Neytiri suffer in silence because of this…I don’t like the fact that you’ll leave our kids–”

“Jake…”

He moved closer until he was kneeling over the ground, and reached out to hold his girls, to provide you both that strength of protection, of stability within your fortress as he often did, and Neytiri let him, you let him. She let him run his fingers through her cascade of braids as he kissed her forehead. You let him rest the expanse of his hand over your back and pull you ever deeper into his warmth and he soon kissed both your drenched faces, and for the first time in a while, he let his tears fall, tainting both yours and Neytiri’s skin, because regardless of everything that has happened, you yearned for one another, for that heat he provided, that security he carried and become one with.

…………

The large holographic images displayed the very hospital you met Jake in, and among the myriad of images was that one ward, the one you specifically met him in. Never did he think he’d see this place again, even though he’s not physically there. It made the former marine’s insides stir with all kinds of emotions, smiling every so briefly at recalling all those memories upon those walls. He’d fallen in love with you, given her the very first kiss beneath those stark lights. He mentally thanked Norm for saving these old but very functional technology; ones that were able to seep through the memory of one and project them right before your eyes, and Norm happened to let him ( mainly you, since you’re mostly responsible and reliable to take care of such thing–) take it within the forest, just to show Neytiri.

“Here’s where we met,” he cleared his throat, glancing at Neytiri, then at you before staring back at the image. “Where I found out about her crazy love for babies.”

Your lips curled at his awkward chuckle, and took a step forward and near the picture; small bodies of babies that you remember as clear as day right there, picked from yours and Jake’s memories. You stood between the two Na’vi figures who carried both your other babies, and internally laughed at how it was now your shoulder pressed against his forearm. He even smiled slightly and welcomed this contact, knowing that despite there really being nothing special about himself, he had embraced the fact that his warmth, his need for a light to radiance in his darkness called to you, the very same way with Neytiri as well.

Neytiri’s eyes brimmed and her tail softly lashed with wonder, Kiri’s pure gaze brimmed with the same emotion her mother carried as well. She’s heard the way they’ve met multiple times, she’s retained the lovely memory by heart and understood Jake’s reasoning for the way he spoke of his past, of his disabilities and your condition. Jake’s trepidation did not go without acknowledgement nor understanding, because she too feared, she too fell into great sadness with the thought of losing you. However, she had something you’ve been contemplating with, something Jake seemed to have forgotten to have in their Great Mother; faith in your heart. In your surviving, and perhaps she was in denial, perhaps she too, like Jake, wanted it to be a wrong belief, but even her own mother, the Tsahik could not correspond to these unknown outcomes.

So she couldn’t evict the hitch of a crestfallen smile when you grabbed ahold of both their hands, not tearing your eyes from the motions of the pictures; the little babies she recalled you saying were very tiny compared to the Neteyam and Kiri, and questioned without looking at either or: “You would put my own life above the ones growing inside of me, marine? And would you, Neytiri, rather me alive than the ones bound to live under the will of Eywa? Please, be truthful.”

Jake’s smile softened at both the nickname and kept his gaze on you and so did Neytiri. Mesmerization played a powerful vehemence within the three of you, always directed fairly with the other, both admiring the captivating beauty etched upon your frail complexion, and Neytiri now understood why he called you an angel, what was the purpose of an angel; you fulfilled the word, you gave it meaning.

“Without hesitation, I would.” He responded, and all you knew this response wasn’t one you entirely wished for, and her hand tightened around yours. “Under the will of Eywa, I would.” Never would you or Jake pull Neytiri from her trust in Eywa, you respected this. And all this holding back, the lying, it was tiring for the both of them, and Jake wanted to affirm his belief within both your minds that you both matter to him, that he cared in keeping you both safe, alive, but overall happy.

Your head bobbed softly at their words, the device around your body soon shutting off with your silent command. Jake found himself crouching down to the ground with Neteyam in his grasp, a move you once took as silly and pitiful for them both really, but now it didn’t matter. Not when he found himself drawn to you, reaching Neytiri’s other hand and motioning her to bring herself and Kiri down as well. “You both will choose me.”

“I will forever choose my fortress.”

Neytiri huffed out a breathy giggle as Kiri’s fingers brushed over the ends of her braids to the tip of her ear, and Jake along with you grinned softly at the sound. “And I choose my fortress too, Jake. And choosing my fortress means choosing to let these little ones live. I choose to add onto the foundation of my, our fortress.”

He watched as you peered down to your belly, he watched as Neytiri smiled warmly with her irises swarming with both affection and sadness, and he inhaled deeply as you spoke; “Y’hear that, my other babies? I choose to give life to you both…but I wish for you guys to forgive me because that may be the only thing i can give you,” Both Neteyam and Kiri had writhed their way out of Jake’s and Neytiri’s hold, both their little frames seated between the circle their parents had created.

A watery chuckle spewed from your throat when their wide eyed stare pointed your way and crouched down in front of them, their little blue fingers spreading over your tear stained cheeks, “And I wish for you two, my brilliant Kiri and my warrior Neteyam, to forgive me too…” Your palm lifted to ruffle the growing strands upon your baby boy’s head while the other cradled the fullness of Kiri’s cheek. “But I hope you guys promise to take care of these two babies here, and that you grow to love them as much as I do, okay?”

A barrier of tears warped Neytiri’s eyes, chuckling when the two laid their little hands over your stomach and grinned widely. “Prrnen, sa’nu! Prrnen!” Jake’s touch against you firmed, his throat constricting from trying to contain his pleads, his cries for you to not go through with this. To stay, to watch your two kids already born, alive, and growing continue to grow, to learn, to live with you by their side. He didn’t say anything, only observing and grasping how meaningful this was to you, how his kids already accepted their future siblings, observing and accepting how and why Neytiri chose to agree with you, how she maintained her firm support for you; because she wanted you to believe that your heart was capable enough to do something grand; seykxel txe’lan. And she wanted you to be happy and fulfilled with your heart. It was not hers nor his choice to make, and it was then that he begun to accept the pernicious reality that this fortress will lose a major part that interpreted it a fortress, that his life, Neytiri’s life, Neteyam and Kiri’s life will outlive your own. And he didn’t dare to speak it aloud, so he only watched and took this moment in.

“Will you forgive me, Tiri? Will you forgive me, Jake?” Their hearts tethered at the timidness of your voice.

Neytiri reached for you, long arms tangling around you as she pressed soft kisses across each part of your face, letting her tears mingle with the ones over your cheeks, “I do not need to forgive you for anything, seykxel txe’lan. I desire what you desire,” her mouth fell over your forehead, “I choose whatever you choose, lovely girl.”

Jake then kissed you, pouring it all into that one kiss, fingers delicately but firmly grasping your flesh as he drank you in in this precise moment, not caring to hold back in front of his kids who had already seemed occupied with the unique nature surrounding them, and you could’ve sworn you heard a sob among his breaking stutter as he pulled away and let his forehead cover your own. “I choose you. I choose whatever you choose, my angel.”

…………

Jake greatly detested coming back to the human outpost just for check-ups; your check-ups. Not that he detested knowing about your health, but he generally detested hospitals, doctors, anything that had to do with machines, the feedback, wires, tubes. He knew he was inexperienced in this field, but he, equally or more so Neytiri, despised these human machines more than anything. Which is why when the time finally came, they had Dr. Mason and Norm come to their Hometree, with of course your permission given this was your procedure, and assist the Tsahik, your mother-in-law to help with the preparation of your said labor.

Though he’d been a bit stubborn to this, you, Neytiri, Mo’at, Dr. Mason, and Norm had convinced him to agree. Neytiri too had been…thickly stubborn at allowing Dr. Mason in, she wanted you to partake in the natural birthing process of the Na’vi, but after hearing the precautions a pregnant human must take, let alone one with your condition and carrying twins, she reluctantly accepted this as long as she was present within the room.

“You are very calm, ma Jake. It is worrying.” Neytiri pointed out, and his pinned down ears flickered at the sound of his mate’s voice and eyes fell over the weak strain of your smile. He matched your expression and let his gaze focus on the interlace of Neytiri’s azure fingers delicately wrapped around your ringed ones, letting the sight stir his stomach and let his own hand rest over the both of yours. “I’m calm because you both are. But Mason and Norm aren’t here yet and it worries me that they and Mo’at–”

“Do not make her anxious, Jakesully,” His mother-in-law had interjected in a low tone and he turned to see her giving him a firm look as she prepared for the coming events. “They will be here in time.”

“Right, right, right. Yeah, sorry.” His head bobbed with each word, knees pressing into the ground. “Supposed to be a supporting and loving husband, not some commanding chief or marine, I know–” Neytiri’s lips pursed to contain her slight smile, and both stared down at you as a giggle bubbled from your chest. He, Jake, was enamored with the sight of them, of her, of you in this second, especially in this second given the circumstances. Your perseverance was admirable to both of them, and while Jake wished to be like you, he also wished to be like Neytiri, have more of her support and cooperativity.

He watched as you gave Neytiri a smirk, those gentle eyes illuminating as always and your voice dropped to a whisper. “Commanding chief, huh? And a commanding marine? Tiri, my love, that doesn’t sound bad now, does it?”

Your jesting statement caused Neytiri’s eyes to roll, yet their gold hue softly enlivened and warmed. “Srane, ma Y/N. It is an interesting idea, is it not, ma Jake?”

Once more; perseverance, support, cooperativity, commendable in his perspective. You for creating jokes at a time like this, Neytiri for going along with it in hopes to ease the tension accompanying them all, to ease the torment assisting their minds and unwind the wires of anxiety around their hearts. “I love yall so damn much.” he sighed out.

“You influence us, ma Jake. You are what you say, rubbing off on me.” She grinned at the way your head perked up and laid your other hand over his forearm, “Baby, that’s another good one! Wanna rub off on us, Jake, my protector?” He chuckled softly, and just when he was about to respond, a very late Norm and a very late doctor and what also seemed as two more scientist / doctors walked in with two other Na’vi males assisting on each side, just as guidance and precautions under Jake’s order, departing with a firm nod of his, and his lips portrayed a tight stroke with a puncture between his brows. Norm mouthed a ‘sorry’ while Dr. Mason greeted you all, including the Tsahik.

“We only permitted the doctor and the other into our home,” Neytiri frowned, shoulders narrowing as she eyed the female who squirmed under her inspecting gaze. “Again, we need as much help as we can get in here,” Dr. Mason informed, settling down in front of you and put together the minor equipment she carried, every Na’vi present in your atmosphere grimacing at the sound they created.

“Look at you, round and ready to go,” Norm mused and you rolled your eyes at his remark but smiled nonetheless. You, well your belly was incredibly round, and incredibly large for its size to carry two babies. Then again, these babies may not be human to which is why your labor was to be taken with attentiveness and caution, not wanting to harm you or them, yet if needed, with your permission already, you’d already accepted the harm that would be delivered to you. “So…do we have any questions before we continue with this process?”

Your hold on your wife’s hand tightened, your hold on his arm tightened and your face portrayed the subtle strokes of sadness and anguish. Both knew the meaning to this, and Neytiri’s lashes fluttered rapidly and softly spoke to you, reassuring and loving, while Jake chose to zone out for he did not want to comprehend it and let the Tsahik, Norm, the other docs, and Dr. Mason continued with your mates present.

It was when the beeping sounds of the machine spiked and blocked away his thinking and blinked him back to reality. It was Neytiri, her eyes livid and tormented as she stared at Dr. Mason and her mother, yelling in their native language while Mo’at deeply frowned and tried to respond with a firm voice. Shouts, frantic movements from the others. He wasted no time in launching to your side and grabbed ahold of your hand.

He was too distressed, too agitated to comprehend the grasp of their Na’vi language in this case. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on! What is wrong with her— Neytiri!” If he weren’t so caught up in his booming octave, he would have noticed the flash of pain across your face. Neytiri, however, did, and stopped from helping her mother with this procedure and rushed to soothe you. “Ma Jake, mawey.” She hissed quietly, then let her palm fall over your jumble by chest. “ Ma seykxel txe’lan. Strong. Breathe. We are here…”

Jake’s ear flattened at the jitters of your heartbeat and whirled his head towards you. He let his own hand, quivering, laid over Neytiri’s and your eyes, those beautiful eyes, frantic and desperate gave them the notion to go into your breathing practices. “C’mon angel, I know, I know, baby. C’mon, jus’ breathe for us…”

All efforts were meaningless, hopeless, faithless and he was on the point of collapsing in a void while she tried grasping onto that hope, that faith for the three of you.

“Mo’at, the babies’ heart rate is lowering. Y/N’s heart is too fast right now and so is her blood pressure,” Dr. Mason’s lenses fogged up, the agony unclear to her eyes with a determined press of her lips. “We have to do a C-section. We have to cut one in order for both the babies to live.”

“We do not partake in such things—”

“Neytiri’s right, no—“ their protests were cut short with a rise of the Tsahik’s pointer finger, yellow orbs disappearing under closed eyelids for just a second before they reappeared. “If that is what it takes, that is what we must do.” Neytiri wanted to scream, to yell that this was not their way, but she bit her tongue for she respected her mother’s word, she respected the Great Mother’s will.

“Jake, Neytiri, Norm, I’m going to need the three of you to step out—”

“My daughter is to stay.” Mo’at interjected and pointed her gaze at Neytiri. “If you are tsakarem, if you are to be Tsahik, you must stay.”

Your panicking eyes slightly eased at the knowledge of one of your mates being here, but you needed them both in this moment here, with you despite those words. Words that Jake and Neytiri despised, words that would rather go ignored than complied. They both promised, he promised he’d be there and yet here he was, outside the Tsahik’s hut, hurting and breaking his promise.

“Strong heart, angel. Use that strong heart, y’hear me?” were the final words he said, sharing a deep understanding with Neytiri’s irises before giving her hand a comforting squeeze before parting his way from his wives.

He could simply surge himself in, with no one to stop him. He was Olo’eyktan, he was the People’s leader. Who were they to stop him? Sure, Norm was here, but his lanky strength was no match for Jake’s. But he knew you would not like this, you wouldn’t want him to act against his support and Neytiri wouldn’t approve especially, and it was not in his book to disappoint his girls once more. So he decided to set his nerve racketing behind on the nearest surface, and allowed his ability to feel, to hear his angel’s wonderful heartbeat try and soothe him, the hear his lovely Neytiri’s enhanced heart twine and support your own; if he couldn’t be near them, the very least he could have is the abnormal rhythm of your two joined heartbeats.

“Relax, Jake. She’s gonna be fine.” Norm, grunting as he settled beside his friend, reassured, and let his arm fall over dense shoulders as they both sat a good distance from where you resided in, and Jake couldn’t contain the shaking exhale that left his churning chest when his baby boy and girl ran their way into his arms; as if they felt his distress and let their father nuzzle himself into their little frames.

…………

“It’s been over 24 fucking hours—” Jake’s eyes cautiously peered down at Neteyam who had his head resting over his shoulder, the damp feel of his saliva proving him to be asleep from the gentle bouncing motions Jake created. “— and they still haven’t said anything!”

Norm — having a curious Kiri who fiddled with the strands of his hair and odd human clothes in his arms — sighed in front of him because of course, Jake was not only impatient but overly dramatic at times. “First of all, it’s been at least over 60 minutes since. Second, stop being so antsy. She’d want you to be calm right now — Y/N’s strong.”

He rolled his eyes at his remark and didn’t care if Norm smirked slightly at his tactics. He only cared about you. “Just be patient—”

“I don’t care about damn patience! I want to know what’s happening with my wife!” His yell awoken the boy in his arms, causing him to groan and stir awake with a silent whimper while Kiri could only babble loudly — possibly angrily — at her father. “Shh…shh, Teyam. My bad, baby boy.” He crooned, patting his back and bounced him once more. “Daddy’s being a pain in the ass right now…”

“Jake, I don’t know what’s bound to happen but—”

His ears hitched, focused on a melody that he could not manage to detect and he strongly shushed Norm. “H-hol’ on….something’s wrong.”

“Jake, what’s going on—

“Quiet.” Fear clawed at his chest, and Norm frowned at the way Jake slowly strided forward. “I, uh, I can’t…I can’t hear—”

Neteyam’s head lifted and both men stared between the boy and Kiri as they looked at each other, their pointed ears creating the same motion Jake’s had done second ago, a quiet whimper leaving them both before they out of nowhere started to thrash, to cry, to whine in their hold. “Woah, woah, hey, Kiri, calm down—”

Neteyam writhed, he grunted, little fists pushing against his father’s chest as his nose scrunched up. “Sa’nu!” Sa’nu! Jake’s heart dropped to his stomach at the boy’s call for you. He pushed the boy into Norm’s arms and let his feet march him to the faint inhales you mustered, the weak thumps your heart created — yes, faint, yes, weak, but still existent enough for him to know you were alive. But now, he didn’t feel, he didn’t hear the combination he knew, he memorized.

He ignored the cries from his children, he ignored the calls from his friend, he continued forward with a blurred vision without a care for the world around him. All he could hear now were the mournful cries that up to this day pitted him with aching guilt, the cries he was responsible of before; Neytiri’s cries

The woven curtains to the Tsahik’s tent were roughly pushed aside, and it startled the two other human unknown nor uncared for named doctors present in the room. He didn’t give them any care, not when his eyes panned over the spot you once laid on the fabric covered ground but now you rested in the desperate and softly swaying cradle of Neytiri’s arms, and he held back a whimper; at least he tried convincing himself you were resting. Tried convincing himself that Neytiri’s tears were all but sadness, that they were tears of happiness, of such proudness for what you had just done. No one pushed him out, no one stopped him, yet no one needed to because his feet, his body froze.

You looked as if you were in a peaceful slumber, yes. That’s what you were, simply sleeping, simply trying to catch your breath and process the immense strain you've experienced. That’s what he tried to cement in his mind, that’s what he tried to tell himself because no other option could be accepted.

Yet he and Neytiri had both seen, had both memorized the many occasions you’d fallen asleep in their warmth and he tightly held onto the indulgence of believing the definition of your state was sleep. He had mastered the structure of everyone’s heart within his fortress; and now there was a pure structure that had been torn from it, from existence.

Neytiri’s gaze lifted from your frame and collided with his own, those golden eyes immersing in tears and without his volition, he took 5 steps forward and looked back down at you. Motionless you were; drained of complexion yet body drenched with your own blood, devoid of life. Your heart was lifeless, your chest unmoved. No breath animated your being, and in the absence of ascent, there could be no descent. Though there was an ascent — the ascent of Neytiri’s wretched cries — and for that ascent came the descent — Jake’s descent. He had been unaware of his hard fall to the ground, right beside Neytiri, right where you were.

“Angel, baby, c’mon,” He whimpered, trying to block away the way Neytiri’s sobs tore him apart as he grabbed you from her hold, large arms carrying you, shaking palm grasping your washed out face, inspecting those features that remained angelic, that remained with a fading light he desperately tried to keep from seeping through his fingers.

“Y/N, open those eyes for me, y-yeah? Those pretty eyes—”

“She…She is with Eywa now, ma Jake.”

Months after holding back, after swallowing his pain and tears, those whispered, broken words erupted into a miserable yell of your name.

…

Jake’s conscience had been tormented with the many deaths he’d been responsible for. He carried that misfortune with him always, he had embraced that responsibility and let it continue to shadow him and he never pushed or numbed it away because he was deserving of it, to the point that if the time came for his own death, he’d more than gladly embrace it.

But the death he would much rather not embrace in this life, in any other life, was yours.

To which is why he strongly chose to let numbness to its work within his broken soul. Numbness as he remained without lifting a single finger, without releasing a ragged breath or tear, sitting a good distance outside the Hometree, letting Pandora’s nature blanket him with apathy.

It was better this way, he said inwardly, to not feel. To suffer in his own agony in silence for if he revealed it, he would destroy the little peace he thought that was residing in his fortress. It was odd, the way the forest was silent. No chirping, no creek, no breeze. Just silence, a silence he accepted and let it become one of his smallest comforts.

It only lasted for a limit however, and he huffed out a sigh as the subtle to rapid little steps amongst the soil filled his ears before the ones they belonged to could to view. “Daddy!”

A smile, forced and exhausted, strained the corners of his mouth as Kiri jolted into his arms. “Hey, babygirl…”

“Prrnen! See prrnen!” He ignored her words by focusing his attention on her hair, lightly pulling on the braid fallen over her shoulder only for her to grumble at him.

A long azure figure, one he wanted nothing more than to avoid at this moment because he knew what she held, came to his eyesight; Neytiri. In her hand was Neteyam’s little one, the boy’s head fallen and gaze staring at the ground as they approached his father. Jake’s head tilted at this, noting the way his little ears were pinned back and a sniffle scrunched his pink nose.

“Neteyam.” The boy stayed quiet much to his dismay, and he frowned deeply.

“He has not been himself for the past days,” his mate, his wife, spoke up. He didn’t want to go on without acknowledging her, so his chin tilted to meet her golden hues — ardent and unreadable, but tinging the slightest of remorse. “You would know if you would pay attention to your son—”

“I’m not in the mood for this, Neytiri.” He knew he should have said that, he knew her words were truthful, but he only sighed, stood up before picking Kiri up and walked over to Neteyam. “Hey, ‘Teyam the mighty warrior…” the smallest of peers from the 1 in a half year old. Guilt panged his chest, knowing he’s well deserving of the little attention his son gave him. “Want me to carry you?”

Nothing. Not until his little arms extended towards the air, a quiet ‘Srane’ leaving him. He now had both children in his arms and his cheek very slightly hoisted when they nestled into his shoulder, tightening their arms and legs around him.

Neytiri watched. She watched the way he interacted with them, she inspected the way his face softened when they provided him the comfort he needed in this moment, the way he inhaled deeply before staring into her eyes, and she knew and felt his grief.

Grief was something not to mourn for long in their way of life. The Great Mother provided, created, nurtured, and she included taking in return. The birth of your children has provided for their fortress, and had been a blessing despite the taking Eywa had made — yet Jake could not see that. Jake could not accept it, accept them. He didn’t want to celebrate the twins’ birth, to which is why Mo’at and her had privately connected one of them to the Great Mother, unaware to him, he didn’t help create their songcords — he didn’t even spare them a glance from the moment they were in his presence. He didn’t even hear the name given, see what the pondering question everyone asked; if they were human, if they were Na’vi, if they had inherited your ability to breathe Pandora’s air, if they were healthy.

And it hurt Neytiri’s heart for she knew you wouldn’t want this, that you would be more than happy to celebrate their birth, to see their father meet, love and accept them. Hurt she was for he had thought he’s left Neytiri to do the mourning when she couldn’t even do it properly; she had her, their children to take care of.

When she caught onto the regret in his eyes and apology nearly falling from his lips, she saw how his gaze flickered to the squirming coos sounds that came from the prrsmung wrapped over her chest, Jake’s features hardening.

“You must meet—”

“Keep those things away from me.” He knew his harsh words sliced deep, and instead of feeling the gnawing guilt, he rather Neytiri felt the sliver of pain he wanted to avoid; he knew he was not being fair, and she knew this too yet didn’t say anything. “I’ll head back later. Leave ‘Teyam and Kiri with me. You go and do whatever it is you need.”

Neteyam huffed at his father’s words, as if understanding word for word and motioned to be put down. Reluctantly, Jake did, and he wasted no time in rushing towards his mama’s side, ignoring the look of surprise among Jake’s face. All Kiri did was tug harshly on her dad’s hair with a screech of his name but stayed in his hold.

And Neytiri said nothing, for Jake’s dagger of words had cut deep within Neytiri’s heart and she did not want to cause a scene in front of her children, so she simply nodded and turned to depart from him, leaving him with the only comfort of his little girl’s small embrace.

…………

Nights fell upon the mated pair with the same pattern — nights were Jake, despite his numbness, would still hold Neytiri to his chest and an unyielding grip with the only sounds being heard were quiet sobs — until that would be assisted with the wails of not only one but two infants, two he always dipped his head down and even shut his eyes to not spare a glance at them or the two cradles they laid in, and let Neytiri peel away from his embrace to check on them, followed by the babbled questions Neteyam and Kiri would make.

Jake didn’t care about meeting them because they knew nothing of you. Sure, they came out of you, you cared for them when you held them in your womb, but they didn’t know who you were. Not how Neytiri did, not like how he did. You were theirs, their angel, their peace, and those two had gone and destroyed that peace no matter what his mate said. He didn’t understand why and how Neytiri could even look at them and hold them without the churn, the pain. Those two…things didn’t know you, they didn’t love you like they did. This was his and Neytiri’s loss and he almost had thought she didn’t care, but oh, how ridiculous and unfair that was on his part. He knew she mourned you, he knew she was just as destroyed as he had yet tried maintaining her ground for her — their children.

Still, even then he found the babies’ cries unjustified.

But, to his dismay, there may have been a single thing those kids and Jake had in common; the sleepless nights. Wide awake he’d be while Neytiri would slumber against his chest, trying to drown in a dreamless sleep in hopes to ease her grief, and days carried out with his once well known bluntness and serious demeanor while attending to his duties as Clan Leader, his slight distraction would only be Kiri and Neteyam who, even though just little ones, seemed to have disagreed with his behavior to those…siblings of theirs. He didn’t speak to Norm much, and conversations with Neytiri led to minor arguments that kept his mouth shut before he crossed a line. He considered and knew, just as he always felt, that everything he touched and surrounded him suffered.

His little boy suffered. His little girl suffered. Neytiri, his wife, his mate, her unwavering love and balance she tried maintaining within this fortress, suffered. Those twins suffered.

His chin was turnt to the sky and he swallowed thickly when he heard those cries soften into wondrous coos and whimpers, his eyelids falling shut to contain his tears.

Tonight did not carry that repetitive pattern however. A good 30 minutes after Neytiri had emerged from their hammock, his movements started shifting out as well, his bare feet quietly hitting the ground, long legs slowly leading towards where Neytiri — little Neteyam and Kiri sleeping soundly on the ground near the two cradles, the cradles he, you, and her made together mere months ago. He stood a good distance away from the three — five of them, fingers tapping over the stripes and scars etched across the sides of his thighs.

“Sweet, beautiful girl. You poor baby,” he heard Neytiri softly crooned, “you only wanted to be with your brother…you have your sa’nu’s eyes — srane.” He heard the break in her voice, the deep inhale following from her statement and frowned.

A boy and girl, huh?

He took another step forward, and it was then that he felt his heart drop at the sight of them; the boy was one of them — the Na’vi, with a head full of dark and rebellious tendrils brushing over his forehead, bright round irises, but it was the little girl that shocked him the most, the little girl who was human — peculiar, neutral tones, and so utterly tiny as she was curled into the baby boy’s blue frame as his little hands so very lightly wrapped over her petite frame. Both were the same age, yet the size was clearly distinct and utterly astounding to him.

Jake shuddered when the little boy’s familiar eyes blinked at him, the way the little baby girl smiled faintly with the soft brush of Neytiri’s fingertip. He immediately thought how was it possible that she could breathe, how was she and that toddler size boy could’ve been in the same space within your stomach? How did he not squeeze that little girl in there with his normal Na’vi chunky size?

He didn’t move and stayed quiet for a long time until he sighed and knelt down beside Neytiri. “Hey.”

Her mouth lifted briefly but kept her gaze fixated among the babies, not uttering a word. His voice was rasped, his throat raw from the cries he’d swallow down, and before she could even feel sorrow for him she held her tongue and continued to softly speak to them in her language.

His mind was too muggled to understand right now, and she caught onto his shift of attitude with the way his eyes went round, the way a furrow pinched his brows as she watched him curiously interact with the babies.

“The human doctor had said it was impossible for both to have survived.” Neytiri muttered, and his ears flitted at her words. “But our Y/N was strong enough to hold them. To not let them die.” Her forehead creased then. “She said to keep them separated from each other. It could be too dangerous for her with the size of Lo’ak compared to her but they cry every time they are not together. L—”

“Lo’ak?” He questioned in wonder. Her lips pursed, “Lo’ak. A name Y/N loved very much. She adored the meaning of it…Freedom love.”

He gave a small nod as his lips trembled into a smile. Of course you’d like that. “A-and her?”

That is when Neytiri’s lips parted and he heard the way her heartbeat hesitated until it thumped its profound rhythm before she smiled brokenly. “Seyk’lan. The meaning of seykxel txe’lan — Strong heart, because this little one right here, was very strong beside this big warrior.” She softly teased, fingers brushing over the boy, Lo’ak’s round little belly.

His chest tightened, and he felt overwhelmed at the new found knowledge of their names, of their meanings, and stared at them for a while. Jake planted his palms over his knees, his shoulders hunching as he turned to look at her, really look at her. The smooth royal contours of her face had been drenched stained with tears, those golden hues of her eyes flickered in a way that showed her struggle to keep their vibrance, and her lower lip fought hard to not tremble the way it always did when she was upset. Neytiri always said you had a strong heart and so did she when she was fighting to keep going for her kids, for you, for him.

It was then that he welcomed the guilt to claw him inside, and he hesitated to reach out and provide her the comfort she so needed. Her fibers sizzled at his coming words, throat tightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go through with this alone. Shouldn’t let you shoulder these two by yourself and shouldn’t take it out on you — I just….I didn’t…” tears evaded him now, and his head fell to try and conceal them.

But Neytiri’s forefinger lifted his chin and gave him a slight smile and shook her head. “You mourn differently. It is alright…I know you need space. And I will give it to you, ma Jake. I was prepared for it…for our Y/N to depart from us and yet…” her shaking exhale caused him to reach for her, palm sliding to cradle the trembling angle of her jaw. “Eywa has reason for all of this. I trust, I believe …. But no amount of preparing or trust can push the hurt that comes with losing the ones you love. W-with Y/N. But we must remain strong, Jake.” She breathed out and rested a hand over his leg. “For Neteyam. For Kiri. For Lo’ak and Seyk’lan—”

“Our fortress will always be broken without her, Neytiri. The pain won’t ever leave, it won’t be the same. I-I don’t want to forget this pain, baby. It’s only fair that I keep feeling it for us.”

“The pain does not have to leave because it never will, ma Jake. You do not mean and you will not be carrying this alone,” His forehead kissed hers, channeling a warming love and soothing he desperately and finally let himself crave.

“Those kids won’t mean the same to me…” her nose feathered over his lovingly, and a sad smile graced Neytiri’s lips as his shaky breath met her skin. “Neglecting them will not do you anything to make you feel better from losing her. Carrying that hurt alone will never grant you peace of mind.”

Light croons and babbles pulled Jake’s attention, his temple now brushed over Neytiri’s forehead as he craned his neck to the single handwoven cradle which both laid in, and he nearly smiled at how both Neteyam and Kiri had stirred in their sleep and hazily reached to touch the babies. They cuddled into each other, little Lo’ak’s body hunched over hers as if hugging her. “What if I can’t accept them? What if I can’t bring myself to take care of them? I can’t disappoint our angel like that.” He shook his head as he stared back at her.

“They want to know you, ma Jake. You are their father, and I’m certain they want to know about her from us.” Neytiri’s words made his ears pique, at how she said they want to know about you, at how they must learn about who you were to them, to their fortress. His gaze bore into hers, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “And we’ll do this together, right? You’ll help me — and I’ll help you with them. Y-yeah?”

She released a wet chuckle, his thumb stroking away the tear over her cheekbone. “We will help and love one another because we chose to. Our Y/N made a choice; to bore our two babies, and she accepted it because she knew we would care for them, we would give them a part in our fortress, Jake. We have a choice. One that is not too late to make; to love them. They have chosen us.” Jake’s chest tightened as he reminisced about the first encounter, one of the first words you ever said to him and he choked out a sad chuckle.

“And this is the easy part, ma Jake,” she softly told him while entwining their fingers together. “Because they are easy to love…look at them.”

He did, only to see the two were already staring back at him while their much tinier hands were in the mighty Neteyam and brilliant Kiri’s little palms. Little Lo’ak smiled and babbled. “He has your eyes, ma Jake.” He grinned at the boy and then turned to Seyk’lan, the girl cooed softly at him, at her father, her tiny hand barely curling around his pinky.

“Prrnen! ‘Lan and Lo’ak, daddy!” Kiri squealed, and Jake could only let a choked up chuckle out. Emotions spiraled within his heart as he got a good look at them; at Seyk’lan’s pure little heart in beautiful sync with Lo’ak’s, at the way she harbored your sparkling eyes with a sliver of a golden hue, at the way he formed a smile in perfect balance of his, Neytiri’s and yours. Eyes and a smile he now knew why Neytiri had grown to love profoundly, why she was called out to the same way yours had, eyes and a smile he thought he had lost forever. Those babies carried parts of you that embodied your angelic soul and features, and it was then that he let himself break.

With the help of Neytiri, he reached for them both, the baby girl, his other baby girl, frail and tiny in the way that you said; almost the same size as his wide palms. And the boy, his other boy, whines and Jake chuckled tearily. “I gotcha, kid. Ain’t gonna separate you from your sister, don’t worry…”

He cradled them carefully against his chest, held Seyk’lan’s tiny form with a single hand lovingly and an arm enveloped Lo’ak to give them the privilege to still snuggle against one another. He let a sob pour out from his lips as he held his twins, as his other children, Neteyam and Kiri settled down between Neytiri and himself, carrying a gummy smile. Jake’s gaze met his wife’s, and he couldn’t help but chuckle because she had been right. You had been right; choosing to love these two glazed with your complexion didn’t come with difficulty, just as loving you came with no difficulty. This hadn’t been the equivalence of the fortress he had in mind at the start with his girls, but he accepted the changes bound to merge within it, just as it did in life.

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sovpologist · 5 months

Text

"While the exact details of Sony’s deal to acquire Bungie remain unknown to the public or employees, sources say they were told by leaders that the current split board structure is contingent on Bungie meeting certain financial goals. If Bungie falls short of certain financial thresholds by too great an amount, Sony is allowed to dissolve the existing board and take full control of the company."

"According to those still with the company, employee frustration and sadness in the days and weeks following the layoffs was met with a surprising amount of indifference or even outright flippancy or hostility from management. Several people we spoke to told us that leaders had reiterated, across multiple meetings, that they couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be more layoffs, with two specifically recalling chief people officer Holly Barbacovi outright stating that layoffs were a “lever” the company would pull again."

"Others said they were rebuffed repeatedly and discouraged from even discussing the layoffs whenever they tried to ask questions. Employees in one department recalled a post-layoffs Q&A session where a department head was asked if leadership taking salary cuts to prevent layoffs had been considered, only to respond that Bungie was 'not that type of company.'"

"Several people we spoke to expressed anger at the layoff of Bungie general counsel Don McGowan, who played a key role in Bungie winning an historic suit against a player who harassed a Bungie developer. Others laid off included a noticeable number of members of Bungie’s DE&I clubs, including co-heads of Pride@Bungie, Women@Bungie, and Accessibility@Bungie. When combined with other recent resource cuts, these dismissals have led to fears these clubs might be shut down."

"'I’m angry. I’m upset. This isn’t what I came here to do,' one person said. 'It feels like many higher ups aren’t listening to the data and are like, "We just need to win our fans back, they still like us." No. They don’t…We got rid of some of our most knowledgeable beloved folks who have been here for 20+ years. Everyday I walk in afraid that I or my friends are next. No one is safe.'"

#emphasis mine #destiny 2

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 23 days

Text

By: Christina Buttons

Published: Apr 4, 2024

[ Figure 2: Representative images of Hematoxylin and Eosin-stained sections of testicular tissue biopsied from the testis from GD patients (A) with and (B) without PB exposure. ]

In a groundbreaking study from the Mayo Clinic, a globally recognized leader in medical research and patient care, researchers examined the effects of puberty blockers on testicular development in gender dysphoric male children. Their investigation revealed evidence of mild to severe atrophy in the sex glands of these children, leading the authors to express doubt in the claims of “reversibility” often made about puberty blockers.

The authors assert, “We provide unprecedented histological evidence revealing detrimental pediatric testicular sex gland responses to [puberty blockers].”

This preprint study, not yet peer-reviewed, presents evidence that puberty blockers induce significant cellular changes, impacting testicular development and sperm production in ways that are not fully reversible, with potentially permanent effects on testicular function and fertility. It challenges the longstanding view of puberty blockers as a reversible "pause button" on puberty.

As noted by the researchers of this study, no long-term studies exist for the use of puberty blockers in the context of stopping puberty for gender dysphoric children, and many potential health consequences remain unknown. In particular, the long-term impact on reproductive health is uncertain, making this study critical for filling this knowledge gap.

To address these unknowns, the Mayo Clinic has established the largest collection of testicular samples for patients aged 0-17 years, including those with gender dysphoria who have and have not yet received puberty blocker treatment, creating a database of over 130,000 individual cells for analysis.

Using a novel approach, the research team meticulously analyzed testicular tissue samples from youths undergoing puberty blocker treatment, with those not on puberty blocker treatment serving as controls. This comparison provides important insights into the potential cellular and molecular changes induced by these drugs.

Key Findings

The study utilized the Mayo Clinic's Pediatric Testicular Biobank for Fertility Preservation, which has been recruiting patients primarily from pediatric urology departments since 2015. Researchers analyzed testicular specimens from 87 young individuals (ages 0-17) undergoing fertility preservation surgery for various health reasons. Among these, 16 were gender dysphoric boys between the ages of 10 and 16, all of whom began identifying as transgender girls between the ages of 2 and 15. At the time of surgery, 9 patients (56%) were already on puberty blockers, with exposure ranging from 3 to 52 months. The authors noted that 100% of the 16 children would eventually go on to take them, highlighting “the widespread nature of PB intervention in this demographic.”

Among nine patients treated with puberty blockers, two exhibited unusual features in their testicles upon physical examination. One patient had abnormalities in both testicles, including incomplete development of the tunica albuginea, which is a protective covering around the testicles. The other patient had a right testicle that was difficult to detect.

In one part of the tissue-level analysis, over 400 testicular biopsy samples were analyzed and stained to examine the differences between those treated with puberty blockers and those who were not. Comparisons showed that testicular development in those treated with puberty blockers was abnormal compared to non-treated individuals. There was variability in how individuals responded to puberty blockers, leading to different outcomes in testicular development, including the degeneration of testicular tissues.

The study authors presented a case of a 12-year-old patient who underwent treatment with puberty blockers for 14 months. In this individual, 59% of the sex glands showed complete atrophy, along with the presence of microlithiasis—a condition where small clusters of calcium form in the testicles. This insight suggests that puberty blockers could lead to lasting structural changes. Additionally, research has shown a link between testicular microlithiasis and testicular cancer.

[ D) Representative images of normal (top) and fully atrophied sex gland (bottom). ]

This study also utilized single-cell analysis to investigate the effects of puberty blockers and aging on testicular cell composition. It took a very detailed look at individual cells from the testicles of a 14-year-old who had been on puberty blockers for over 4 years. The study analyzed a total of 130,100 cells, including 11,199 cells from the juvenile puberty blocker-treated patient.

The study observed that over 90% of the cells responsible for sperm production in this patient were stunted at an early developmental stage, unable to progress further. Additionally, it found "pathologically" higher and lower levels of two types of support cells (Sertoli cells) necessary for healthy sperm development. These findings suggest that puberty blockers can disrupt the normal maturation process of cells critical for sperm production.

In another part of the analysis, the authors found distinct cell-specific changes, including altered expression patterns of puberty-associated genes in endothelial cells, due to puberty blocker treatment. The authors believe that these drugs might induce juvenile testicular atrophy in part by disrupting the normal function of testicular endothelial cells.

Another aspect of the study focused on examining the effects of puberty blockers on the genetic activity of early-stage sperm cells, revealing significant changes that could potentially influence their development and fertility. By analyzing the activity of specific genes within these cells, the researchers found that puberty blockers may have caused alterations in gene expression, affecting processes crucial for the normal growth and function of these cells. This analysis suggests that the use of puberty blockers in gender dysphoric youth could have lasting implications for their reproductive health, particularly by impacting the ability of these early-stage sperm cells to mature properly.

Study Impact

Puberty blockers are increasingly used as a treatment for gender dysphoric youth to halt the development of secondary sex characteristics, such as breast development and widening of hips in females, or the growth of facial hair and deepening of the voice in males. Thousands of children in the United States are placed on this medical pathway as part of the gender-affirming model of care, under the presumption that these drugs are safe and fully reversible.

However, many aspects of the long-term consequences of puberty blockers, which have been administered to children off-label in an experimental manner, remain unknown. This study contributes valuable insights into the potential irreversible harm these treatments can cause to bodily and reproductive functions.

Arguably, the most critical finding is the evidence of mild to severe sex gland atrophy in children treated with puberty blockers. This atrophy signifies potential damage or impairment to the structures essential for sperm production, raising serious concerns about the long-term fertility impacts of these drugs for these individuals.

Given the Mayo Clinic's esteemed reputation in the medical and research communities, should the study pass peer review without any issues, its findings will carry significant weight.

Broader Implications

Puberty blockers belong to a group of synthetic gonadotropin-releasing hormone (GnRH) analogues. These drugs act on the pituitary gland to hinder the release of chemical signals that typically trigger the production of estrogen and testosterone. Historically GnRH analogues were used to treat conditions such as prostate cancer, fibroids, and endometriosis and, in some cases, as a measure to chemically castrate sex offenders.

In children, puberty blockers prevent the natural changes of puberty driven by sex hormones and have been used to treat central precocious puberty, a condition where a child begins to sexually mature much earlier than usual. In gender dysphoria, puberty blockers are administered experimentally, lacking long-term testing.

Notably, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has not approved puberty blockers and sex hormones for use in pediatric gender care. No clinical trials have substantiated the safety of these drugs for such non-approved applications and manufacturers of puberty blockers have repeatedly declined to conduct safety trials for their use on this cohort.

While puberty-blocking drugs are often promoted as “safe,” "reversible" and a "pause button" on puberty, these characterizations seem to stem from their approved use for treating central precocious puberty in younger children, not their burgeoning off-label use for managing gender dysphoria in adolescents.

Past studies have indicated possible negative effects on bone density and brain health. There is also a concern that these drugs might solidify gender dysphoria in adolescents, potentially leading them down a lifelong road of biomedical interventions. Following reports in 2016 of suicidal ideation in children administered puberty blockers, the FDA instructed drug manufacturers to include a warning about potential psychiatric issues on the drugs' labels.

Puberty blockers are increasingly administered to adolescents at Tanner Stage 2, the first signs of puberty. Research shows administering puberty blockers at this stage, followed by cross-sex hormones, may result in infertility, sterility, and sexual dysfunction. Furthermore, they inhibit the development of mature male genitalia, making it difficult to create a pseudovagina in the event of a later vaginoplasty due to a lack of sufficient tissue.

The National Health Service England recently announced it would no longer prescribe puberty blockers to youth outside of research settings and closed down its only national clinical service for pediatric gender medicine, following a review that deemed the service "not safe.”

Several European countries, including Sweden, Finland, the UK, Denmark, and Norway have updated their guidelines for youth transition to align with systematic evidence reviews, the gold standard in evidence-based medicine. These reviews concluded that the risks associated with youth transition outweigh any purported benefits. Consequently, these countries have implemented restrictions on medical interventions, prioritizing psychotherapy as a first-line response for minors experiencing gender-related distress.

They're sterilizing boys and giving them cancer. When "god" does it, we call him evil. When humans do it, we call it "gender affirming care."

#Christina Buttons #puberty blockers #atrophy #medical scandal #medical malpractice #medical corruption #sterilization #fertility #irreversible #gender affirming care #gender affirming healthcare #gender affirmation #queer theory #gender ideology #gender identity ideology #intersectional feminism #religion is a mental illness

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yeyinde · 1 year

Text

riptide | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader

"Thought we lost you." His voice is a crackle; sap popping as it burns in the fire. The log charring in the kindling. There was a battle in his head; artillery fire in the gaps of his eyes. "Thought we— fuck, pet. Thought you were gone, and we couldn't do a damn thing about it." His knuckles graze the mark in your temple, gentle around the tight, irritated flesh—it's proof that you lived, that despite the tragedy of the betrayal from the man you counted on the most, you survived. You made it. You won His touch is featherlight. But his eyes– His eyes are heavy with the promise of nothing but ruin.

(it's like holding a lit cigarette to your pulse.)

part ii of in undertow

tw: gratuitous smut; unfettered filth; gendered reader; f!reader; female anatomy; near death experiences, MAJOR spoilers for the game (seriously, if you haven’t played it are saving it for later, or you haven’t finished, maybe don’t read this yet); PINING; cigarettes after sex was listened to on repreat during the making of this; also, i had “THAT’LL DO!” and “AHUEVO” on a loop, y’all. blame that.

notes: whenever someone asks what “doing the most” means, feel free to point them to this. it’s 16K. fullstop. it was only supposed to be smut. this ended up more plot than porn. but i so wanted the pining; the ambiguity, the danger, the drama. (i mean, this has none of that, but i wanted it.)

i told my very Welsh dad i was in love with an English man, and he said how could you do this to me? and that is pretty much all you need to know about Welsh culture.

Porthmadog hasn't changed much at all since you last washed up on the sandy shores, one hand gripping the strap of your off-duty duffle bag, and the other clenched around your passport. Wound tight. Ready to flee. A constant state of fight or flight.

The air is heady with the scent of the sea. Algae. Seaweed. Salt. Your lungs burn with the thickness of it. The sulphur sits in your throat, sticking to your larynx. It clicks when you swallow, refusing to budge. It curls behind your teeth when you suck the air in through parted, salt-chapped lips; the taste lingers in that strange microcosm of being both achingly nostalgic, and woefully foreign in the same breath.

The streets, too, live there: a realm of vague memories flashing by as your feet tap against the cobblestone. Boots heavy with exhaustion, and jet lag.

You're not ready to face it. Not yet.

Head bowed, you stare at the quasi-familiar cracks on the sandstone, and wonder how everyone else is fairing right now. An hour after takeoff. Soap would have been dropped off, wouldn't he? Safe and sound in Edinburgh.

You're both luckier than your American counterparts—the ones who have a full nine hours left to go.

Bouncing from the Middle East to Europe is a blink.

Europe to America is a whole ocean.

You and Soap played rock, paper, scissors for who got to depart first. In the end, you won. Wales was closer, anyway.

You left them behind with a heaviness that settled in your pericardium, compunction dipping in the valley of your pinched brow.

A strange feeling leaks from the fissures.

Ghost didn't depart.

They didn't stop in England at all. Right to Wales, right to Scotland. America. Mexico.

You try not to think about your prickly Lieutenant, but he flashes behind your eyelids, anyway. A bonfire in the dead of night. Tendrils of smoke drifting into the midnight blue aether. You're too close to the crackling flame. The heat scorches your skin.

He, too, sits heavy in your chest. A spooled cluster of questions bereft of answers. An unknown chasm gaping below. What it all means–

You woke up when the interior lights of the jet flickered on a few rows ahead, the jaundiced glow rousing you from your slumber. Your temple rested on something warm. Firm, sturdy. You blinked into existence, the ghost of a breath on your lips; a passing dream now left behind to rot. A world, forever unattainable, dissolving into nothing. Sand on your fingertips.

The world knits back into the cold clutch of reality: you're on a plane, and–

And you find yourself staring at tightly woven black thread. A balaclava.

Your eyes dart up.

The pad in his hands bathes him in iridescent light. It casts shadows on his face, in the pocks of his mask, and illuminates the white of the artificial bones. The paint used is tinged blue, brushed with cyan where it meets the black.

His lidded eyes crest low as he stares at the screen—a profile open on a man named Zyani stares back. Your eyes don't linger too long, pulled, instead, to the man you're leaning against. The coal under his eyes is smudged, nearly eroded away in the inner corners. You wonder if he rubbed them earlier, eyes gritty and heavy, but refusing to close. He won't sleep on the plane. He never does.

You don't usually, either.

Why didn't he wake you? Why did he let you stay?

There is no time for discussion—not on a jet that reeks of testosterone with ears everywhere. It will have to wait; shelved for another time when Gaz isn't snoring a few pews away, and Soap hasn't been glancing at you in intervals since you sat down.

Bonnie… you can almost hear him say. What are you doin'?

You can hear the steady breaths he takes, the sound swells through you.

It's the first time you've seen him so relaxed since–

Where are you going? Loose-limbed, one hand still wrapped around his softening cock, the other settles on the bend where your thigh meets the crease of your hip, fingers ghosting over the knob of your bone. His eyes are half moons. I didn't say I was finished with you yet, pet.

You shudder, a quiet breath leaving your lips. It draws his attention. His shoulder tenses under you. His head tilts just enough for him to slide his gaze from the screen balanced on his thick thighs to your open stare.

His eyes are liquid. Honeyed words over smouldering charcoal. "Alright?"

Your lungs quiver with your inhale. Outside of the acrid smell of ammunition, ozone, and gunfire, he carries something musky in his scent. Driftwood. Salt—sweat, blood, the sea. It's potent. You breathe him in again, lids lowering. You hold his scent there, nestled in the gummy webbing of your lungs, dripping down your throat.

Your eyes feel gritty when they slip shut. Anchors pull them down. You nod your head, slow and languid, murmuring your assent in a barely coherent mumble. The drag of his rough fatigues under your cheek, the straps of his tactical vest grinding into your cheekbone. And then—awareness. It startles you back into reality. Your eyes pop open, meeting the black pools above.

You wish you could chisel open his head, and read whatever it is that might be lingering in those unfathomable depths. His expression is shuddered, hidden by the thick of his mask. Eyes lidded and heavy and narrowed right on you.

Intense focus.

Sometimes, the others talk about Ghost like he's a berserker. A wild, untamed beast let loose in the shadows. Even the vilest people pale when they see him—his larger-than-life frame lingering in the background—and it's fear that dances in the cut of their brow, in their shaking glare.

You heard stories, of course.

Those always paled in comparison to seeing him on the field.

You got it, then, why no one mocked him. Why even the worst of the worst never bothered with leading him around by the nose.

He asked a question, and they answered.

For a long while, you thought it was his heigh. His size. Immense power. Expert precision.

But no. It's just him. Those eyes. His presence.

He doesn't just receive attention, he commands it.

You should move. You're awake, now. There is no reason for such intimacy with your Lieutenant, for a man more distant and unreachable than the sea.

You should.

But you don't.

He's warm milk under your chin. Heat bleeds into your skin from the firm bracket of his body. Ghost smells good—sweat and timbre—and feels even better. You could sleep again like this. Lashes fan down, sleep digs into the back of your eyes. You force them open.

Your fingers are tucked into the crook of his arm, pressed tight to his chest; there's a note of domesticity in the way he breathes with you, a palpable weight that falls on you like a thick quilt. His muscles jump. Body tense.

Eyes on you. Always.

But then they're gone. A flutter. They cut out to the pews, and you follow his gaze. Price wades closer.

The bubble pops. You're clinging to your Lieutenant like it's a luxury you're allowed.

Like it's something commonplace.

There is distance in his eyes when they flicker to you. The molasses hardened into something once again unreachable. A wall now sits between you.

(Maybe, that conversation will never come, after all.)

You should have known better than to let yourself want.

The air is crisp when you draw it in. The chill hurts your teeth.

You slip your fingers out from the wedge of his arm and ribs, already mourning the loss of him under your flesh—ticking muscles coiled tight; velvet draped iron. Ghost says nothing when you move, but his gaze is heavy on you when you fold yourself back into your seat. Proper, now. Lieutenant and soldier. You press yourself as far away from him as you can until your arms dig into the plastic around the window, and sit straight—as if you weren't sleeping on his shoulder.

As if he didn't let you.

He looks away when Price takes the bench on the opposite side, offers a nod.

Price echoes it. Flashes a tight smile your way.

Then his eyes linger. Not on you. Not on Ghost. He rests his pensive gaze on the sliver of space between the two of you. Where Ghost's bulky arm takes several inches of space up on your own seat, flesh glued together, parting only at the elbows. He's too big to get away from. Takes up all the space—

(—in your lungs, in your head, in your—)

Price, mercifully, isn't the type of man to pry. His brows buoy on his head, a fleeting glance sent in Ghost's direction, and then he's all business. Astute leader. Battle-ready even on a sleepy jet.

He clears his throat. "Where are you headed?"

It's for you.

Gaz is going to America with the men you'd picked up for this mission. His offer for you to join was swiftly rejected. The invitations from the Mexican operatives, notably Alverez, to come and enjoy the coast were also rejected.

"Is Soap going home?" You ask, hands fisting into balls on your lap.

Price's smile is wan. "He is. Not joining Gaz on his American adventure."

"Misadventure, more like." Ghost's dry tone makes your toes curl.

You can still hear the way he growled out pet.

You huff. "I'm…"

There is nowhere for you to go.

—Well. Nowhere else.

(Your knees ache, chafed and raw. Pebbles dig into your skin.)

"Wales," you murmur. You hear the ruffle of fabric when Ghost dips his head to look at you. "Whatever is easier. I'll take a taxi."

"Right," Price nods. "Get some rest while you're home."

It sounds like a dismissal.

Baleen lines fill your periphery when you turn your head. Your gaze sticks to the crease where his chin meets his neck. You can't bring yourself to look up.

"Better go fight it out with Soap."

He doesn't stop you when you stand, when you squeeze past him, thighs brushing his knees.

He says nothing at all when you depart.

(Don't think about it. Don't get your hopes up—)

The town is silent save your heavy steps on the cobblestone. In the distance, the roar of the ocean crashes along the beige shore.

Something inside of you begins to crumble.

(Too late.)

The woman by the apartment block greets you warmly, but the words are a strange amalgam of vowels and consonants that do not belong together. Her accent sounds English. The words make no sense to you.

Your bewilderment must show on your face. Her smile dips, a touch of laughter paints her words when she says, in English:

Sorry, dove. I thought you were Welsh.

It feels a little bit like a slap to the wrist. Naughty child… mind your manners, and speak your tongue.

"I'm not…," you murmur, chastised despite having done nothing wrong.

Wales isn't where you came from. Here is not the place of your birth. It's a paradoxical realm: a land where you were taken to as a child, and told welcome home; all memories erased of the other times they said the exact same thing. A taboo, now. Faux pas. A fresh start (for the nth time). Welcome home.

It's the place you stayed the longest, though. Your developing years from a child to a teenager, to a spiteful preadolescent with too much to prove, and an ocean to live up to.

(You wonder if the pavement is still stained red.)

You know Welsh. Have spoken it for years. You came, fresh-faced and chubby-cheeked, and the ladies cooed while they taught you the words.

But it's buried. They are covered in dust; a forgotten relic. You remember pieces of the greeting, but your lips are no longer used to forming them. Your tongue is too heavy, too foreign.

You say nothing at all, trailing off into a stifling silence.

"Right," her brows knot, rheumy eyes regard you warily. "Do you need a hotel—?"

"I live here."

You bend down, peeling the pristine welcome mat back, and fish out the key you keep tucked away. Years of training echo in the background; a firm voice rings out, one that sounds suspiciously like Ghost's, barking out how that's trouble. You'll come home to a world of hurt if you keep doin' that, soldier.

(You already do.)

You pull your duffle bag up when it slips, and nod at the bemused woman.

It's not much of a homecoming.

It never is.

The flat you own is barren. A bed that feels too comfortable at night for you to ever truly relax on is shoved into the bedroom, a wardrobe with civilian clothes, a shoe rack in the foyer. A kitchen that's always empty.

You mostly sleep on the worn, old couch where the springs dig into your shoulder blades, and remind you of that night you spent in Sierra Leone, belly full of yabeh. Ghost a hair's length away from you. His gloved hand brushing yours.

The duffle bag falls to the tiles with a heavy thud. Your passport will go in the safe along with all of your other belongings—clearance badge, certificates, your guns—until the call comes in for your next mission.

You hope it's soon. That Shepherd and Laswell trudge up some calamity that will take you far away from this place. A long-haul mission. The kind where you go deep into the trenches, and when you surface, it feels like an aeon has passed.

It's too quiet at night.

Your home reeks of dust. Disuse.

You settle on the couch, eyes fixed on the popcorn ceiling, and pretend you can't feel his shoulder under your head even now.

A world away, and you still think of him.

(Always, always.)

Shepherd calls you weeks later. A secret mission with the Shadow Company, he tells you. When you ask about the others, his voice is tight.

Just you, soldier. Just you.

Breaking up the Task Force isn't unheard of. Ghost does so many secretive missions on his own that meeting people he worked with in the past on a group venture isn't at all a rarity anymore. Price is the same. Soap, sometimes, too.

There isn't much else to do.

(You held your phone in your hand each night for those weeks, finger hovering over the CALL button. Two letters— Lt— on the contact screen. His profile picture is a dune of sand.

It never rang. You never called.)

You give your affirmative, and go to the coordinates where his operatives will be waiting for you.

"Show me what you got," he says, a challenge in his voice.

Your grin is sharp. "Always, Actual."

Phillip Graves meets you with a wide grin on his face. The American flag on his fatigues sticks out against the green. So used to the British flag, you can't stop your eyes from sliding down to it, drawn like a beacon.

(Maybe, in a bygone era, it, too, might have been home.)

"Welcome aboard, soldier." His eyes flash in the setting sun. Eager. Heavy. You echo it in your own smile. "Let's get these son'of'a'bitches."

You're back at the bottom.

The Shadow Operatives stare at you when they think you aren't looking. Low murmurs fill the jet— princess, chick, girl— and you gazed, pointedly, out the window.

Your hands itch; the phantom scabs prickle.

It makes you miss 141 more than you thought possible. Gaz, Price, Soap, Ghost. They flicker in your mind, and you wonder what they'd do in this situation.

How would they prove themselves to everyone around them?

(Answer: they wouldn't.)

The only one who isn't pushing you in a box is Graves.

"Heard great things about you," his smile crests over his lips. Eyes hungry. Ready for battle. "Can't wait to see what you can do."

He worked with Ghost a month ago. You find this out when he mentions it offhand. Secret mission with your Lieutenant. Is he always that much of an asshole—?

Actual is in your ear, stay alert. Keep your eyes out, always. Never know what you might miss.

But it's Ghost you think of.

(Always, always.)

"He's not an asshole," you say, shrugging. "Just a man who cares too much."

Almost immediately, you want to swallow the words back down. Stupid. Stupid. You force yourself to remain still, nonchalant.

(How presumptuous of you to think you know him.)

Military likes to gossip. It'll come back to him somehow. The little rookie who stuck up for him. Who said he cared.

Graves' eyes flicker. "That right?"

You blush. English is gone. The only language in your throat is Welsh.

(Graves' guffaw echoes in the jet.)

Graves purses his lips, rolling them from side to side, as you sift through the documents in front of you. He's been pacing the room for the last ten minutes while you meticulously translate each paper in your grasp. Agitation bleeds through the usual warmth in his countenance.

It's tense. A slaughter.

His compatriots flank all of the exits; sounds of gunfire resound through the compound.

The infiltration was easy.

This—

This is not.

"So…," he drawls, the thick accent is warm, but his voice is constricted; pinched. "Heard you were the best at sniffing things out. What do you think?"

"It's not—," you pause, eyes skimming the page, squinting at it.

"What?"

His tone is sharp. Icy. The usual warmth dissipates into a palpable tension; a tight unease.

The shift is strange. Focus on the mission.

"It's not just Konni in this. They're being backed."

"That so?"

You suck in a deep breath. "We should leave. Tell Actual what's going on–"

"Yeah," he intones, crouching down in front of you. His eyes are placid. "We'll do just that."

It all happens so fast. A clichè, really, but a fitting one.

Head turned out the window of the cargo van, deadly missiles being dragged behind. Your mind is full, racing. Nothing makes sense.

You wish Ghost was here. Price. Soap. They're the ones you use to bounce ideas off of: this is what is happening, this is the missing equation, and this is what I think.

Good, bonnie. Now, tell us something we don't know.

And what if the equation is wrong?

Crafty, soldier. How do we prove it?

And then the world shatters.

Konni Operates. A gun to your head. Graves yelling in the distance; spitting curses, threats. Actual in your ear— you'll die here, soldier.

Chaos. Death presses cold metal to your forehead, snapped words in rapid-fire Russian, too fast for you to pick up.

The only ones that leak through are oozing glee. I'm going to blow your head off.

A dead-end. You think of Gaz—the closest to you in age, passing jokes back and forth; playing Never Have I Ever when the missions lull, the others looking on with amusement.

Kids these days, they scoff.

Have you seen this video? He asks, dropping into the vacant seat beside you. Ghost looks up. It's a club in London.

Soap huffing when you ask if he wants to come. Too old for that, bonnie.

You kids have fun, Price says, lips twitching. A rare show of amusement from the man. But I'll have to pass.

What if we went to a pub instead, you geezer? You chuckle.

Geezer? He nudges Ghost to his left, eyes dry. You've been rubbing off on the kids.

You meet his stare over the plastic table. Smile turns shy. Wanna come with us, Lt?

He holds it. Halfmoon. Eclipse. Liquid black. Negative, soldier.

You try not to let the sting of rejection show. It's stupid. Stupid—

Nice one, kid.

Y'did good, bonnie.

Let's show these old boys what us kids can do, yeah?

Their voices echo in your mind. One rings louder than the others. A sharp bark. Gravel shattering. Move, soldier!

You're a dutiful soldier. You never disobey a command from your superior officer. From him.

White-hot pain splits across your temple. The world turns static. You're falling down, down, down—

Waves lap at your body, tugging you out to sea. The briny water fills your throat.

Stay alert, soldier. The General. Voices.

"Well, shit." Graves. He sounds distant. Far away.

You think of Sierra Leone. Your first mission.

Hiding in a concrete house with no windows, no doors, no cover. Gunfire booming across the landscape, cloaked in the pitch black darkness of night. Flickers of yellow-red light pop in the distance.

You don't breathe. Don't make a sound. Your hands tremble around your rifle. Eyes wavering.

Warmth against your back. You startle. A gloved hand over your mouth. The brush of a balaclava against your neck.

"Easy, soldier. They'll see you if you jump."

They'll see you—

"They dead?" A boot knocks against your calf.

You go limp.

"Yeah," Graves. Companion. Comrade. Be careful who you trust, soldier. All you have right now is yourself. Trust your gut; you're on your own.

Copper on your tongue. You let it pool between your teeth, keeping it held in the space between your lips. It tastes of pennies. You try not to choke.

Sir… you whisper the words against his tactical vest. Feel the shift of his body when he looks at you from over his shoulder. Let's get yabeh after this.

We're not on holiday, soldier.

Really? Feels like one.

You need to get out more.

Yeah… maybe…

C'mon, now. Stay with me, pet.

Always… sir. Always…

You drag him to someplace you'd heard of through your new friends–best yabeh in all of Salone; gotta try the Jollof, too, Sesay insists–and he fits in like a sore thumb.

You both stand out, really. Foreigners in the middle of a place visited only by locals. Him in his denim trousers, and short-sleeved shirt, tactical vest fixed on his chest; his mask stays on. A ball cap low over his brow. He exudes danger. The rippling musculature of a tiger. The stealth of a panther.

You—nondescript and tiny beside him.

There is something to be said about seeing your new Lieutenant in denim. In the custom facemask instead of the full balaclava.

With the baleen lines missing over his chin and neck, he almost feels too exposed to you. Too vulnerable. Too open.

You can't stop fixing your gaze on the scant flesh, uncovered, above the collar of his shirt. His arms, bulky, and big, fold over his massive chest.

He barely fits inside the small booth.

Your eyes dance. Amusement. A roseate veil shudders over you—a novice, a rookie—and high off of the success of a mission.

"Sesay says this is the best place in town."

"Sesay says a lot of things, don't he?"

You blink, fingers tapping against the worn wood of the table. It's hot in Sierra Leone. A wet swelter that brands your skin with white-hot intensity. It's different from the dryness of the Sahara.

Somehow, his tone is drier than the arid desert you crawled out of. Drier than the burning heat of the massive sun.

"That he does…," you agree, floundering.

Was this a mistake? Maybe you shouldn't have come here. What were you thinking? Dragging your superior out for dinner. You flush. It's barely discernable from the blistering sunburn over the bridge of your nose. Unfamiliar with the intense sun that scorches the land.

You're drowning, now. Wallowing in this limbo of uncertainty. Maybe you should have just come later with Sesay and Abdul. They asked you when you pestered for directions, but you met Ghost's stare from over their shoulders, and hadn't heard a thing of what they were saying once you met him in the middle.

He's a whole head taller than everyone he meets. Massive. The locals' baulk at him: this huge, terrifying being with a skull on his face, cutting through the throng of people like a tank.

There was so much going on once you started the mission. After the Intel was gathered, and the forces were ready, those long nights spent inside a tent that was barely big enough for yourself let alone the behemoth bulk of your Lieutenant came to an end. It was abrupt. Sudden.

It was just you and him.

And then it was a sea of people.

You'd spent the better part of a year pouring over documents in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by Scorpions and sand, and him.

The tent was deadly during the day; balmy with a humidity fit for the Amazon. At night, any complaints you might have had about the heat turned into regrets. It was freezing. You could see white clouds of condensation when you breathed out.

You'd lie next to each other. Grains of sand is the only thing keeping you apart. He was warm—bonfire hot.

You'll be frustrated, mad. That's normal when you spend so much time with a stranger. You might argue, bicker. But just focus on the mission. This is a test of camaraderie as much as it is endurance.

It wasn't like that at all. It was—

Seamless.

His ebb and flow were easy to adjust to. Maybe, it was the fact that you were a neophyte that made it so. Too afraid to let the bundle of frustration rear when this was your first mission. Your first test.

But—

It wasn't quite like that. You found that you enjoyed his company. His barbed insults spoken in a flat, serious tone often flew over the heads of the men you had to work with, but you grew accustomed to them. Enjoyed them, even. He was—

An enigma. A year later, and you know nothing about Simon Riley, and as much as he'll allow about Ghost. There is distance still, but;

It wanes. It cracks. Fills with the sharpness of his sarcasm, the stoic dedication to his mission; the grains of sand that stick to his sweat-slicked forehead. The deep hue of red from the mask he refuses to take off.

You'll suffocate, you quip, eyes glued to the paper in front of you.

Don't worry about me.

That's a silly thing to say…

It ain't. You shouldn't.

Mindless, stupid: well, I do.

Silence. Brutal and stifling. Then: focus on the mission, Rookie. Not on me.

You'd hummed noncommittally. It slipped into the back of your head, eyes fixed on the numbers in front of you.

But it wells, now. When Sesay asks if you want to go with him for dinner, when he tells you how to get there, and what to order.

Not on me.

Your eyes haven't left his. He holds your stare.

The chossy wobbles, cracks. Your hand on his arm. C'mon, boss, let's eat. It stays there while you lead him through winding valleys. The heat of his arm—bare, veins ticking under your palm, too burly for you to wrap your whole hand around the thick of him—bleeds into you. You, cold-blooded, leach the warmth from his flesh.

And now—

He doesn't eat when dinner is brought out. Doesn't take his mask off.

You watch him through the steam that wafts off the Jollof rice, his eyes roaming around the room like clockwork, looking for something that might strike. Hyper-vigilant. Wary. Cold. Distant.

A puzzle not meant to be put together, but your fingers itch with the urge to try.

Why did he come, you wonder. Why didn't he say no?

As if hearing your thoughts, his eyes are on yours. Tendrils of translucent white fog the air between you. His brow pinches. Lids crest.

It punches the air from your lungs. There is a phantom heat in your palm. Your hands shake around the fufu in your grasp, tightening around the tacky food until it bulges between your fingers.

The syphoned heat begins to simmer in your belly.

It bubbles over, blustering through your insides when his head pulls close, chin over the table, and says:

You did good, rookie. Might make a soldier of you, yet.

You bow your head. "Cachu hwch."

"English, soldier."

You shake your head. "N-nothing, sir… burnt my tongue."

You wake up in an empty hospital room. It was early August when you left for Al Mazrah. The calendar on your wall says it's now late September.

The space in between is a blur. Left in the mud. Graves was taken. Was he okay–

You don't remember anything after the point of passing out in the mud, and waking up—sick from infection, burning from a fever—and finding yourself strapped down on a jet. Medics surround you.

You'll be okay, you'll be fine–

You'd passed out again. The world slipping away until you felt the heat on your shoulder blades. The scent of yabeh thick in your nose.

You move, sluggish and heavy, on the rough hospital bed, fingers gripping the sheets below.

You still feel the grit of sand against your arm.

Heat in your belly.

(Cachu hwch, indeed.)

Shepherd calls you a day later on the phone in your private room. Your prison. The men outside say you're not allowed to leave. It's dangerous.

"Did good out there, rookie."

"Thanks, Actual," you murmur, hands clenched around the receiver. "Couldn't have done it without your help. Without you."

You want to ask about Graves. About your team.

You remember the rapid Russian spat in your ear. And this one? You bite your tongue, body pickling with unease.

"Rest up, now. My boys will be keeping an eye on you. They'll keep you safe."

You are discharged at the end of October.

Hands pressed against the still-healing scar on your temple. They peeled the bandage off yesterday.

The infection made it worse. It wasn't healing with the sickness you had. You're lucky some local boys found you in the mud when they did. You would have died.

Laswell finds you outside. Hand against her throat, eyes wide.

She looks like she's seen a ghost.

You certainly feel like one.

The ride to your safehouse is punctuated by a game of catch-up. She tells you about the mission they went on, the one you were exempt from.

The phone calls from Soap, Gaz make sense now. Straight to voicemail.

Hey, you skimpin' out on us, yeah? Skippin' duty? Not like you at all. Kinda worried, y'know? Text me somethin'. You know I don't like callin'. Anyway… we're keepin' it together, yeah? But kinda freakin' out. Uhh… anyway—

Not like you to miss one, bonnie. Call me when you can, aye? Want to make sure you're okay.

Price calls nine times. Leaves no voicemail.

A single text from Ghost. Wheels up at 16:00. Expect to see you there.

You didn't get your phone back until today. These were sent at the end of October.

The clock on your screen reads 2nd November.

"No one knew…," you murmur, hands clenched around the metal. "Why didn't Shepherd—"

"Shepherd said you were sent on recon. Said something happened. He didn't tell the others—just me and Price. Didn't want to distract them from the job."

"When did you find out?"

"That you were alive?" Her lips thinned, skin paling. "Yesterday."

"Where are they now?"

"That's confidential."

A scoff. "Sure. Now, off the record…"

"Mexico."

Something doesn't feel right at all. It sits like an anvil in your stomach.

"Laswell…"

"Get some rest," she says, even. Her eyes are glossy when she stares at you. "We'll keep you updated. I'm sure everyone will be relieved to know you're alive."

Your phone rings two days later.

The screen flashes. Lt.

Your hands tremble when you answer it.

"It was Shepherd," he admits.

Your head swims with the admission. Shepherd. Did good out there, rookie. Now, stay good. Stay alert. Keep your eyes out, always. Never know what you might miss.

"Is he–?"

"No," he grouses, the word a sliver short of being a growl. "He's alive. Graves is dead."

It hits you in the sternum—a punch unlike any other you'd received. Air knocked from your lungs, chest throbbing in agony, you sink down into your bed, fingers gripping the sheets until your knuckles bleach white.

This shouldn't have happened.

This is what you do. It's your purpose. It's your job. Your role. You were selected by Shepherd, by Laswell, Price for that, for your ability to gather information, to weed out the moles, the rats. To sniff them out, and puncture holes in their ship until they sank to the bottom, secrets leaking out.

The words roll out of your mouth before you stop them.

"I should have been there."

The tremulous quiver makes you wince. Weakness. You're not weak. You're not—

Ghost won't see it as such, you know this; he doesn't really react to the harsh emotions of others. He carries an unwavering focus, rapt attention to the overarching mission, the end goal; pragmatic, astute on the battlefield, he doesn't flinch.

It's a toss-up if he'll ever respond. If he does, it's usually with a dry, biting dismissal. Sarcasm with him often rides the line of being too sincere, and too flat. It's not just murky, but opaque. He'll say something—equal parts scathing and wise: it's already done, no sense dwelling on what you can't change. Do better next time.

The bite in his words hurt; it was enough to make even the most impassive man irritated by the blunt, almost cruel tinge to his tone.

But it's later when the message will unravel itself. When you're lying alone in your cot, picking over the things he said, and why he said them, and then—

Oh.

Do better next time.

Right.

A soft sound. The rush of air being inhaled through clenched teeth.

Then: "I'm glad you weren't."

Silence. Your heart thunders. I'm glad you weren't.

It could mean a lot of things. A lot of bad things, but:

He thought you were either dead, or missing, or just—gone. You get it:

The last job didn't kill you—the evidence stacks in your head; one conclusion drawn:

It should have. It was meant to.

Your brush with death was a footnote. Nothing at all in the grand scheme of things.

They wanted you dead. They failed.

Soap called you last night, voice tight. You good, bonnie?

Getting there, you joked. Actual had my back. Graves, too. I'm alive because of them.

You choke.

"You alright?"

It's on the tip of your tongue to say yeah. The usual response. Practised. Easy. Distant. But you think of his words, and your ears ring with the deep husk of his voice. He was honest with you. Open. And that's—

Your words are a rush, dipped in vulnerability. "I don't want to be alone right now."

Too much. Too honest.

Too open.

You flinch. Heart thudding in your throat.

Ghost makes you feel like an exposed wire. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Raw.

He says your name—a low, brassy rasp that tickles the back of your neck. It's rare for him to call you by your given name. It's much too intimate. Too—

Well. It's just too much. You want to lean into it, to drape yourself in the rich utterance. Have it whispered into your ear late at night, while he fucks into you the same way he bucked into his hand.

And in the morning when he first wakes. When he rolls over, body folding over your own. Lips against the shell of your ear. A husky rasp; the word dragged over gravel.

You want it, want him, in ways that are unattainable.

Domestic.

You gasp. "I–um. Thanks," you fumble over your words, head roaring with the realisation that there is more than just attraction in the way your heart flutters in your chest; the downy soft wings of a small bird ruffling its fresh plumage. "I'll… talk later."

Your name is barked through the phone when you pull it away. It's cut off before he can finish.

They video call you from some pub.

The sight of them together—Gaz, Soap, Price, Laswell, Ghost—makes you smile.

"Christ, bonnie." Soap's eyes are fixed on the line near your temple. Scabbed. Plum colour. Healing, but not yet there. An inch over, and you'd have been—

You flinch, shrugging. "Could be worse–"

"What happened?" It's a command. You try not to tremble at the bark in Ghost's tone. Perhaps Laswell didn't tell them everything.

His eyes are wide, the whites cresting over the puddles of black. You can't match his stare. You drop, darting to the clock in the corner.

It's Laswell who tells them about the mission with the Shadow Company. Graves. Shepherd.

"...Fuckin', aye." Gaz murmurs. He echoes Ghost's question. "What happened? No one told us anything. We thought— and then Shepherd said you were out for the mission. Not that—that you'd been— "

It falls silent. They don't know about the mission's end aside from Shepherd's lies. Laswell knows. She was the first face you saw in the hospital.

Let's talk…

"We were ambushed," you start, shrugging again. Blasé. Nonchalant. You pretend you can't feel the intensity of Ghost's stare through the screen. "I… they were going to shoot me. I got away. Got a scratch—," a scoff from Soap, a murmur of more than a scratch, aye; you ignore it. "They thought I was dead, so they left me there…"

There is more to it. Graves. The whispers in your head. Them, in your final moments. Agents outside your hospital door. Two inches from death. A day away from rotting.

You swallow it down. It doesn't matter. It happened and now it's over.

"Bonnie…," there is something raw in Soap's voice. It pricks your pericardium.

Left for dead. Abandoned by everyone around you. The ones you trusted the most. Your own team didn't even look. Had no time to mourn, no time to worry.

You know what they must see; the lines they must be drawing. How they, themselves, currently feel, and what they would do if it were them instead of you. It—

It hurts.

"I'd have joined you at the pub," you murmur, voice a shaky worble, before he can say anything else. "But–," you lift your head, eyes downcast. A facsimile of a smile flickers. You wonder if it hits the mark. "Maybe next time."

Price nods in your periphery. "Listen—"

"I'll be ready for Makarov," you interrupt. "I'm… I gotta go, though. Am I — can I be dismissed?"

"...Yeah, yeah you can."

You hang up without another word.

In the silence of your flat—in a land more foreign to you than the Sahara—you break.

Your night dissolves into a series of firsts in quick succession:

A knock on your door. No one knows that you live here. No one but Laswell when she dropped you off. The rheumy-eyed lady with knobby knuckles who mutters at you in warm Welsh. Words you pretend you can't understand.

Shepherd, too, because he needed a location to put down on paper. A place to find you if they couldn't get a hold of you.

You think it might be him—back for vengeance—and you hold your pistol in your hands, back pressed flat against the wall. One hand drops the brass doorknob.

"Who is it?"

A beat.

"It's me." A thick baritone—enough, you think, pulse racing, to rattle the door with his voice alone. "It's Simon."

Simon. Not Ghost—

Right. Off-duty, now. Until you get a lead on Makarov.

Your Lieutenant knocking on your door at—gritty eyes flicker to the stovetop in the kitchen—quarter to five in the evening is another first. Almost paradoxical, really.

Gun shoved into the holster, you turn to face the wood. Through the little window above, covered by a paper-thin curtain, you can see the dark shape of him, unmoving, as he stands on your porch.

There are a number of reasons why he'd be here, but only one makes you yearn.

You pull the door open, and the sight of him makes you dizzy. Hypoxia. Seasickness. Homesick.

He's dressed as casually as Simon is capable of. Black hoodie, wet on the hood from the snow that falls in clumps outside. A black beanie on his head. Skull mask flat against the bridge of his nose. Denim. Black boots.

The coal around his eyes is smudged. A nebula of pale skin through a black oasis.

"What—?"

"Shepherd." Right. He could have called. Got the Intel from Laswell. His words leave no room for argument when he lets out an amalgam of a snarl, a growl; it's ground to dust when he says: "we need to talk."

"Not—," you don't want him to see the emptiness inside. The vacancy. Militaristically barren. Lonely. "Not here…"

Shepherd was here, too. Not him, specifically—maybe. You don't know for certain. But his agents, definitely. Polluting the inside.

It's a flimsy excuse. You hear the threadbare conviction in your tone.

"Shepherd was here," you say, and then wince. "Not now, I mean—"

The words die on your tongue. Ghost— Simon —is smart. Of course he wouldn't think Shepherd was here now. He'd fled. Went into hiding. You shift on your feet.

He can read you like no one else.

(You wonder if anyone at all can read him.)

You flounder. "I don't want…not here…"

"Where do you want to go?"

Somewhere stiflingly hot. "Anywhere."

Simon doesn't press. He never does. His head rolls, tips toward the street. "C'mon, then. Get your stuff."

He reads it on your face, in the things you don't say. It reminds you of Sierra Leone— eat, rookie, you haven't all day; get some sleep, you're dead on your feet; I'll take the first watch— and the memory clots behind your ribs.

"Okay," you murmur.

You feel his gaze on your back when you turn around. The door is left open. He doesn't follow.

There is a chill in the air when you step outside, bundled up in a knit sweater that does little to stem the frigid sea breeze from cutting through the cracks in the threaded cable.

It's a cold night in Porthmadog.

Snow falls in clumps from the indigo-smeared sky, sticking to the cobblestone under your feet.

Simon says nothing as you walk out of the apartment block. He stays close to you, so close you could inch your elbow out and touch him. The heat from his body is a beacon. You're at war with yourself, struggling not to get pulled into his current, and swept out to sea.

Despite the closeness, there is a distance in the way he paces. Eyes roaming under the hood, taking in the lights strewn overhead, lingering on the alcoves where someone might hide.

Having him here feels a little surreal. Porthmadog is off-limits to everyone—it's a place where you come to rot.

His presence shatters the sense that it doesn't really exist outside of those long nights when you stare up at the ceiling, and want. A metaphysical realm that laps at the cracks inside of you, eroding the thick veneer you cobbled together over the years until it withers away, and you have to patch it up when you get called in for another assignment.

Intact soldier. Whole. Nile.

It's a place, now. Real. Tangible.

Seeing Simon—Ghost, Lt—walk beside you down Lombard Street, footfalls echoing through the winding road, makes something churn in your guts. It sits inside, and feels a little like finality.

How could you possibly come back to a place you pretend doesn't exist? A place that is just en-route to wherever else you have to go?

A place you come to because you have nowhere else.

You can't come back here now that the streets are tainted with the nitroglycerin scent of Simon. A bonfire on the beach. The burning logs doused in kerosene. The miasma will suffocate you.

It clots inside of your lungs, sticking to the gummy lining when you breathe him in.

He smells of bourbon. Cigarettes. Carries the scent of everyone else with him—Gaz's cologne: thick vetiver; the sickly sweet tang of Price's cigars; thick metallic: ozone and gasoline that Soap wears after a mission—and you greedily take it in.

You let it sit, red-hot barbed wire, against your chest.

Your eyes slip. Illegal. Wrong. They find him, always. Bathed in the streetlight above; flushed yellow. It casts shadows on him, and makes his eyes look lighter.

A peaking shoal in the middle of the midnight blue ocean.

He's dangerous. Makes your fingers prickle with want; with the urge to touch.

Makes you greedy.

Stupid.

Despite not knowing the area, Simon cuts through the supine street like he's familiar with it already. Maybe, he is. He must have looked at the map on his phone before he got here, eyes locked on the space, the landscape. Mentally cataloguing each hiding spot.

You follow him—a stranger in your own home—and cross your arms over your chest when the thick chatter carries from inside the shops along the street. Heavy Welsh. Warm milk and honey.

Salt in your wounds.

You don't belong here.

The familiar green of the carpet and flooring shop nearly makes you trip, but you steady yourself. Ball your hands into fists by your side, and drop your gaze to the cracked ground below.

You can feel the moment his gaze shifts, sliding over to you. It bores into your temple; abrasive, and grating.

Goosebumps erupt over your flesh. You blame it all on the cold—the stutter in your chest, the ache in your lungs, the shiver dancing down your spine. The frigid weather. The icy breeze.

Another shiver rolls through you, different this time, when you catch sight of the park.

Your chin hits the pavement. Palms sliding through jagged gravel. Knees splitting.

Your blood puddles on the grey rocks.

They crack you open. Nothing spills from the gaping hole.

"You with me?"

You blink. The reverie shakes, shudders. The little girl with her chin on the ground warbles.

Simon stands there, his back to the streetlights. His presence makes the image distort, and bend to fit him inside. It doesn't belong.

"What's a'matter with you?"

You flinch at his voice, and peer up at him from under clumpy, wet lashes, heavy with melting snow.

The words are harsh, but his tone is—

He steps forward, a few paces ahead. You didn't realise you stopped.

He doesn't come to a halt until there is barely an arm's length of space between you, and seeing him this close to you, his face concealed, blank and empty, has that strange feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach again.

His lashes are blond. It surprises you. You'd always imagined he had black hair. Black hair, black eyes.

It's blonde.

You don't know why it matters, why you can't stop staring at the soft wisps around his lids. They flutter shut, fanning across the smudged ink skin under his eyes. The tips are blond. The bottoms are ash. They're nice, you note, a flavour of that same something blistering through you.

His lids slide open, the corner tightening as his gaze sharpens, focusing on you. "Y'alright?" He asks again, waiting for an answer.

You swallow, and it tastes of sand. Gritty, and painful when it slips down your throat. Your voice is a rasp, a shiver above a whisper, when you say, "yeah. "

His eyes tighten again, deeper this time. Something flashes in those polychrome depths. Under the hat, his brow pulls taut together.

The indent makes your fingers itch, the urge to reach out, to soothe it, is nearly overwhelming.

"You lyin' to me?" He grumbles, an edge to his voice you can't place.

"No," you mutter, the words dragged out of you by force. "Just a —a headache."

He has a look in his eyes that makes you think he knows, somehow. That he can chisel inside your head, and rummage through all the secrets you try to keep.

Your neck aches from having to tip your chin back so much to even look at him, the 90-degree angle making you feel dizzy. The opposite of vertigo where you sometimes look up at the unending sky yawning overhead and feel that tendril of fear curling around you, admixing the awe, until you feel the urge to dig your fingers into the ground, and hold on. You can't fall up, but in those moments, it almost feels like you might.

Ghost gives you that same feeling.

His chin dips low, eyes lidded and heavy. You could almost mistake it for bland disinterest had his jaws not been working, gnashing together in a wordless tick. He says nothing. You watch the bones move. The fabric teeth snap.

All his focus is centred on the blood-red gash near your temple. The black sutures keeping the split skin together.

Ghost makes a sound, and you almost mistake it for a growl. Inhumane. Animal. It's pulled from his throat, but bitten off by his teeth before it can take shape.

You blink up at him, wide and owlish, when he reaches for you.

His hand is warm even through the glove. The rough fabric grazes your skin when he brushes your hair away with his knuckle. His eyes are fixed on your forehead, hardened, all militaristic concentration as he looks you over.

"It's—it's fine…"

"It ain't."

Gritty sandpaper. Harsh, abrading.

It's hushed, though.

Speaking above a whisper feels taboo. This whole thing does, honestly. Illicit, wrong. Ghost shouldn't be lasering his glare on your forehead, searching for a reason to do something about the anger that now brims in those dark depths. His knuckles on your skin feel sacrilegious. Touching you is exempt. Illegal. Off-limits.

But he does it, anyway. Strips the barriers pitched in front of you both like tissue paper, and holds his four knuckles to your temple, his thumb brushing a hair beneath the irritated skin. Gentle. Soft.

You didn't think these hands knew how to do something so delicate. That they were made, instead, to break. To crush. To ruin.

He might, yet: the pad of his finger feels like a brand when it ghosts over the soft curve of your forehead, soothing the phantom hurt, and you think you might just shatter if he doesn't stop touching you like this. Gingerly. Calming. A balm over your aching flesh.

You'd gotten so used to the pain, the constant throb in your head, that this respite from it feels like bliss. Nirvana wrapped in leather.

His touch is magnetic. It pulls a sound from deep within your chest, something desperate and wanting, and you can't snap your jaws shut quick enough before it's loose in the atmosphere, and cresting over him.

Ghost's gentle prods go still. With his thumb pressed into a place that makes liquid heat spume in your vein, you can feel it tremble when your tongue snakes out, gliding over your lower lip.

Your head swims. Phosphenes dance across the back of your lids, and you struggle to remember when you shut your eyes in the first place.

They flutter open.

His stare is fixed on your lips in a total eclipse, honed in on the slow roll of your blood-red tongue as it peeks out from the warm cavern of your mouth. The wet trail left behind is swallowed by his gaze. It flickers up, catching the bloom of heat under your cheeks. The darkened flush makes him rumble; the soft rattle of an engine purring. A frisson passes over his expression, lashes fluttering.

He's close. Closer than he was before. You can feel the molten heat bleeding into your skin with his proximity. Taste the gunpowder, the ash, and the ichor that clings to him; he smells of war when you breathe him in. Gasoline. Copper. A livewire scent that makes your lungs itch.

Dangerous. Powerful. Deadly.

Every synapse in your head misfires, sending off warning signs and sirens to run from the man that reeks of gun oil, and fire; napalm-scented demise with blood-soaked hands meant to ruin. But it only makes you lean in closer until the acrid burn of him corrodes your throat.

His body is warm, and the heat is stifling.

You're drunk off the fumes he exudes; reckless and wanting, and in the slurried molasses of your mind, you wonder if this is what it feels like for a gazelle to stand so close to a lion.

Something cold pools at the base of your spine, making you shiver. A warning—distant, ancient—but the calls of your ancestors are dimmed under the bulk of his shadow. The heavy iron in his gaze rests over you, and you imagine that his body pressed into yours would carry the same heft.

He's somehow bigger up close, you think. Wide shoulders, thick arms, a broad chest and waist; muscular thighs, firm calves.

He's not Adonis, but you imagine he feels just like marble all the same.

"Thought we lost you." His voice is a crackle; sap popping as it burns in the fire. The log charring in the kindling. "Thought we— fuck, pet. Thought you were gone, and we couldn't do a damn thing about it."

We. He says we, now. It's new. You shudder in his hold.

"I'm here," you whisper the words, afraid of breaking this strange spell between you. It feels like everything else around you has melted away until only you and he exists on this lonely street that makes you ache.

"You are…" he rasps; a low hush. Maybe he, too, is afraid of shattering it. "You did good, soldier."

His knuckles graze the mark in your temple, gentle around the tight, irritated flesh—it's proof that you lived, that despite the tragedy of the betrayal from the man you counted on the most, you survived. You made it. You won.

His touch is featherlight. But his eyes–

His eyes are heavy with the promise of nothing but ruin.

A million thoughts run through your head, ones that taste like kerosene, and cauterise inside you like a cigarette to your skin. The heat blooms again, but it's not enough—all you can think of is how you wished you had more of him.

(You wonder if you run your tongue along his skin, kiss that acrid mouth, if he'd taste of napalm.)

Chiselled open, exposed to the air. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding the fumes of your burning need in his lungs. When he exhales, you can taste the smoke in the air.

His hand drops, fingers sliding down the curve of your face until he meets the plush softness where your chin and cheek meet. The hand he keeps on you is firm.

His eyes bore into yours. He wants your attention. Demands it. Then, he holds it steady until your mouth drops in a series of short, gasping breaths.

Your voice is featherlight when you say his name. His real one. Simon. It simmers in the air between you, and the scent of it almost makes his eyes snap shut, shoulders coiling. Tensed. Wanting. His muscles flex, bunching together in tight knots. Clench. Release. Clench.

It's only when you hear his haggard breath through the nylon, do you realise he's holding himself back from you.

Your belly flutters at the rumble roiling out of his throat.

Another command falls, deeper, darker, and your spine nearly snaps with how quickly you straighten up when he utters two words.

"Later, pet."

It's a promise. A demand. An out.

His mind made up, decisive and sure, he's now shoving the choice in your hands. Leaving the decision with you for safekeeping.

Like before, there is only ever one choice. As if you had any other answer for him.

When you nod, firm and eager, his chest shudders. "Fuckin' Christ–" it's a snarl, full of tension. Excitement.

His hand slides away from your face, and presses into the base of your spine, settling heavily over the curve of your ass. There is pressure, an urgency.

"C'mon," he rasps, jerking his chin to the end of the park. "Parked over here."

He keeps his hand on you, heavy and hot. A possessive branding as he leads you away from this place.

When you pass, your eyes drop to the pavement.

The gravel is clean. Your blood is nowhere to be found.

Your muscles go lax. You get pulled into his current, shoulder brushing over his chest.

Simon tightens his hold, and pulls you closer.

(Dragging you out to open water until you can't see the shoreline anymore.)

He leads you to a black jeep with tinted windows, and grounds out that it's rental when you press the heel of your palm into your mouth, futilely trying to hide a smile.

"It's nice," you quip, light and airy. "Very you."

"Just get your ass inside already," he says, pulling the door open for you. "Got a drive ahead of us."

His hand settles on your waist when you step up on the first rung, heavy. Firm. You want to lean into him. Have him pressed up against you like this for an eternity.

"Where are we going?" You breathe, shivering from the molten look in his eye. The heat in his chest.

He tugs you back into him, chin grazing the space between your neck and shoulder. His voice is white-hot in your ear. "My safe house."

Your eyes flutter. Heat blooms. "Simon—" his name is a whimper on your lips.

His fingers dig into your hips. "Fuckin' hell, pretty thing. You keep saying my name like that, and we won't make it to Southport."

There is no lie in the words that are forced out of his throat; inhumane, a growl. You don't want him here —in this town where you moulder.

Your fingers trail over his wrist. The coarse hair on his arms tickles your skin.

"Get me out of here."

His eyes sharpen. "Gladly."

Two hours and a half hours from Porthmadog to Southport.

A lot of time for him to reconsider. For that coldness he wears like a shield, that unbreakable distance, to pitch itself in front of him once more, locking you out. Perhaps, it'll be for good. Maybe—

Your hands ball into fists. Knuckles dig into the plush seat.

You know what you want. Know what you've wanted since before you stupidly opened your mouth— keeping my seat warm— and he saw it through.

But what about him? There was no time on the jet for a grand discussion, not when everyone was on top of each other already; not when Soap kept glancing at you, brow drawn tight, as if to ask really, bonnie?

Memories of Sierra Leone have you in a chokehold. Your purgatory, your limbo, your afterlife; when you were dying, it was all of him. Of the desert. Of the town that felt so warm, so inviting. The people baulked at his size but still ushered you over, offering snacks, and treats.

So tiny beside him, a woman laughs. You need to eat more. Your man should make you fat and happy.

You blushed. He's not—

Yes, yes… A wink. A coy grin. He watches from the dirt path as she presses bundled cassava into your hands. He says nothing at all. Your man. You like the sound of it more than you should.

You know what you want. What you've wanted.

It puddles inside of you. Droplets leaking through the fissures that have been splintering for years, now.

A man stands in front of you. Promise me, you'll get him.

You: young, naïve, nodded. I promise.

Ghost pulled you aside. He yells—quite often, in fact—but he's ice cold when he says, we don't make promises, rookie. Deadly. Your heart is in your throat when you apologise.

And then the scent of fire. A mission in Mesaieed left you and Gaz trapped. Helpless. Smoke clogging your lungs. Gaz wheezing under the intense blase; the noxious fumes billowing from the smoulder.

His voice in your ear. We'll get you out of there, rookie. Hang tight.

That a promise? You gasp, gagging from the black cloud drenching your lungs. Close to death, and cracking jokes. Confident. Assured. Nile crocodile lurking below the surface.

He isn't there to see your hands shake. You're thankful for it. Stupid, stupid—you want nothing more to impress your Lieutenant. Match him wit-for-wit. Vile joke for vile joke.

It surprises you when his voice filters through the line, one word slurred into your ear: yes.

Are you a man who keeps his promises?

Always. That's why I never make them. Close to a fiery death, and his voice crackles again. Why wasn't Jesus born in Liverpool?

Gaz coughed. Fuck's sake… Lemme die in peace.

Why, Lt?

There are no wise men or virgins.

Funny. I like that one.

Knew you would. Cover your heads.

The window above shattered. They saved you—just like they said they would.

(You realised then that Ghost cared for you, for all his subordinates, more than he let on.)

And now—

There is no turning back. Later, he said. He promised. A man who keeps his promises.

You think, then, of the look on his face under the streetlamp. Snowfall trickles between you. There was a battle in his head; artillery fire in the gaps of his eyes when he said:

"Thought we—fuck, pet. Thought you were gone, and we couldn't do a damn thing about it."

The words get lodged in his throat. They're ripped out with a harshness that bludgeons through you.

You turn to him, taking in his profile as he leans back in the seat, looking out the windshield.

As if he feels your stare, his eyes cut from the window, and find yours. He holds it until you taste smoke in your throat, until your lip trembles. Then it sinks low to your lap. One hand peels off of the steering wheel.

It feels like an anvil when it rests on your thigh.

"Almost there," it's a strangled rasp. A promise.

You nod. Your smile feels flushed when it pulls on your lips. Sunkissed. Warm. Expectant.

Your hand unfurls, fingers aching from the strain of your grip, and you curl them over his wrist. His pulse thuds under your thumb. You stroke it, and wonder what he would say if he knew yours beat the same.

The safehouse in Southport is not at all what you were expecting.

The winding road he drives on leads to a small, modest cabin on the outskirts of the town. Perched away from the rest of civilisation, it sits on its own island. Cut-off from the mainland.

The distance is something that makes a smile pull on your lips. So fittingly him —your lone wolf leader who only just learned the word we —but the sight of the house makes something gnarl inside of your chest. It's quaint.

Somehow, you'd expected a flat in the heart of the city. London, perhaps. Somewhere close to the airport, to the UK base used when you needed the closest weapons cache or jet.

The little abode in the middle of a farm doesn't mesh with the image you'd drawn of your prickly Lieutenant. It's too—

Wholesome.

"It's temporary," he grouses when he catches your teeth sink into your palm, a wide grin splitting across your face. "I haven't been back here in a long time."

"Is it yours?" You ask, turning to him. The jeep hums, idling. Neither of you makes any move to get out.

His fingers drum on the wheel. "Grew up here."

"I thought you were from East London."

"No. Moved there, then back here." He offers.

You nod. You get it.

"It's nice." You say instead, and it really is. A sprawling farmland with rolling hills in the distance where you know the sun hits in the morning. Where it'll bathe the boscage in ochre. "Peaceful."

"I'd have taken you to London," he grinds the words out from between his molars. "But it's too far."

Too far. Roughly four hours.

You've been sitting for nearly three. You shudder, eyes lidded when you turn to him.

A slow roll of your tongue has his arms flexing, hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles are stained white. Bleached.

"Maybe next time."

A promise. A question.

The vein in his forearm throbs. "C'mon, let's go."

You barely have enough time to pace a few feet into the foyer before it starts. You turn to look at him from over your shoulder—taking in the chimney, the chaise, the distinct lack of anything personal outside of a safe, a lighter on top of the fireplace—and he's suddenly there. Boots off. Hands curled into fists by his side. Head dipped down, and eyes more dangerous than you'd ever seen them.

That thrill pools—a warning. Run, run.

He stalks toward you, eyes burning coal. "Are you hungry?"

"No," you shake your head, swallowing thickly.

A step back. A step forward. They spark when you run.

"Thirsty?"

"N—no…"

Two steps bring him closer to you. Your back presses flush to the wall next to the fireplace, and he moulds over you like a liquid shadow. Dark, imposing. He's massive. You can't see anything but him.

Simon rests his forearm against the wall over your head, bending it at the elbow to bring him closer to you. The rough graze of his mask over your cheek has you panting.

His hand is a brand on your thigh. It slips down, fingers crooking in the fold of your knee, wrenching it up his hip. You gasp, hands grasping the bulk of his biceps when he drags your centre flush over the growing bulge in his pants.

Your head swims when he growls in your ear. "Is there anything you need to do before I drag you to my bed?" You shake your head slightly, pulse humming in your chest. "Because once I'm inside this pretty cunt, nothing at all will get me out. Understood?"

Your brain short circuits. A complete whiteout.

"A—affirmative." You choke, somehow coherent despite the absolute mess in your head. "Sir."

He rumbles. His chest pushes into yours; the sound reverberating through your bones. "Good girl."

He turned his back to you after he let you inside a modest bedroom, pulling the black sweater over his head. His back exposed—rippling muscles, etches of black from the tattoos—all pale skin wrapped in thick sinew. The sound you make has his shoulders coiling tight.

"Fuck, pet… I haven't even touched you, yet."

He turns, the mask slightly lopsided, and his beanie missing. His hair without the full balaclava sends a shock to your system. The newness of discovering something; elation bleeds in. His hair is ashen brown. Lighter than chocolate, darker than caramel.

You want to sink your fingers into the thick of it.

Thighs pressed tight together, your greedy eyes take him in. The way his hair—moussed from the hat—falls over his forehead; not cropped to the grain like Soap, and barely centimetres longer than Price.

He gazes at you. Waiting, maybe.

Your hands fall to your pants, eager to rid yourself of every barrier between your skin and his. You want him on you— in you. It itches like a sickness. Burns like a fever.

Your trousers fall. Fingers looped into the hem of your panties. He stops you, then, with his words.

"I took the mask off for the team."

You falter, bent down to push the panties the rest of the way off, and blink up at him.

The first thought, of course, is that Gaz saw his face before you. Gaz. The rookie rivalry (playful, carrying the flavour of siblings vying for their approval) makes you burn.

You swallow the jealousy on your tongue. "Oh…"

He waits, still.

"You don't have to…" you want to see him. He's a mosaic; an incomplete piece. You have two halves but the middle is murky. You try to fit them in your head, but the image doesn't line up.

"Lay back," he ordered, hands dropping to his belt buckle.

The image of him tugging the leather, veins rippling under the black ink of his burly forearms, feels unholy. It douses you with a want so palpable, your belly quivers with need.

You don't need foreplay, you think. Not when the sight of him pulling off a belt already has you melting. Has your pussy throbbing, your thighs slick.

"Damn, Lieutenant…" you mewl, dropping down on the bed, knees pressed taut together to stem the ache. "How are you so—"

"Simon," he rasps. The belt hangs in his hands. You wonder if he'd tie you up one day with it. Leave you quivering below him, completely at his mercy.

Or, would he let you use it on him? Let you bind this behemoth to the bed for your pleasure.

Your toes curl. The thoughts alone are enough to get you off, you think.

But it's the sight of him, then, standing over you, trousers hanging low on his hips, kept in place only by the thick thigh he slots between your knees, that really makes you shudder.

"Lay back," he orders again, hand dropping—white-hot, rough—to your shaking knee. His chin lowers, eyes staring at your pussy. "I want to taste you again, pet."

Fuck. Fuck —

He lowers to his knees, still somehow taller than you, and gazes at you between your bent legs. Dark eyes flashing. Goosebumps prickle along your flesh as he trails his gaze down the length of your body, settling, once again, on your cunt.

He looks as if he's going to devour you. Eyes wide, whites full, when he pries your legs apart, spreading your cunt for him once more. He hadn't seen you bare like this—beneath him for his own pleasure—and you feel the ghost of his breath on your sex when he leans in close, breathing in deeply.

"Bloody- fuckin' -hell, pet—" it sounds like a curse when he says it. A choked snarl. "So wet for me, and I haven't even touched you."

His hands are on the outside of your thighs, rough skin grazing the sensitive flesh as he trails them down to the soft flesh beneath your knee. With his thumbs hooked in the bend, pressing sharply into the cartilage, he wrenches them apart, opening you wider for him until your pussy is bared to him completely.

The groan he makes edges on the equinox of being absolutely filthy and wrecked when he drinks you in.

"Missed this pretty little cunt." His masked cheek rests on your knee, head cocked as he stares down at you. When he tips his chin, gazing at you, his eyes are blacker than midnight. A pool of ink. Desire brims.

He hooks your thighs over his broad shoulders, finger looping in the gap between his mask and the skin beside his nose.

You don't have a chance to see it. Fucking tease —

He dips his head before he tugs it down, and you feel the molten heat of his tongue slipping between your folds.

Your head falls back on the pillow, toes curling as that greedy mouth devours you once more. The stubble around his chin prickles the skin of your thighs. His grip is so tight, you already see blooms of blue pooling beneath the tips of his fingers.

The first time wasn't a flute. Simon presses his mouth to your cunt like he can't get enough; lips sealing over your throbbing clit, tongue lapping at you in even, thick strokes that make you see white behind your eyelids. It's good, so good —

He's going to ruin you.

"Simon—"

You remember those filthy groans rumbling against your slit, and your hand lifts, reaching down to tangle in his locks. A tug—sharp, pointed—makes him pant into your pussy, makes his fingers tighten until you can feel capillaries bursting under his firm hold. Until his short nails make indents in your flesh.

"Yeah, pet," his voice is molten rock; you throb, aching, from the sound alone. "Just like that…"

His mouth is on you again, devouring you whole.

You lift your head, staring down at the black eyes that bore into you, the thick locks of hair spilling out between your fingers, and you break.

You fall back with a groan, arching your cunt into his eager mouth, desperate for more. More of that liquid bliss that spools in your core, that has you leaking a puddle under his chin.

His hands shift, sliding down the meat of your thighs until they wriggle under your ass. Your flesh spills between his fingers when he grips you tight, lifting your hips, your cunt, to him.

Simon helps you buck against him, lets you cant your hips into his face, nearly smothering him with the sopping heat of your centre. When you're mewling, panting, with your head tossed back, and rapture in a quiver of his name spilling from your lips, he shifts.

His hold changes, and one hand falls back. His lips seal around your aching clit as a finger—long, thick—presses against your entrance. His tongue laves over you when he slowly presses it inside, crooking it to stroke against your fluttering walls.

The choked sob that leaves your throat is a mangled wreck of pleasure, of want.

"More," you mewl, but the plea barely has a chance to pass your lips before he's dragging his finger out until only the tip keeps you open. "Please, sir—"

He thrusts it into the last knuckle, groaning against you at the slick, wet sound that it makes. "Fuck, pet. Always so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Always," you gasp, fingers gripping his hair tight. "Simon, I need more—"

He pulls his finger out; another joins it when you whimper. The stretch feels good. Heat blooms in your belly. You won't last long. Your thighs quiver with each roll of his fingers pushing in as deep as they will go; with each stroke of his tongue over your clit.

You're going to cum—

"Simon—"

The coil snaps, pussy clenching on the thick fingers wedged inside of you, hips canting into his eager mouth as he rides you through the spasming pleasuring that ripples through your abdomen.

"That's it… that's a good girl," he slurs against you.

It's almost too much when he forces another finger into your throbbing cunt. You keen at the stretch, at the too-full feeling of him splitting your walls.

"Simon, I can't—"

"Yes, you can. You're taking me so well already."

His voice is liquid sex; the wrecked sound of him makes your toes curl, and your spine arch. You want him inside of you. You want to know if he'd make those same grunts of pleasure with your pussy wrapped around him.

High of the sudden burst of endorphins, you look down at him—sloppy with your wetness, his face hidden by your cunt—and you tug his hair until he meets your blown-out gaze.

"Fuck me," you try to demand, but the word comes out as a shaky plea.

"Too tight, pet," he rumbles. "Gotta get you ready for me."

Three fingers buried to the last knuckle, and he says it still isn't enough.

You'd think him cocky had you not the pleasure of seeing him hard and aching already. Big, fat cock leaking between the seal of his palm. You shiver, head dropping to the pillow.

It's all you can do but take whatever he gives you—long, thick fingers stretching you out, brushing the gummy walls inside that flutter when his mouth seals over your clit. It feels like an eternity since he pulled you inside the room.

A tug of your hand makes him groan. You meet his stare, pleading. Breathless. It's too much—

And not enough.

"I don't care," you slur, drunk and stupid on the way his hot mouth glues to your cunt. "I wanna feel you inside of me for days, sir—"

"Fuck!"

It's a harsh snarl that makes you whimper. The sound ripped from his chest, and rubbed raw as it was scraped out. His forehead is pressed to your mound, breathing you in once more.

His head lifts.

It's dark in the room. You can't really make out the entirety of his features—the familiar long nose, the cut of his jaw. His lips. It's bathed in black, in shadows, but through the glimmer of the washed-out moon that spills inside, you can see the distinct wetness gleaming on his mouth, his chin.

You whimper, eyes burning with tears of desperation. When he speaks, it's shredded rocks. Gravel. Low and dark.

"You're gonna feel me for weeks, pet."

It's a dangerous precipice. His voice alone shatters your resolve, and seeing those full, pink lips form the words that will ruin you, it's overwhelming. Your cunt throbs, walls shuddering in pleasure ripped through your being.

He feels it against his fingers; it makes his eyes flutter. His tongue sweeps out. Eye hooded, half-mast as they take you in.

He sits back, hands slipping to the crease of your knees. His chin dips.

"Hold 'em open for me, pet."

You gasp, belly knotting tight from the command that drips from his drenched, wicked, mouth. Your hand reluctantly falls from the soft locks to do as you're told. The warmth of his skin brushes over your fingers when you take his place, keeping your legs bent, spread, for him. You're on display. Open, wanting.

His hand, now free, reaches for the bundle of fabric pooled at the base of his neck. The mask is fixed into place again—a needless action, you think, pouting. Gaz saw his face in better lighting.

(You hope he had the wherewithal to take a picture for you.)

But there is something to be said about how illicit he looks, mouth now concealed from your view until just his eyes are visible. The coal is rubbed off, shadows along the crease, the corner of his nose, under his eyes, but it feels dangerous like this.

With the mask on, he's Ghost. Deadly. Dangerous. Fearsome. Men cower from him. His name alone scorches the earth, and makes the underbelly tremble.

And he's going to be inside of you. Claiming you, taking you. It's a cigarette thrown on a sea of gasoline. Your skin, fervid, begins to blister.

When you look up, it's ink-blot eyes in a sea of white. Red tendrils in the corners; rivers of ichor.

If he keeps looking at you like that, like you're a feast for him, you might go a little crazy, a little delirious.

Simon stares for a moment longer, hand dipping below the bed to grasp himself in his hand. A grunt at the touch, a flutter of his lashes, and then he moves. Coiled muscle; rippling flesh. He looms above you like a Cimmerian god—drenched in tenebrose, mask soaked from your slick—his haunting eyes gazing at you like you're an offering meant to be savoured.

His thighs—thicker than the tree trunks in the distance—slot beneath yours, and the sheer width of them makes you dizzy. The bulk is bigger than your head. Simon must notice the way you're drooling over them, knuckles white as you stare, open and hungry, wanting, as he takes a small amount of mercy on you. He shifts until the bulk of it is pressed taut to your core.

Your back arches, legs trembling. Fuck—

You want to ride his thighs. Want him to perch you on his massive lap, and have those molten eyes fixed on you as you use him to get yourself off.

You could do it, you think, mind blanking out; that soporific pleasure slurring all logic from taking root until a gossamer spools inside, filled with want. With greed.

"Wanna ride you…" you slur, wrecked on the notion alone. "Your thighs. They're so big, Simon, fuck— you're so big—"

"I like that idea, pet," he rasps, thigh notching closer to your throbbing cunt, smearing slick all over the coarse hair that covers his flesh. "Wanna see you desperate for it."

"I am…" you whine, breathless. "I want you so bad, I can't stand it…"

His hands fall, bracketing his burly arms beside your head until the absurd heft of him fills your vision. The muscles in his core pull taut; veins in his arms pulse.

He told you to keep your legs spread, but your fingers itch with the need to touch him. To feel him against your palm.

His cock hangs, daunting and thick, between his legs, head brushing your belly. Prespend smears over your skin; warm, tacky. You want a taste—

When you tell him as much, chin tipped backwards to whisper the words into his neck, he shudders above you. His cock twitches, spits more prespend on you. You want him to cum on your face, you gasp, words liquid, slurred. You're not entirely sure they're in English. You don't think you have the capacity to think beyond want, want, want—

"Yeah?" He rasps, elbow bending as he drops to his forearm. It brings his chest flush to yours. The dark smattering of hair rubs against your nipples. His face is a constellation: white jowls, black eyes. The look alone makes you smoulder. "Don't worry about me, pet."

You're shaking your head, but the protests die on your tongue when his hips slip between your thighs, prying you further apart. Completely spread beneath the bulk of his body, you crumble.

He knocks your hands away, a low murmur of his approval slipping past those sinful lips for listening to him, as if there was ever a choice, and he notches your knees against his hips, pressing himself closer to your core.

Finally free, your hands spring down to grab him, gripping his bicep in a vice just to feel the way it jumps under your fingers, and the other flat against his heated chest. His pulse thunders against your palm.

"Gonna give it to you, now."

You wanted it— ached for it—but as he feeds his thick cock into your pussy, you wonder if maybe you'd been a little overconfident before. That, perhaps, he was right.

It's swallowed down, smothered with a whimper. His stupidly fat cock will not break you.

"That's it, pet," he slurs, mask pressed tight to your ear. "Take it… C'mon, now."

He pulls back, widening your thighs, and then pushing them up until you're nearly folding in half beneath him. The movement jostles his cock, and it nudges something inside of you that makes you spasm around him.

"Fuckin' hell…" he groans, sinking in deeper. His eyes are fixed on the spot where he stretches you taut. Skin raw; cunt pushed to the mettle. "Almost there… look'it your pretty cunt take my cock…"

The air is punched from your lungs when he pushes in deeper, when the blunt head batters up behind your belly button. He knocks against your cervix, and the deep ache has tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

"Go on, pretty thing," he husks in your ear, words drenched in pleasure. Your fingers dig into the bulk of his body, crescent moons embedded into his skin.

He bludgeons into something inside of you that has you see stars—galaxies burst behind your eyelids, and heat, supernova hot, burns low in your belly. It burns at the place where his cocks ruts into you so deeply that you can feel him in your sternum, almost taste him in your throat. It liquefies your body. You melt into a conduit under him; a receptacle that leaches pleasure from the stretch of his cock inside you.

Your body slackens. There is a give; something breaks. And he's suddenly deeper than you knew existed, than you ever thought possible. You feel him almost knocking against the cap of your womb. Each persistent jerk has your pussy clenching around him, milking him, trying to get him deeper.

As if that was possible. As if there was any room left inside of you for him to claim.

You're stuffed to the brim; overflowing with him. You can't take anymore.

You sob brokenly when his hips pull back until only the mushroom head of his cock splits your aching, raw cunt open. The seam of you flutters around him, as if begging to be filled again.

He grunts, a hoarse, low noise dredged from the depths of his chest when he shifts, his cock spearing back into you.

It nearly makes you scream. Your nails rake over his flesh, desperate to find purchase amid a crumbly chossy that threatens to send you plummeting down a precipice, hurtling you toward an unknown abyss.

"Easy, now," he commands, the bark of his voice bitten between clenched teeth. "You're gonna make me cum before I've gotten my fill of this cunt, pet."

"Want it," you slur, babbling on the liquid bliss roaring through your veins. "Want you to fill me up, Simon."

A snarl of your name is the only warning you get before his cock is battering against your gummy walls, blunt head jarring into that little place inside of you that has phosphenes filling your vision, has your lungs aching with hypoxia. Head dizzy, chest shuddering with each breath. You can't get enough of it. Of the heady scent of him, the sun-drenched heat.

Simon is normally so controlled, constrained, and you find yourself fracturing into pieces as his ironclad resolve seems to shatter with each squeeze of your cunt. It's a dizzying feeling to reduce your cold-hearted Lieutenant into a rutting beast, spoiling himself with each tight clench of your soft insides against his thick, hard cock.

Your eyes open, wet lashes flutter and stick to the crease of your eyelid, and you find the way his brow is pinched tight together as he burrows himself deep within you, until the taste of salt is heavy on your tongue, absolutely breathtaking. It's enough to get you hooked. Enough to make such an utter mess of you, that you don't know how you'll recover from this.

It's an intense feeling having him seated so deeply within you. Edging deliriously along that equinox of unfathomable bliss, and the sharp, distinct too much—too full quiver of pain. It's a pinch within your guts, a deep throb that follows the unending plume of pleasure so blistering as it batters into you, that you almost find yourself getting swept away by the sheer thrill of it all. Mindless, driven stupid by the way he takes, the way he ruins.

(You don't ever want him to stop.)

It's one thing to have his mouth on you, but another thing entirely to see how he breaks when he's inside of you. It's addicting. A powerful high that renders everything else static.

Pleasure, red-hot and dizzily intense, lacerates through your core, spooling at the base of your spine. It fills your limbs with molten bliss until nothing remains except the way he pounds inside of you, filling you over and over again with every inch he has to offer. You think you might just go insane if you don't have him. If you don't get to feel the delicious drag of his cockhead rubbing against your pulsating walls.

Your hands slide over his skin. The muscles clenching under the pads of your fingers as you drag them up, over his arm, his biceps, his broad shoulders.

The bulk of his back makes your fingers itch. You sink them into the corded muscles, clinging to him as Simon drags you to that hazy place where euphoria clots inside of your veins, and the heat you syphoned from him bubbles, frothing over.

It's pulled taut—an elastic band that stretches well past the breaking point, and makes your fingers sting when it snaps. You convulse beneath him, sobbing out barely coherent words that sound like a quivering war cry of his name, of how good he feels, and how you're mad with the taste of him nestled so deeply within you.

Your nails digging into his skin, his name on your lips like a gospel, the molten clench of you around—it all congeals together until he's snarling in your ear, a raspy grunt that makes your toes curl, that has you seeing nirvana once more. It's your name—somewhere in the mess of his growl, his groan—that is pulled out from him, and pierces you deep, makes your core tremble at the ragged sound of it, broken and hoarse.

He throbs like a heartbeat, cock pulsing as he sputters out a thick pool of cum. It's almost too much; your pussy is overstuffed, forced to take both the heaviness of his cock, and molten spume that fills you to the brim. It leaks out from around the plug of him, pushed to the base until not even an inch remains, and you feel it gathering under you.

You want a taste of it. It swells inside, fills you deep, and you wonder if he'd let you lick it off of him.

You murmur it into his drenched chest, more slurred words that only vaguely sound English. Maybe it's the tone of your voice—ruined and raw, and drunk of the taste of him—that punctures through, but it hits the mark. Simon buries his head into your neck with another gravelled rasp of your name that sticks to his throat, breaking over the vowels. His softening cock twitches within you.

Words, or sentiment, whispered into the crackling atmosphere that smells of sex and kerosene, and goes straight to his groin.

"Cheeky little—," he starts, a husking grumble, but you squeeze your sore, aching sex around him, fluttering like a soft heartbeat, and it dies with a groan.

The victory doesn't last long. Your raw, abused cunt aches from overstimulation, a throbbing sting from your tender flesh making you wince. You're too keyed up. A ragdoll against the shoreline, caught in the current that batters your body until you feel like one massive contusion.

Fucking Simon feels like surviving a war. It feels like clawing your way out of the trenches, tasting the heavy, gunmetal tang of acrid artillery fire in the air, and standing victorious. Brutalised, dazed, and numb from the beating, but full of the banquet of victory.

He keeps you under him, still buried to the hilt, and pants into your neck. Flushed with exertion, his chest red and drenched in sweat, you slip your hands through the mess of him, and find purchase where the knob of his spine protrudes from his flesh.

Simon's head rises. His eyes—quivering, glossy ink—lidded and sleepy with pleasure, and that tangible post-sex haze that permeates the air, find yours.

Sweat drips down his forehead, over his brow, his temple. It's swallowed by the fabric of his mask, lopsided on his cheeks. Red peaks over the black horizon. A deep flush the same bloodied hue as his chest.

(You wonder if it tastes like ichor.)

His eyes shudder, body trembling from the ripple of it.

"Fuck me, pet…"

You tip your heavy, mushy head back, and grin. Big, and wide. The smile of elation. Of success. "I already did."

He huffs, heavy and full, through his nose. "Bloody hell—" in response to your tease, he grinds his cock against your aching walls.

Your breath is sucked in through clenched teeth; a breathy, high-pitched whimper.

"Mae hi wedi cachi arna i…"

"English, pet."

Your ankles try to link at the base of his spine, body drawn like a bow. "Your cock ruined me."

His eyes are rapacious, tainted with the fervour of conquest.

"It was meant to." The smoke in his timbre makes your toes curl. Your lungs smoulder with the heat of it.

Simon has you seeing nirvana again, and again before the light outside crests through the thin curtains.

He rolls you under him, ankles hooked on his shoulders, and makes you watch as his cock spears deep inside of your well-fucked cunt.

Eyes on us, soldier. Don't you dare look away.

On your knees, head nearly smothered by the pillow, he covers you with the entirety of his bulk until everything around you is pitch black with the shadow he casts. He looms over you, chest pressed against your back, and fucks you slow, and deep. The position almost has you blacking out from the depths he reaches like this, and the burn of the stretch as your pussy pulls taut against his cock.

You can take it. This pretty cunt was made for my cock, pet.

Your favourite is being lowered onto him. Chests pressed together. You bury your hand in his damp hair, your face in his neck, and sink your teeth into the column of his throat until the salt of his skin nearly drowns you.

Fuckin' hell…

(In response, his hand brands the cheeks of your ass with the perfect impression of his massive palms.)

He lays back with you barely lucid, aching, sprawled on top of him, and runs his hands down your spine, husking in your ear about how good you've been for him, how pretty you look blissed out from his cock.

His words are mercury in your head.

"...wanna be good for you, Simon," you murmur into his collarbones.

He shudders under you.

His chest is slick with sweat when you rest your head on it, pulse thudding under your palm. His arm around your waist is an anchor, locking you tight to his side.

You'd woken up to the sun bleeding through the window, the room thick with the balmy swelter of sex. Ashes in your throat, salt on your tongue. Simon's heat burrows into your marrow.

There is a lot to be said, you think. Words that you were too cowardly to admit when in the soft, dazed atmosphere of the plane.

Only one thing buoys to the forefront. The only things you'd been clutching at this whole time. Life on the line, and all you could think of was the dunes outside of your tent. The searing heat on your back.

(Not on me.)

(Always, always.)

"...Since Sierra Leone," you confess into his flesh, mouth pressed against the side of his pectoral. His ashen chest hair tickles your nose.

Simon tenses under you. The soft strokes of his fingers–bare, warm–on your hip still.

You wonder if you misread things. If you made a mistake. Your mouth parts on his flesh. The briny taste of his skin is sharp on your tongue.

You won't apologise. The words are there, the confession lingering in the air like opaque tendrils of smoke. It's in his hands now. This little thing that flutters within your chest, tucked away for safekeeping since he turned to you, eyes dark and narrow, and said you did good, rookie.

His fingers coil over you, tightening against your flesh.

"Everything…" he rasps. Everything. It's pulled out of him; rolled over barbed wire.

Confused, you raise your head, brows knitting together. Everything—

A total eclipse. The ocean in the dead of night. Endless, unfathomable pools of black. The current threatens to drag you under to those depths that shudder in front of you.

The words die on your tongue, ashes in the back of your throat.

What good is a man if he has nothing to lose? So, what do you have to lose, soldier?

A smile splits across your face; a sun dawning over the beige spalls that seem to never end.

It tastes of the sea when you press your lips to his. You feel sand under your fingers, his pulse on your palm.

—Price calls it, has known since Mesaieed. He'd bet on Gaz, maybe even Soap. It never crosses his mind to think of Simon.

—But thinking about it now, it was obvious from the start.

("Sierra Leone. Wanna take Gaz with you–"

"No. I'll take the rookie.")

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon riley #Simon Ghost Riley #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod mw2 spoilers #cod spoilers #simon riley cod

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atzfilm · 7 months

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [2] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); wooyoung x reader, yunho x reader; 11.4k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore

Desire is such a futile thing. Grasping at a fleeting fit of passion that will be over in just a few breaths. Yearning for a moment ever so brief, it was like it never even began. It only continues to ponder you as you stare at the book of forgotten history, tucked between an old Jane Eyre and newly found poetry. It's an odd place, but Soobin himself is odd. He thought that it would allow someone to find a new interest – resting unlike books next to one another. You yourself didn't even know the book existed until you stumbled upon it. Your fingers glide along the pages, many dog-eared. A part of you hopes that whenever Soobin comes back he could tell you why he noted these particular pages. If he ever does, that is. The lump in your throat continues. You flip a page with hopes to distract yourself.

The multitude of Fae folk is still unknown. Ranging from the dozens to hundreds, not one researcher agrees on how many exactly exist, or if they truly exist at all. But what we all know is that it begins with disappearances.

Until a town is drained dry.

You close the book, the familiar chill creeping up again. The store is closed now and you've checked twice to make sure it's empty. There is no real reason why you feel fear. But you're not one to ignore it. You tuck the book away, locking up the front gates to the store and exiting promptly, the apartment above the store left abandoned.

It has been over a month now since Soobin has disappeared. You've been interviewed by the local sheriff's department for your involvement and your plea for innocence was believed. No one could say nor prove it was your fault that Soobin suddenly vanished. Nothing tied you to it. Even the townsfolk, as bitter as they may be that you weren't the one to leave, told the police that you were at various stores in town when he was no longer around. You could only thank them. Perhaps your reputation isn't as heinous as you once thought.

Contacting his family was your biggest fear. His parents told you that Soobin called at the time, explaining he needed time away then never called again. They aren't as worried as you, apologizing for the way he broke up with you. Neither of you understand why he just left. It's not like him. He fights tooth and nail and never just leaves. Foul play has been ruled out but you just can't wrap your head around it. The two of you loved one another. Giving up that easily… Do you even know the real Choi Soobin?

Have you ever?

"Haven't I told you not to walk home alone?"

Seonghwa appears next to you as he always does. Hands tucked in his sleek trench coat, the same friendly smile on his lips. His strange appearance is nothing new. A few times a week he seemingly conjures up on empty streets and sidewalks to walk you home. Only another check on your list of him not being human. He never threatened you nor persuaded you with anything nefarious as of yet, but his presence still brought fear. One day the visits wouldn't be so meaningless. One day he won't be as kind.

"There's no one ever around for me to be scared, Hwa," you say. "Unless you want me to be afraid of you."

"You should be mindful. Not everyone is as they seem. You should know from experience."

Whether or not his words are a purposeful jab is frivolous, but they do sting. "Feels like a warning for me to stay away from you, Seonghwa."

He doesn't stop walking, his voice is softer this time. "I didn't mean it that way. You know that."

You do. Since you've met the mysterious man all he's done is stand up for you. Irritate the locals with his snarky remarks, enough so that many began to leave you alone. Sure, the lack of customers is quite severe at this moment, it was better than having to force a smile on your lips as they mentioned how Soobin ran the store better than you ever have. There's only so many strained smiles you could muster.

But trusting Seonghwa? The creature of the night who you are ninety-five percent sure is a Faerie? An Unseelie one at that? You can only hold back your scoff. What you have found about them is helpful. One of which you haven't tested yet – whether or not they could lie. Now is a prime opportunity. You glance at the man walking next to you, before speaking. Low ball questions first, before you can gradually ask the important ones.

"Do you think I'm doing well?" You ask.

His brow raises. "Change of subject?"

"A bit, but not really. I just… it's been a lot, being on my own now. I was self-sufficient before I met him and still am, but things are different. I wanted this dream with him. I wanted to struggle with him. Sometimes I wonder if all of this is worth it. If I should even wait for him."

"You are doing well," he murmurs. "As well as a human can under these circumstances."

Your chest begins to tighten at his words. The thought of proving yourself right is gone. The sincerity of his goes in one ear and out the other. Only one word you can focus on. One sticking out in the sentence, bile gathering at the back of your throat.

Human.

No one you've met in your entire life speaks of people that way. You struggle to hold your poker face. Pretend that nothing is wrong. You take a slow breath. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. Ah, I must go now though, my family will be wondering where I am by now," he glances at his watch, before shooting you a small smile. "I will see you soon, y/n. Have a good rest."

He turns on his heels before you can say more, disappearing into the night. You hold your bag closer to yourself, steps quickening. You have little option left. You can't leave the town no matter how much you want to – that'll mean leaving the bookstore behind. A sound minded person would forget about it and just leave but you can't. Despite how disappointed you are for Soobin leaving you alone, you can't leave the store. It's silly, but you still care about him. It'll hurt you to see the store fall apart. You just hope he'll come back soon.

Maybe then he'll be able to tell you if you're being delusional or not.

"She knows." Seonghwa enters his home, frustration coating his features. "I fucked it up and now she knows."

"Told you~" Wooyoung's falsetto tone rings through the corridors. "I should have gone to her instead."

The glare Seonghwa sends him is enough for Wooyoung to drop his grin, exiting the room. Jongho and Yunho are the only other two in the room, both focused on reading. They're underdressed for this time of night; Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong planned another visit to the human world for food. And it's their turn to join them, though they look too involved in their own separate readings to even change out of their sleepwear. Yunho looks up from the writings.

"On a scale from Hongjoong tripping on a rock to Mingi setting fire to a village, how bad?"

Seonghwa sighs. "I said humans in front of her."

Jongho winces, "No coming back from that. What did you do after?"

"I panicked and left. Her heart rate picked up and her perspiration began coating her forehead. I thought I would be able to last longer–"

"She is quite intelligent. It wouldn't have taken her longer than another week to put the pieces together. You just sped up the process," Yunho murmurs. "But the question still remains: How do we explain this to everyone else?"

"We don't," Jongho closes his book softly, glancing between them. "Wooyoung is very likely running around our home right now telling every living soul what happened. We'll just have to deal with the repercussions. She knows now, which means that she will avoid you Seonghwa. And will very likely be wary of any new people hovering around her. It won't be as easy this time to convince her to come here."

"We keep her here then?" Yunho suggests.

"No…" Seonghwa stops pacing, thinking. "She trusts me. At least more than the rest of us. I can convince her to come here willingly."

"Can you?"

Seonghwa frowns. He's not too sure. He's broken it at this point. Struggling to mend it back together will just take too long. You'll slip right through their fingers. So despite how much he does not want to consider this choice, it's all he has. Perhaps the incessant little voice in the back of his head is correct.

"Wooyoung may be able to. I know we've avoided his particular methods, but there's little left to be done. The rest of us aren't as friendly as him, aside from Yunho. And you often avoid humans entirely because of your attachment issues."

Yunho frowns, "Thanks for pointing that out."

"Your decision has come too late," Another voice interrupts them, their gaze moving to the door. San leans on the threshold, cross arms against his chest. "The little turnip has already left our home. It's only a matter of time that he stumbles upon her path."

Their combined groans echo around the room.

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the stone fence, leg swinging. He can recall Seonghwa saying that he saw you meander by this path often, but it’s been several days now and Wooyoung himself hasn’t seen you once. Perhaps it was a different path? His fingers run along the stone, humming. Moss covers the gray now, the elements turning it into a darkened, brown color. He whispers into his fingers, pressing them back to the stone. His gaze softens when he sees the color slowly coming back.

“Humans,” he murmurs, scowling. A sweet smell fills his nose. He looks up from the rock, licking his lips. You stand at the end of the path, frozen in your spot. Your hands grip the straps of your bag. Eyes widened in fear. His match yours, but instead in glee, hopping off his spot. You don’t move – even as he slides down the hill, stopping just in front of you.

His hair is long and wavy, framing his cheeks. Kind eyes that seem to be without malice. But you’re not too sure of that. Faeries have a way of concealing their true intentions without much effort. He pushes strands away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. His wear is unusual – mossy green transparent attire adorning his slim frame, barefoot, though no sign of torn skin from the rough ground. You wrinkle your nose. Dwelling on odd observations won't pull you out of this situation.

“y/n. Seonghwa never told me you were easy on the eyes. It’ll be sadder for me to dance with you now,” he frowns, gaze flicking over your face. Dance?

He leans forward. “Your aura is bright. You remind me of a sunset.”

You try and pretend the familiar name does not phase you. It's difficult – you've suspected endlessly that Seonghwa is a faerie and his words are merely confirmation. So maybe this is a friend of his, or family? Either way it doesn't matter to you. Sticking around is the last thing you want.

“I have to be somewhere,” you say through tight lips. He shrugs, taking another step toward you. Panic settles in your chest. No one is around, no one would stop him even if they were. You're all alone in this. “Sir, pardon me–”

“Oh!” He grins, laughing. “Sir? Do not tease me, human. My name is Wooyoung. Ah wait, look at this my lux solaris.” He turns his hand over, palm facing you. You look away from it, a sigh echoing around you. “I won’t kill you, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t hurt me.” A quick thought crosses your mind: where’s Soobin when you need him? Just as the silly thought appears it's gone. Nowhere. Nowhere around here for all you know. You hate how your mind next moves to the kind Seonghwa. Would he do anything? Or will he only allow this to happen? And why are you depending so much on a man – no, faerie.

He purses his lips, “You know the way of the fae. Fine, I won’t hurt you or ensnare you or kill you in any way right now. Now look,” he nudges you slightly. You finally move your eyes down to his hand. Using his other hand, he drags his pointer finger across his palm. A bright yellow path follows it, disappearing off the edge of his palm. His eyes flick to yours, grin widening.

“It is solaris, like you.” he closes his fist, “I’ve practiced that trick for hundreds of years now, you know. It’s hard for humans to see the Will o’ the Wisp without falling prey. So you must be quite special."

You back away from him, "It was a trick?"

"No, because I can't lie as you know," he rolls his eyes. "I just knew you wouldn't fall underneath the spell because we have tried it already on you, silly."

…

"Excuse me?"

"You are resistant to our will, solaris. And none of us quite know why. I'm here to pretend to woo you and guide you back to our home to do testing. By any means necessary. And if my surly words don't work, I'll do it by force."

Everything he says confuses you more and more. "Why would you tell me you're to lure me?"

His smile slips. "What would you rather me do, lie? You know yourself that Unseelie cannot lie. So why shall I tread around the truth?"

"Will Seonghwa be there?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course. He needs to be there so he can see that my method works much better than he has ever done or ever will."

"... Is there any way for me to get out of this?"

He pouts, shaking his head. "Of course not."

Debating on running would be also silly then. He lets you ponder, folded hands resting behind him as he paces. You look back at the path. Just as you're about to turn, Wooyoung appears by your side. His sudden presence makes you stumble, falling back to the sidewalk. He sighs, watching as you gather your things and stand again.

"Running would be useless. I can just make you come with me solaris. But I want to make this easy."

"Kidnapping someone is never easy," you murmur between tight lips. Why did you ever decide to enter this town? It seems like every signal mythical creature around is appearing. It wouldn't shock you if Soobin suddenly appeared, explaining his disappearance is due to him being a merman. The thought makes you snort.

Wooyoung grins. "Now you understand! Let's go!" He touches your elbow lightly, and before you can shove him off, an uneasy feeling settles over you. It grips your skin, painfully pulling against the surface before your surroundings change. You can barely breathe, falling to the grass beneath you. The sidewalk from before is gone, replaced with thickened underbrush and endless woods. You swallow, mouth dry.

"Hm," he bends down, eyes roaming over you once. "Perhaps Hongjoong was right when he told me humans couldn't demanifest."

"You're sick," you manage to speak, coughing. Your body slowly begins to feel like your own, trembles cascading through you. Wooyoung does nothing to help, looking you over as you finally bring yourself back to the reality in front of you. It's difficult to stand but you manage. Your bag is gone, probably somewhere between the split of reality he just dragged you through. "Never do that again."

"I won't. Demanifestation seemed to have done a number on you and I apologize for that. But it appears that a part of you was left behind."

You immediately touch your body. Your clothes are intact, fingers touching your hair. You look at him in confusion, his wicked smile stretching across his cheeks. The breath that comes out feels louder than before.

"You tricked me."

"No," his brows furrow. "Your bag. It's still back on the sidewalk. But your town is … well, I'm sure it will remain in the same place."

There's no reason to reply, steadying yourself. You look around, the forest too dense for you to see any opening. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with the faerie. He knows it as well.

"We're done after this?"

He doesn't say a word.

—

“Our home is quite simple since we live in the middle of the Rowan trees. We have to make sure it’s hidden enough from both humans and other faeries,” he explains. You notice how light his steps are, as if he is floating over bricks, barely making an imprint in the dirt. Unlike yourself – stumbling ungracefully over rocks and forestry, trying your best to stabilize yourself. Wooyoung doesn’t point out your lack of coordination, still speaking about the grandeur of a house that’s … the opposite? You're not too sure on the nuances.

“There’s no need to worry,” he says after a moment, stopping just in front of you. "I'm not bringing you to your death."

"You vaporized me and transported me to the middle of a forest, and shortly after told me you didn't realize it would bother me. So I'm sorry if I don't exactly trust anything you say to me."

"It's true," he whines. You stare at him strangely. He has to be much older than you – Unseelie live to unfathomable ages from what you've read. They're conniving and humorous to capture you but after, ruthless and unforgiving. Now that Wooyoung has you, you can't see why he's still acting so silly. Humorous even. You might even enjoy his company if you weren't in the situation you are right now.

"Okay," you murmur.

He holds out his hand. Fear curls in you as you take his. His skin is warm, fingers entwining in yours with ease. He stares ahead, humming. "Humans can't see our home since we're quite close to neighborhoods. Hold onto me until we pass the threshold, alright? And don't let go until I tell you. It'll feel as if your body is being torn apart if you don't pass through properly. Do you understand?" There isn't any teasing like before, eyes focused. You nod, and he matches you. With his free hand, he holds it out.

The air seems to shimmer and bend beneath his fingertips, twisting reality. Just as quick as he does it, your surroundings change. What was once endless forest is now a large structure in the middle of overgrown trees. The home looks pristine despite its surroundings, vines covering and growing into the brickface. It looks to be three floors, a wrap around porch, all of the windows and doors ajar. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief. His fingers begin to slip from yours. Your own grip tightens and he furrows his brows, confused.

“Hm?” His lips part, recognition. “Ah, I’ve pulled you through the fabric of reality already, solaris. You can let go whenever you like. Though I don’t mind continuing to hold you.”

You let go, his laugh echoing through the forest. Without pause he walks toward the home, not bothering to turn and see if you’d follow. You do, of course. There’s no reason for you to try and run away now, you’re deep enough in the woods that you’d lose your sense of direction and end up lost. The smell of something sweet glides through the low breeze. Cinnamon-like. Wooyoung enters through the front doors, glancing around before turning down a hallway.

“No one’s around,” he murmurs, glancing back at you. “Seonghwa should be here soon though, he’s not out with the others.”

You pass by an open kitchen. Everything is neat and tidy, table set with lavish flatware and utensils. As you squint, you’re sure it’s made out of some type of gemstone. He continues down the hall.

“He’ll be going to his library first, so we should wait there.”

You stick closer to him now, carefully maneuvering so that your shoes don’t stumble over loose vines moving in and out of the hardwood. The doors down this hallway are closed, locks hanging from the knobs. You don’t say a word but he seems to notice your expression, grinning.

“Unseelie are quite forgetful when it comes to locks. We’ve locked ourselves out enough from places around here that we thought it best to just leave the keys in the knob.”

“None of you are afraid of an intruder?”

He chuckles, “No one would dare enter without our permission, solaris. That’s just a death wish.”

He opens the doors at the end of the hall, beckoning you inside and closing the door behind the two of you. The room is enormous, stories high shelving, endless literature surrounding you. Some titles you recognize from your own bookstore, others unfamiliar. There’s a lot in languages you cannot begin to understand or recognize. It seems endless as your eyes roam. Your stomach twists. Soobin would have loved to see this for himself.

“Ah, he must have cleaned up,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Wonder if he saw the mess Jongho left.”

You walk around slowly, careful not to disturb anything. “How many of you live here?”

“Why? Want a room?” Wooyoung sits on the edge of a table, legs swinging. “I don’t mind it.”

“Just want to know what I’m dealing with,” you frown.

“Hm,” he stretches his fingers, counting beneath his breath, “One, two… Eight. Including me.”

Eight Unseelies. And that's just the amount that live near your home. You can only imagine how many roam the streets, disguised as humans. Dwelling among you. You called the townspeople silly for believing in such superstitions. Now they would just laugh in your face if they knew the truth.

"The people missing…?" You trail off.

Wooyoung doesn't respond to your inquiry. He's moved towards a desk, flipping through the pages in silence. You almost repeat it until he turns to you, eyes flicking between yours.

"We simply ask for a dance. It's their decision on whether they'd like to take our hand. You are your own maker. It's more fun that way.”

A chill passes over you.

He balances a flask between his fingers, humming an unfamiliar tune. Allowing him to drag you through the forbidden Rowan trees into their home is not exactly what you planned, but is there any other choice? Figuring out what he is, what they are, is another point added to your list. There’s just no plan after it. So what if they’re Unseelie? The townsfolk would rather sacrifice you than their own family members. And you can’t blame them. They’ve already blamed the disappearances on you. This will only be something else added to their endless list of hating you.

"You scare me."

Wooyoung looks at you, eyes seemingly somewhere else entirely. "A wise choice."

The door slides open, familiar hands gripping the panel before sliding it back. His eyes slide over to Wooyoung, before looking at you. He lets out the loudest sound you’ve heard from him, groans bouncing against the walls. It’s a bit surprising to see him in such fancy wear, close to what he wore when you first met. His fingers gently rub his temples, obscenities mumbled under his breath.

“You’re just getting worse by every moment,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “If I were Hongjoong you would have been thrown to the Seelie by now.”

“You wouldn’t!” Wooyoung gasps. It’s very much exaggerated, eyes wide. The moment that just passed between the two of you long gone.

“I would. Fortunate for you that I cannot,” he barely glances at you. “You’d follow a stranger into the woods? Have you not listened to any of the words I’ve said?” His tone is harsher than before, formerly kind eyes filled with mire. It was quite silly of you to think that for a second he actually did enjoy your presence. Unseelie are the way they are. He is no different than the rest.

“I had no choice, he threatened the town.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “Of course he did. Why do you even care for a town that doesn’t care for you?”

“Why am I even here?” you say. Seonghwa does not bother to reply to you, fingers gracing one of the leather bound books. He walks past the two of you, lounging in the chair in the farthest corner.

“Hello?”

“Seonghwa wants to experiment on you,” Wooyoung shrugs. “Each attempt that he’s tried to use his abilities on you has faltered. It’s like you’re immune to it. That’s why he’s been spending so much time with you, learning the way you work, your habits and schedules. To see if there’s some explanation for your resistance. Unfortunately he hasn’t found a lead yet. So, I decided to bring you here to see if any of the others can penetrate that strong will of yours, and for him to continue to conduct his research.”

"You're joking."

Wooyoung shakes his head. "Not in the slightest."

You grab your bag, ignoring the pleading eyes Wooyoung attempts to send you. He steps in your way and you only slide beneath his outstretched arms, leaving the room all together. Wooyoung turns around to catch Seonghwa's gaze, pout burned into his lips. Said man still doesn't look up from his book. Of course, Wooyoung could have stopped you if he truly wanted to. An Unseelie versus a human is an easy match. But his mate likes the theatrics of it all, so Seonghwa sinks further into his seat, frames resting on the tip of his nose. It's for show – none of the Unseelie have bad eyesight.

Wooyoung slumps over, knees hitting the mossy floors. "Hyung, please," he whines.

"Typical Wooyoung. Only respecting me when he needs something," Seonghwa murmurs, flipping a page. "Go after her, I'm not your babysitter. Preferably sooner rather than later, unless you want Jongho or Mingi to stumble across a human in our home."

"You're supposed to help me."

"Your mess, not mine," he points out. "Why do you expect me to clean it up? Do it yourself."

"What will you do if they think she's food?"

Seonghwa shrugs. “They know who she is already.”

"Your experiment!"

Seonghwa pauses in his reading for a moment, looking up. He does want to see what exactly is different about you. A clan member taking your life before it happens isn't what he wants. But he's grown tired of fixing things that aren't his problem. Especially one as monumental as this. He gets up, pushing past his grinning mate and exiting the room. It isn't hard to trace your tracks, your heartbeat louder than anyone else's in this home. He just hopes that he gets to you first.

—

Walking through the home is easy and straightforward. You don't bother glancing to the side, previously closed doors ajar casting fear in your heart. Wooyoung so easily lets his words flow, telling you that Seonghwa planned on experimenting, perhaps even dissecting you. All of it is too much, too soon. Too overwhelming for you to comprehend without losing your mind. You step out the front doors, suddenly stopping.

Wooyoung warned you of stepping through without holding his hand. Is that danger gone, or do you still have to worry? Are you forced to stay here against your will?

You should never have gone to that silly bonfire.

"You'll die if you leave without our permission."

You turn, Seonghwa standing there. His hands are tucked in the pocket of his cardigan, glancing over your shoulder. "We never leave it open. A few more yards and you'd be vaporized."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that?"

His lip quips, "Wooyoung told you that I wanted to experiment on you. It would be difficult to achieve that if you're only dust in the wind."

The change of personalities is still difficult to grasp.

"Then what do you propose?" You say.

"Stay longer. I'll let you go after I've tried a few things. None of it involves seriously injuring you. It's just blood sampling and majik tests. Should be no more than an hour. Once that is complete I will do further tests, but that will be in a few days."

"... and then you will let me go?"

He nods, "I have no reason for you to stay. You're not a real burden to us since no other faeries are around. As of now you’re no threat."

The alarms are blaring in your head as you stare at him, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. His words aren't enough to convince you, but you have little choice. You need one of them to help you leave. And you're positive they wouldn't until you let Seonghwa do whatever he needs to test and see why you're resistant to them. There's nothing else to debate or dwell on. The front porch creaks, Wooyoung leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. The same smug look on his face.

–

"Pretty," Yunho whispers to himself, sitting on the edge of the roof. He leans forward, dust and leaves from the tiles cascading down to the ground. It's as if in slow motion, your gaze flicking to the fallen leaves. Surprisingly, you don't look up to see where they've come from. Instead, you catch one between your fingers. Examining it for a brief moment you tuck it in your pocket, following Seonghwa into their home. Yunho almost slips as he follows your movements, flustered. He sighs, pressing his hands against his cheeks. They're quite warm despite the drop in degrees tonight.

Too pretty, he thinks. Humans aren't this pretty. The others said you weren't a faerie, but were you something else? He lets his thoughts linger, until the loud stomping of Mingi's feet distract him. He glances back, his friend sitting to the right of him. His clothing is freshly pressed. No evidence of tonight's events covering him.

"You're getting distracted already," Mingi points out, the front door closing behind you and Seonghwa. "This isn't something to attach yourself to, Yunho. An experiment and nothing else."

Yunho rolls his eyes, "I know I know, and I'm not getting distracted. She's just a human." He narrows his eyes. Right.

You're just a human.

—

"Arm."

Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he stands there, almost perturbed at the thought. “Pardon?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I need a baseline for the testing. Having your blood is necessary to see the differences and compare.”

“I don’t want to be used in your experiments on her!” Wooyoung’s voice rises, glancing at you. “Sorry.”

“No need,” you shrug. Your arm is wrapped, Seonghwa already pricked you with the small needle. Bottles of your blood sit on the side, labeled with symbols you recognize from Unseelie literature scattered about. He didn’t say anything to you as he took it from you, passed you a sugary drink and a cookie. It would have been endearing if he didn’t look so frustrated while doing it. You debated on calling him out at the look but again, you’d rather not irritate a being you know nothing of. The Seonghwa you’ve met is gone. Replaced with this angry and quite bitter Unseelie.

“Why do you make everything so difficult,” Seonghwa rubs his forehead. “Why are you even standing there if you’re not willing to help-”

“I’ll volunteer.”

Another voice enters the conversation, your gaze moving to the man who just entered the room. He’s taller than Seonghwa, quite tall actually. His face is kind, brown eyes filled with glee as they look at you. Unlike Wooyoung’s teasing which seems a bit unnerving at times, his look is easy. As if his lips naturally sit in a small smile. He lifts his sleeve, stepping around Wooyoung.

“Nice to finally see the shining star. I’m Yunho,” he holds out his hand and you take it. You can’t help but notice how despite how you always insisted that your hands are pretty big, he just engulfs yours.

“Hi. I’m y/n.”

He laughs softly, “That I know.”

Wooyoung’s voice rises. “Wait-”

“We don’t have time for the back and forth with you,” Seonghwa murmurs, beckoning Yunho closer. “Next time just say you’re okay with it and move on.”

Wooyoung’s frown only seems to deepen. He huffs, glancing between all of you before exiting the room. The door slams quite loudly, unable to stop yourself from flinching.

“It’ll be quick, you already know what to do,” Seonghwa says. Without another word he slides the needle into Yunho’s skin. You notice that his blood is clear, a thicker consistency than yours. Seonghwa pulls out several vials of it, the silence growing. Just as quick as he began it’s over. He grabs the vials, glancing between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a moment, talk amongst yourselves.” He walks off, murmuring something about refrigeration.

Yunho’s gaze easily slides over to yours. “I’m sorry about Wooyoung. He gets a bit antsy when it comes to things like this. We are wary of sharing their blood.”

“Can I ask why?”

He nods. “You might know a bit about us already from interacting, but when it comes to our essence it is sacred. Faeries are sensitive to blood exchanges because it is only something you do with a fae you are mated to. The majority of us would never willingly give up our blood for something like this. That’s why Seonghwa didn’t offer himself, and why Wooyoung was so flabbergasted at the thought of your blood mixing with his. It’s a quite sensitive topic.”

“And yet…” You trail off. And yet you did it without a second thought.

“Mhm,” he agrees, still staring at you. “The others think you’re special. So I would love to have the honor to be the baseline for the experimentation,” he chuckles, sliding his sleeve back down. “Seonghwa isn’t coming back, by the way. He’s told me to guide you out the forest and back to your home.”

Trying to decipher the wording is too much for your tired mind to comprehend right now.

“Demanifestation again?” Your stomach lurches at the thought. You’re not sure you’d survive it a second time.

Yunho shakes his head quickly. “Never. Wooyoung is a fool to have done that to you. We’ll be traveling on foot. Your home isn’t too far away from where we reside. I just need to help you through the barrier.”

You agree, standing slowly. Yunho reaches out his arm and you take it, thanking him softly. The hallways are quiet as you walk through, glancing at him. You can see his gaze glued to one of the doors you pass by, giving you a quick smile as he picks up the pace. You exit their home, and he does the same as Wooyoung did. The forest warps, the home disappearing behind you.

“You can continue to walk straight. The forest will guide you home,” he says softly, bowing. “I wish I could accompany you, but some Unseelie has been making a bit of a mess in our home and I need to fix it before Hongjoong comes.”

Hongjoong. You’ve heard the name a few times. Enough so that you can guess he’s their leader of sorts. But you’ve involved yourself enough. “Thanks for helping me. Straight you said?”

He nods, “Straight. See you soon, y/n.” He turns on his heels, dissipating into the forest. You can only imagine what the town would say if you told them of this encounter. Staring at the spot he once was, you turn back around, walking straight.

Yunho winces at the noise, shutting the front door. All of the doors of the home are open, various items thrown carelessly on the hardwood floor. He notices that the door to the library is shut. Seonghwa has had enough of it, it appears. Yunho does not blame him in the slightest. He steps over the broken vases and torn books, head aching already.

“What an incompetent Unseelie. Thriving in chaos does not mean we want it all over our floors,” Seonghwa’s voice echoes through the hallway. Ah, perhaps he is trying to deal with it now?

Yunho steps around the corner, entering Wooyoung’s room. It’s in a dire state, clothing and potion spilled, sheets ripped in half. Just as Yunho steps through the threshold, he’s thrown against the wall. Wooyoung’s hand wraps around his neck, his claw digging into Yunho’s skin. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s the reason?” he says through struggling breaths. He pulls his hand off with ease, coughing. “Shit.”

“You are always there, always stealing things from me. Could you not rest? Why in every lifetime do you have to take her away from me?” His voice cracks at the end. Yunho’s brow furrows at his words, confusion mounting. “It is always you, everytime. You always ruin my fun.”

“You’re acting like a child because I willingly exchanged blood with the human?” Yunho scoffs. “You shouldn’t have made it such a pressing issue if you wanted to do it.”

“You…” Wooyoung points his hand at him, slowly dropping it. “Give me a chance this time. Don’t steal her from me again.”

“We’ve just met this woman, Wooyoung,” Yunho says. “She is not anyone else.”

His eyes narrow, “You know what I mean.”

The front door slams loudly. Yunho closes his eyes, knowing his headache will only grow once Hongjoong enters the room. He looks at Wooyoung, blinding slowly. “You can do whatever you want with her, I don’t care. The blood exchange is complete now. You’ll have to find another way to bond with her. Figure it out yourself,” he steps out the way, feeling the wrath of his leader just behind him. Hongjoong gives him a look and he does not bother saying anything else, leaving the room.

The door cracks against the frame as it shuts.

It’s been a few days since you’ve heard from the Unseelie. You’ve been on edge all the while, tensing everytime the bell rings against the door. Only your fellow townsfolk have entered your shop now, picking up essentials and other things they need. The talk about Soobin has significantly decreased, much to your surprise. You expected for the talk to continue until the end of time. Or maybe they’re just not saying it to your face this time. You still look at your phone every time it rings, hoping to see an unknown number. You answer every time, waiting for the soft voice of Soobin on the opposite side. Instead it’s mostly robocalls. The sinking feeling has not gone away when it comes to him.

Why would he leave you?

The bell rings, and you barely glance at the door. You turn around to place a book on the shelf, dropping the one you have in your hand. He catches it with two fingers, holding it out to you. Taking a step back, you take it from him.

Wooyoung’s barely a foot in front of you, hands tucked in his pockets. He grins, brows wiggling. “Long time no see, solaris.”

He’s wearing casual clothing quite similar to Seonghwa’s wear. Instinctively, you glance down at his feet. He wears shoes this time. In fact, you’re sure you’ve seen Seonghwa wear the exact same outfit. He catches your eye, slipping from the aisle and standing in the middle of the store.

“You like?” he asks, spinning in a circle quickly. “I dressed Seonghwa in my clothes whenever he visited you. He only had those strange trench coats. Stuck out like a sore thumb.” He does the same, thumb in the air for emphasis.

You place your book on the shelf, not sure what to say to him. “Didn’t expect to see you,” you admit. “I thought Yunho or Seonghwa would come around again.”

“Seonghwa won’t dare enter human owned land again after his brief experience,” Wooyoung says. “He hates it. And Yunho isn’t really permitted to leave our land unless he’s given explicit permission. Me on the other hand,” he tilts his head. “I allow myself to enter whenever and wherever I’d like.”

They seem more restricted than you previously thought, minus Wooyoung. How he’s roaming around while - even as briefly as you’ve met him - Yunho not being able to, is a bit strange. The difference in temperament is noticeable. You saw how Seonghwa physically relaxed while taking blood from Yunho. The friendly giant feels more human-like than Wooyoung ever did.

“Why are you here?” You ask, pushing your cart into the next aisle. “Does Seonghwa need me for something?”

“Can’t I just come and visit you, solaris? Is that such a crazy idea?”

“Crazy no. Weird, yes.” You glance at him, eye twitching when you see his leg resting on the loveseat. “You act like you haven’t been around us in thousands of years. I can’t see why you’d want to hang out in a bookstore when there’s so many places in town to go to.”

“The bookstore is the only place that has the sun,” he shrugs.

“You say even stranger things,” you murmur. “And would you stop calling me that?”

“No,” he says immediately.

All you can do is sigh, continuing to place books on your shelves. Wooyoung interrupts you every now and then, either poking fun at you, or telling you another fact about them. Apparently, they’re the only group of Unseelie in town. Unseelie are rare in the faerie species, most eradicated by Seelie. He states the fact with a bit of a somber look in his eyes.

“There were thousands of us at one point,” he explains. “Then the Great War happened. Years ago, so far beyond your comprehension. So many of us fought to the death to survive. The hatred for each other runs quite deep. Most of the time when we stumble upon each other it ends in death. Now that our numbers have dropped so low - we’re not even sure how many of us are left now. Our species of faerie is dying.”

“Is that why Seonghwa is persistent in finding out why I am the way I am?” You ask, and he nods.

“If humans are developing resistance to our abilities, we will die. And not just Unseelie. Faeries as a whole thrive off of human auras. Having that removed from our societies will be detrimental. Mermaids, Seelie, Cave dwellers, Unseelie - so many of us will be gone. If there is a way to prevent that from happening we would do anything for it. But,” he shrugs. “None of us are majikians. Majik can only take us so far. Even if we find a cure, we’re in a new world. Humans will eventually discover us in masses. There will be a war, that I know of. Then Unseelie will be completely eradicated. We will be nothing.”

He twists his body to look at you. “That is why you are my solaris. My sun. You are capable of bringing us life and prosperity. You are also capable of destroying everything we have ever known. Right now you shine brightly. Let us hope that you continue to.”

“I didn’t know this was so important.” Is all that you say.

“Would you have if I didn’t just tell you?” his brow raises. “I’m not here to convince you either way. You would have to come with me whether you’d prefer it or not. It’s just nice to give you some background,” he gets up from his seat, moving around the shop. “It’s quaint here. Small town places always make me feel warm inside.”

The sudden shift of conversation is something you should get used to around them. “Soobin designed it that way. He’s been wanting this place for a while. It’s his home.”

“Soobin is your partner,” he states. Your back is turned, so you don’t see the shift in his expression. How terrifying it would be to see the ghost of a grin on his lips. “He’s not around anymore.”

You take his statements as questions. “Yeah, he is. Well, was. We had a disagreement and…” You stop in your talking. “You should know already, I’m sure Seonghwa told you about it.”

“He did, I just like hearing you talk. It’s much more soothing than his irritated, quick words everytime he speaks to me,” he murmurs. “Why aren’t you afraid?” he asks after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Before,” he slowly walks up to the opposite side of the counter, sitting on the stool. “You were afraid of me when I showed up. I heard your heart beating against your chest, but it’s silent now,” he raises a brow. “What changed?”

“You said I was in no danger with you,” you say, and he nods, waiting for you to continue. “I didn’t see a reason to continue to be scared, so …”

“That is perfect then,” he smiles, resting his head against his palm. “I’m glad you feel that way. I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore-” He stops, turning around. This time your heart does rattle against your chest. His teasing is gone, sliding off the chair. The door swings open, bell ringing. You cannot see the door from where you are, the opposite side of the store covered by the wide shelves. Not skipping a beat, Wooyoung turns to you.

“Hide. Now.”

You immediately turn, heading to the back office. Despite how much you want to turn around and look, you don’t. You hear a loud crash, the sound echoing through you. Your back office door is open and you enter, shutting it and locking it behind you. There aren't many places to hide in this room, except for exiting the store through the door. Hearing Wooyoung’s words in your head, it wouldn’t be safe for you to just leave. But there’s people out there. It’s evening. Whatever is here wouldn’t attack out in the open, right? Taking the chance, you swing the door open.

The figure standing there is terrifying enough to make you halt your escape. Its claws grip your throat, pushing you back against the back wall as it enters. Wide, golden streaks dripped down its pale body, several limbs severed and dragging along the floor behind it. Its touch is cold, nails sinking into your skin. You can’t say a word even if you wanted to, fear unlike anything you’ve ever experienced sinking into you. Its mouth opens, rows of jagged teeth lining its jaw, stench horrid.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” it hisses. Its finger slips, ripping your skin even more. You cry, hands gripping the one on your neck. It leans forward. You cannot tell whether it’s looking at you or not, holes where eyes would usually be.

“This is what they were floundering over. This is what the Unseelie are concerned about,” It spat, “Weak just like the other filthy humans.”

Its mouth stretches, the hole large enough to swallow you whole. Tears roll down your cheeks. You feel its spit drip against your forehead. Just as you have accepted your fate, you’re thrown out of the creature’s hand, body slammed against the floors.

“Repulsive.” Yunho holds the creature against the far wall, face twisted in disgust. The look is unfamiliar to you, already used to the warm gaze he shot you. He grips its neck, twisting it harshly to the side. The sound of bone and flesh being torn apart fills the air. It’s enough to make you look away. The distraction is gone, pain increasing rapidly as you look down at your injuries.

“Yunho shouldn’t be here,” Another voice appears. Seonghwa looks around the room, eyes immediately roaming over your figure. “Hell.” His body is soaked in what you can only assume is blood, immediately crouching down over you. “Think you can stand?”

You nod. You rest your hands on either side of your body, muscles straining to lift yourself up. Seonghwa merely sighs, reaching out an arm and pulling you up with ease. You stumble, pressing yourself against his chest. He doesn’t say anything more, lifting you into his arms. Your eyes roam behind him, Yunho’s face unrecognizable as he rips the being apart. Wooyoung must have entered without your knowledge, pulling his friend off the creature.

“Relax Yunho – it’s in ruins now. You don’t have to continue.” He pulls on Yunho’s arm again, this time thrown back against the floor at his attempt. Yunho does not bother turning around, continuing to rip into the thing.

“Fuck off, Wooyoung.”

“Time to get Mingi,” he sighs, glancing back at you. His brows contort in worry, “Oh my solaris, it stole your shine.”

“Get him under control enough, Mingi should be arriving soon,” Seonghwa helps you through the door, easily carrying you. You notice townspeople walking, none bothering to glance your way. Too tired to question it, your body slumps in his arms.

“The Seelie almost tore you apart,” he starts, waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street. “Wooyoung called for us just in time. Ah, your neck,” he winces as he looks at it. He lifts a hand and lightly touches your skin, mumbling words underneath his breath. “That should seal it up enough. We’re almost there.”

Your mind is too clouded with the events to give him a response. He takes it in stride, stepping into the forest. You aren’t sure how long it has taken to get to their home, but you see the familiar woods, trees gathered around the house that sits in between. He says something to another in passing, stepping into the library and shutting the door behind him. Seonghwa places you in a seat.

His hand lightly touches your temple, exhaustion slowly fading away. You blink quickly, glancing around. The room is lined with glass, contents unknown. He turns around to grab a small case, finger dragging across the surface. Inside are several bandages and other first-aid kit items. You want to thank him but your mouth is dry. Only a small wheeze escapes your lips. He glances back at you, wiggling his pointer finger.

“It is a binding spell. No words can escape until I let it be so. The claws of that Seelie dug in deep. If you speak, it may only worsen your condition.”

He rests on one knee, humming to himself. The jar he has in his hand is written in unknown scripture. He picks up the ointment with two fingers, slowly brushing it against your skin. “This is toad puss. Disgusting name and scent, but it will seal your wound much quicker than ordinary human antibiotics. Ah,” he glances behind you. “Took you long enough to arrive.”

You cannot twist your neck, moreso out of fear of tearing your skin. Wooyoung appears beside Seonghwa, glancing over your wounds. “The Seelie almost shredded her. I looked around the bookstore as I cleaned up but there was no sign of any carvings. There’s nothing on her body either. I’m not sure why they came or how they found her. ”

“Us, silly,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He grabs the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your neck. “One of the Seelie found out that we knew of a human like her. They followed one of us, or both of us, and located where she resides. Though I don’t know for sure if they followed you today and or followed me weeks ago. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Her bookstore is compromised.”

“Then what do we do?” Wooyoung asks, eyes still on yours.

“We talk to Hongjoong.”

You can see how his body deflates immediately. “But –”

“He’ll be furious, yes, but we need to tell him that the Seelie are back. And what steps we take from there. Actually, I think I heard him rummaging around his room. After I get her fixed up, I’ll go speak to him. I’m sure he’s already listening in on our conversation anyway.”

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything else, but you can see how Seonghwa’s words weigh heavy on him. You wish you could speak up for yourself. Your mind is leaning towards yelling at them for putting you in this mess in the first place. Wooyoung leaves without another word, the tap of the door closing behind him.

“What a mess,” Seonghwa sighs. He looks at you, humming again. “You are probably furious right now, aren’t you?”

You nod, and he merely laughs.

"Well you might as well get used to it. No such thing as happy endings for demonic creatures like us. Unfortunately for you, you’re now associated," he rips off the gauze wrapping with his teeth, spitting flyaway pieces to the side. His fingers slowly lift your leg. His touch is soft in comparison to his words, glancing at your face for any signs of discomfort. Not seeing one, he continues. "We Unseelie exist to balance the universe. We are not inherently evil, no. But our mere presence is distasteful, disastrous. We cannot feed without hurting humans, we cannot survive without interfering in your lives. We breathe chaos. It is all we've known and all we'll ever know – oh, did that hurt?" His voice is soft for a brief moment, seeing your brow furrow at his pressure. "Tight?"

You don’t say anything. His eyes widen for a moment, fingers brushing against a sliver of skin peeking out from the bandages on your neck. “Apologies. I was wondering why you remained so quiet.”

Your voice escapes you, quite low. "I’m fine."

He narrows his eyes but continues, much slower this time. You're not sure where this conversation stems from, but you don't dare interrupt. It's the most any of them have spoken to you about their kind. "It's not like a human would understand that it's natural for us. We enjoy killing because it is in our nature. We cannot live without it. It's a shame, really. So many Unseelie have tried to pull away, tried to stop killing. But all attempts have failed. Each one has died in the process. It is like if humans decided to stop feeding on plants and meat and decided to eat air instead. It won't work. It's unsustainable."

"I understand."

He pauses. "No, you don't. Not really."

You clear your throat. "Who are we to tell you what to do? We've considered ourselves the top of the food chain for so long, we can't think of something stronger or faster or wiser than us. What am I to do? Kill off every faerie I see?"

He nods. "That's what many human hunters have done. What many have decided to do over centuries."

"But not me."

His eyes flick between yours, expression unreadable. You don't bother to fill the silence and neither does he, hooking the gauze together with a small metal clip. You think the conversation is over, until he speaks up again.

"You are a strange one. It is of no wonder so many of us admire you."

“What –”

"It is funny what humans think of us,” he interrupts, not allowing you to comment though you desperately want to. “There is no good versus evil. Despite how much we hate the rigidness of the Seelie, they are faeries just like us. But they are not innately good just as we are not innately evil. If the world was that simple, we would have been eradicated long ago," Seonghwa muses. "Us Unseelie value chaos, sacrifice. We fight for our positions when necessary, and enjoy power. Though we all dislike humans, perhaps hate in some cases, we do welcome you. Even if it is temporary. Just because we live in forestry hills does not mean our heads are filled with dirt."

"Do you like me then?"

He grins. "I enjoy you as an experiment if that would make you feel a bit better."

"Ecstatic," you murmur.

"Well you know we cannot lie, so it must give you some reprieve. Unfortunately for us, you can lie," his eyes narrow. "What is your ex-partner's name again? Soobin?"

You say nothing. Allowing him into your head, letting him question you – it is exactly what you should not do when meeting a faerie.

"Ignoring my words?"

"You should know why I am."

He narrows his gaze, "Filthy humans and their silly rules."

"They keep us safe."

"They ruin the fun we have,” he sighs. “I can’t have you back at that bookstore, or your home,” Seonghwa stands, fingers dragging through his hair. “It’s no longer safe for you. You’ll have to stay with us for now.”

You want to debate with him, want to say that you’d rather tough it out and deal with it on your own. But you cannot forget how utterly terrified you were when that Seelie attacked. How you froze. If they weren’t there, you would’ve been long gone by now. Your family would mourn your disappearance, desperate for answers that you wouldn’t have been able to give them. Perhaps wondered if you left with Soobin, wherever he went.

It’s not something you’d ever want.

“Okay.”

He nods. “Okay then.”

He stands, about to leave. "Seonghwa."

He turns around.

"Before, Wooyoung was telling me how you would never enter the human owned land again because you despised it. But you did today. Why is that?"

A strange look crosses his face. "Wooyoung told you such words?"

You nod. "He did."

A breathy laugh follows suit, "That seems like something he would do. I'll set up your temporary room and be back." Seonghwa doesn't say another word, exiting the room. His avoidance of the question only creates more confusion.

“You are all making a fuss for a human you don’t even know. Curiosity can only stretch so far. What else are you going to do? Sacrifice yourselves so that she can live? This is more than silly. It’s stupid.”

Hongjoong paces back and forth in the library, Seonghwa flipping through several documents to see if there is any solution to what’s happening now. If he can find some semblance of an answer, perhaps she wouldn’t have to stay at all. But as of now he has found nothing of consequence. Nothing to stop the Seelie from coming after you.

“If the Seelie are after her and want to kill her, then there’s something there. Why give up now?” Seonghwa says, barely looking up from his literature. “It doesn’t have to involve you if you don’t want it to. We can keep her away from this side of the house.”

“That’s not my point and you're more than the wiser to understand that."

“Then what is?”

“You are undermining me,” Hongjoong’s eyes narrow. “You all made me the leader of our spark. And it is my duty to protect us all from harm. Ever since this human has come around, things have been happening. You should have just killed it when you first stumbled across it. And now Yunho is all out of sorts and Mingi has to watch him. Seelie have emerged again. None of this is okay.”

Seonghwa merely rolls his eyes. “We are Unseelie, we’re trained for this.”

Hongjoong stops pacing, shaking his head. “We are very few in number, Seonghwa. We cannot risk our extinction. Not for a useless human. Once the news has spread that you three have killed Seelie, there will be war. There is only so much I can protect us from.”

“We can protect ourselves. And it is too late anyway,” Seonghwa says simply. “We killed the Seelie for a reason.”

“You could have let them kill her and we would have had this problem eradicated.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hongjoong pauses. He stares at his friend, his mate. Seonghwa does not often express his care. Has not for a while. “Unless you care for it?”

Seonghwa frowns. “Stop suggesting silly things.”

“Say you don’t care for it and I’ll believe you.”

Seonghwa stares at him, desperate for the words to escape him. But his true nature prevents him from doing so. He can only hope that Hongjoong does not push the issue further. He’s already dealt with endless pestering today. He thought he'd at least get a bit of reprieve from Hongjoong. Instead he is only being scowled. It's no wonder he actively avoids his presence every chance he gets.

“Say it, Seonghwa.”

“Haven’t we all irked him enough today?” Yunho enters the room, Wooyoung close behind. Not seeing Mingi hanging around is a bit odd, but neither of them mention it. “Pestering him about this is a mute point. We all have to keep an eye on her for now. Until all of this is settled. Maybe we should pick up the talks tomorrow.”

Seonghwa grabs the book he has in his hand and leaves the room, Hongjoong exiting in the opposite direction. Yunho sighs softly, exhaustion riddling his body. He doesn’t acknowledge Wooyoung trailing behind him, lounging on the long sofa. Said Unseelie paces around his resting figure, picking at the skin by his nails.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Yunho murmurs, one lid opening to look at his friend. “I’m okay now.”

Wooyoung sits in front of him, head pressed against his thigh. Yunho reaches down, fingers massaging Wooyoung’s scalp. It's a common routine. Anytime he's overwhelmed, Yunho hears the soft tapping of his knuckles against his bedroom door. Most times he needs the comfort of their bodies against one another's, breathes mingled in the low light. But this is one of those rare moments that Yunho isn't able to provide such a comfort. His mind is too consumed with thoughts unlike his own. And Wooyoung seems to know it as well, trembling underneath the scratch of Yunho's nails against his scalp.

He lets out a long breath, looking up at his mate. Yunho's eyes look heavy. Exhausted. “It is not her I am worried about right now, Yunho. I shouldn’t have called you.” Wooyoung starts.

“You only thought of the first person on your mind. It’s alright.”

“It should have been Mingi or Jongho first. We all know how these things affect you and I messed up again. Much, much worse than last time.”

Yunho's fingers pause in combing his hair. A horrid reminder. He swallows slowly, pushing those thoughts away.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho shakes his head. “You can’t continue to blame yourself. The past is the past.”

He closes his eyes, lower lip trembling. “You could have lost yourself completely. Yunho, Mingi had to injure you to stop you. I should know what to do when you’re like that, I should be able to stop you–”

"Your presence was enough."

He shakes his head. "The Seelie was barely recognizable. It was a pile of mashed flesh –"

“Hey, stop,” he pulls his fingers from his hair, resting on the bottom of his chin. His strength is barely used as he tilts his head up to look at him. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I can’t tell you to stop thinking about it because I know you and I know you will, but I’m okay, Woo. I’m fine. Please don't let those thoughts burden you. You could not pull me out of it, but it's not your fault. I listened to your call. I decided to come. I could have told one of the others first. It was my choice.”

"Yun…"

"Mmm," He lets go of his chin, arms opening. Wooyoung wastes no time in sinking into his embrace, chest rising and falling calmly. "I'm okay."

“Are you sure?” His voice is softer this time. His fingers dig deeply into the fabric of his blouse. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Unseelie can’t lie.”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, Yunho’s warm laugh echoing around the room. “Fine. I am okay, and I’m not lying to you.”

"Promise?" He's persistent, hands cupping Yunho's face. "Promise me?"

"I promise, pretty faerie."

Wooyoung hides himself in the sleeve of Yunho’s shirt. "You're trying to distract me."

"It seems to be working," Yunho teases.

They enjoy each other's silence, Wooyoung lifting his head up again. "I'm sorry for before. For getting angry at you like that. I just let my feelings overtake me and blew up. I'm sorry."

"Already forgiven."

"You shouldn't, though. I hurt you," Wooyoung's eyes roam Yunho's neck. Though he has already healed, the puncture marks of his claws are still scars against his skin. Wooyoung leans up, pressing his lips lightly against the risen skin, Yunho's body trembling beneath the touch. "I hurt you."

"You can't help it."

"But I didn't try to stop myself."

"The human brings out the worst in us, it seems."

Wooyoung laughs, the sound not at all reaching his eyes. He ponders for a moment. "I like her."

Yunho takes his words with hesitance. It's been very apparent since he's seen you that Wooyoung has grown a soft spot for you. Though he can't quite understand how it happened so quickly. The Unseelie has barely spent more than a day with you. "I know."

"I want her to like me too."

"Good luck with that."

He frowns. "She will like me, Yunho."

"I know. You're too easy to like, Wooyoung. She will eventually feel the same as you."

"You think?" he gives Yunho a toothy grin.

"I know."

—

You sit on the porch, staring out into the night. The breeze is quieter than before, whistling through the branches and leaves. The throbbing pain in your neck has subsided greatly. You can only thank Seonghwa silently, fingers brushing against the gauze tight on your neck. You can still see the way that Seelie looked at you, the ferocity in its eyes. How easily it could have snapped you in half if it truly wanted to. Have you brought this all upon yourself? Letting Seonghwa creep into your life? Was the loneliness too much to bear that you've attached yourself to the next person who was a bit kinder to you? You rub your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly.

"Pathetic," you mumble, tucking your knees close to your chest. Your desperation for a reason why Soobin left you alone led you here. Stuck in a house filled with mythical beings. None of which care for you. You should have just gone home once he disappeared. Maybe then you wouldn't be stuck here. The stinging feeling in your throat burns. You hold it back. You can't cry. Not here. Not around them.

"Thoughts fogging your mind so deeply that you didn't hear me knock?"

You look up, Wooyoung's head peeking out from the overhang on the porch. His hair is wild, flowing in the breeze. He takes your non answer as acceptance of his presence, dropping down from the roof to sit on the railing. He tilts his head as he stares down at you. "You look upset."

"I'm stuck in a place I don't know with people I don't know because creatures I don't know are attacking me for a reason I don't know. So yes, maybe I'm just a little upset about my circumstances."

"You do know why they attacked you," he points out. "They want you dead."

"Reassuring," you give him a half smile. "Thanks for that."

"I'm… I'm not trying to get on your bad side, solaris. I'm trying to make you like me. I want you to be comfortable around me."

"You shouldn't care how I feel about you, Wooyoung. You've already done your job luring me here. Now leave me alone."

His lips frown, sighing softly. "What else can I do to help?"

"Is it not enough that you've trapped me here? I would thank you for saving my life, but you all are the reason those things came after me. I would have lived normally without your meddling. Seonghwa should have…" He should have killed you and gotten it over with.

"You don't mean that." He looks at you with such a pitiful, worried look that for a moment, you believe in his concern. Believe that he actually is upset for you. But you know it's not at all true. You know it's another ploy to make you feel comforted by him, by them. And you're not foolish, no. Unseelie do not care for humans.

They never will.

"I do."

"Solaris–"

"And call me by my name, Wooyoung." You slowly stand up, ignoring his hand reaching out to steady you. "Now goodnight." You slowly limp towards the French doors, shutting them behind you. You stare into his eyes as you turn the lock, shutting the curtains.

#fic: wonderwall #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #briefly:#jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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