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#i'm sorry i'm really rambling i hope this makes sense!!

acatpiestuff · 4 months

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@critterbitter OK so

First off:

Yes this is a fully pokemon world

THE BOYS AREN'T POKEMON THEYRE JUST NORMAL ASS SEALS/SELKIES because i think its funny. Because of this decision, Arceus has no idea how they got here but is now sweating cause it doesn't really know how to make them leave.

this technically means that theyre an invasive species?? i guess but eh

Drayden is here in this AU, but he's on vacation (gone fishing) [GONE WRONG]

the boys are good at hunting for fish

this means that the fishing in the bay they appeared in has been SUFFERING when it comes to fishing because these damn seals are hindering them

Ingo found litwick in a shipwreck and just kind of visits its shipwreck until he figures out what pokeballs and battling is

tynamo convinced Emmet not to eat it, and now just kind of follows Emmet around. (they are friends :D)

Later on, perhaps maybe a year into the seal guys terrorizing the port, I think Drayden just goes like "damn this vacation fucking sucks" and goes up to the seal boys and is like:

"So y'all are able to be humans right" "sure" "I guess" "I'mma be absolutely real with you two, I need you to find a hobby other than stealing clothes and things from everyones boats, and depleting the fish population. Do you know what battling is" "Hunting someone for sport" "Absolutely incorrect. Anyway take this ball. You can catch pokemon creatures in them. You then make your creature and another creature fight each other. Go. Please" "okay"

(AND then the boys proceed to get really good at battling. Poor Drayden just sits in his boat with his head in his hands, and is just like damn. Now the seals can extort MONEY from us too why did I do this)

THIS WAS A VERY CONVOLUTED REPLY BUT YES they DO EVENTUALLY GET ALL THEIR TEAM MEMBERS IT JUST TAKES A WHILE BECAUSE THEY GOTTA FIGURE OUT WHAT BATTLING IS FIRST

maybe later later later on they acquire a boat for themselves too... hmhmmhhmhhmhmhmm...

#ahahhahehehehehe SORRY MY NIGHTLY RAMBLINGS ARE VERY DISORGANIZED BUT YEAH #this is a silly au where things are very silly and nothing is really taken seriously so i get silly w it #selkie au #submas #ingo #emmet #drayden #I SAY VACATION BUT MORE LIKE SORT OF RETIREMENT #POOR DRAYDEN AND HIS FISHING VACATION GONE WRONG #but yeah #haehheahe #emmet tried to eat tynamo and tynamo is just like hey please dont do that #and emmets like oh. ok #and then tynamo just sticks around for the rest of time #i'm so tired i hope this makes sense #catpie hollers

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jahiera · 10 months

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omg your tags on that last rb? i want to know your Exact thoughts on That dialogue in the scene right after astarion and tav get together because it is so interesting to me 👀

***WRITTEN DURING EA

Okay hi yes, I do indeed have some thoughts. Fair disclaimer that this is just my interpretation! I've only been playing the game for a few days technically, so this is all my first impulse in terms of characterization and influenced by my own path, so! Other interpretations will also be super interesting to read about. Also, obviously, we don't have the full cut, whatever comes out in 2 weeks will come out in 2 weeks. Anyways! Overanalyzing this little bastard's dialogue below.

Okay, this affectionate ribbing was referencing this dialogue here where you can comment on Astarion not being totally "present" post-party sex. Sorry this took me a second to respond to, I wanted to grab the screens for this:

(screencaps of subtitles that read:

Astarion: That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?

(new scene) Astarion: You sleep light. I thought you'd be exhausted after last night

Tav: Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren't fully there.

Astarion: I was holding back a little, it's true. I didn't want to lose control.

To preface this, Astarion's arc is clearly dealing with the push/pull of power and control, one's personal agency (and how it can be taken away), and what happens when an individual reclaims power after for a very long time being without that power. He's endured god-knows-what for 200 years, giving glimpses of his former life, the torture under Cazador, the things he had to do for Cazador (which, included at least finding Cazador's meals through likely charm and seduction, without his own say in the matter.) Now he's out, he's free, he's experiencing the world for the first time basically (as he remarks on in ambient dialogue a lot: everything looks different. Click on a globe and he'll say something along the lines of having never seen the world, but there's time now.) Stating all of that is necessary to me because I think whatever's going on in his terrible brain is several factors all kind of thrown into one; some factors good, some bad, some neutral, some questionable; again, just my interpretation of him, but.

OKAY. Now that that's out of the way. The first interpretation of this scene (and the sex scene in general in its limited capacity: since we don't have eyes on the cinematic.) we can have is the obvious one: you two had a great night, Astarion is being upfront, he simply didn't want to lose control, nothing else here to look at. It's fantasy sex and it's simply good fun.

(The rest is under a cut. Sorry, this kind of turned into a meta Astarion and Sex and all of that? Anyways. CW for a bit of discussion about sexuality + trauma + implications of lack of consent.)

But Do I Believe It's That Simple? Not Really.

On one side, I do think Astarion is genuine in his pursuing of Tav, of sex, of good times and pleasure: he's been locked away for 200 years and now he's traipsing around in mud (a novelty), which might not be ideal, but he can still enjoy the thrill of that too, looks for what's in it for him, what feels good, etc. in all of the circumstances he finds himself in. There's a kind of subdued wonder from him about the world at large; remarks on craving the sun while you're in the Underdark, of experiencing the world, and I think he really is rushing around relishing the freedom as much as he can. And since of course he can reject you, he's not doing anything he doesn't want to do. In short: "simple pleasures," have eluded him under Cazador's thumb, and good sex with someone that you're into is likely just one more of those things he hasn't really gotten to do in ... [checks notes] 200 years.

But I don't think that's the only thing going on in this scene. The fact that the dialogue specifically notes a kind of distance from him feels relevant (since, if they wanted us to think it was all seamless good fun, they could've left it as is.) And the thing is, Astarion. is a big fucking liar.

When he wants to brush aside his dream to Tav, he'll simply say he had some naughty dream and brush it off--which we later find out was a lie ("that's what we call a lie, darling.") and his dreams have actually been about Cazador. Again, only relevant because the first thing Astarion reaches for when he wants to obfuscate the truth is lying through charm, or lying through witty barbs, and when pushed, turns into outright snappy aggression. Saying that the only thing on his mind was the hunger is an easy solution to reach for; maybe it's not even quite wrong, that likely was also an aspect of it! But.

His general .. quick sleazy flirting doesn't come out of nowhere. He uses it liberally, and with everyone, in his Evil Twink Fashion. Can flirt with half the camp at one point or another in environmental dialogue (specifically gets shut down by Shadowheart and Gale, humiliatingly.. the secondhand embarrassment there oh boy.) How much of that he learned while under Cazador's thumb, having to manipulate and charm for Cazador, sexualizing situations where he did not actually have full say and consent in the circumstances, is unknown to us, but can be inferred as not negligible. It's his default state. Charm and persuasion and trickery spell safety, as does disguising any kind of weakness. Disguising his weakness poorly, mind, because he obviously has several moments of raw vulnerability you can get even without his romance being initiated.

I think his current mental state here is a combination of that; of lying to disguise whatever raw state is beneath, unearthed by having simply... some good fun with someone, not out of servitude to Cazador, not to flirt or cajole to protect his own skin, but yet one more thing that's been denied to him (and, possibly, albeit we can only guess at this, not claiming it as canon, forced on him unwantedly) over the last 200 years. But he and Tav here aren't close, close yet, and when Tav tries to push (via talking about the scars on his back), Astarion clams up quite quickly, moving on from the discussion as soon as possible. So whatever is under the minor half-truth of "losing control," isn't open to us yet; we've really just met in the grand scheme of things.

We don't know yet what sex means to Astarion; he hasn't really elaborated beyond the obvious. But, I think, given his behavior, his casual flirtiness, his "You want to lose yourself in me," (another line I can squawk about endlessly in terms of character analysis), sexuality (actual sex or simply sexualization) can be as much a means of securing safety, control, coercion, power, and pinpointing weakness. It's also something he can clearly also desire wholeheartedly and with no ulterior motives involved; and I think this moment shows that, and he's grappling with it uncomfortably, what this means for him, one more thing that he can reclaim for himself. He craves something real, I think, and he's only just now beginning to form a real identity outside of what Cazador did to him, and how Cazador haunts him.

Pursuing something like this is one more step in that direction. Unlearning these gut impulses to lie and deceive and charm his way with Tav is probably what we're going toward, given his glimpse of a reaction to a hug. Whatever else Astarion has to work through in regards to intimacy is up in the air, but there's clearly a lot more going on beneath his fairly shallow veneer of charm and flirtatiousness.

(Which. Can we just have the option to hug him as a casual dialogue option? Please?)

#bg3 meta #astarion #asks answered #I really hope you meant you wanted a full blown essay because that.. is what this is HGHFHG #Thank you for asking though! That's really sweet of you and I'm. I hope this garbled rambling makes some kind of sense?#I'm so sorry. I had THINGS to say apparently!#baldurs gate 3 #playing bg3

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coffee-with-mint-syrup · 4 months

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Look, I didn't want to be "that" person

who criticizes something just because "it was different in the books".

But I love PJO just way too much to not feel frustrated at the tendencies of modern adaptations that I think new series is suffering from. And I feel much more frustrated because in others aspects the new show is great.

First of all, what's with this downplayed brutality of PJO world? The moment Sally started her speech about Perseus I smelled trouble. In her story, in her reasoning she named him after Perseus because of this beautiful story where happy ending is just something that happens. While in the books thats a huge deal that Percy is named after THE ONLY HALF-BLOOD HERO that had that happy ending. That fact is supposed to highlight the mortality rates and that for most of these demigods happy ending is pretty much NOT IN PROSPECT. Like, despite that rambling post I'm usually fine with some differences that are made in adaptations, most of them I usually can understand. But why do you need change the message of "I named you that way because I hope you will live happily ever after despite being in constant danger" to "I named you that way because it's a beautiful story about a mother and a son"? Especially when they absolutely could do both?

Secondly, the Gabe issue. You see, Percy Jackson books were great because they were able to discuss with children some pretty heavy themes without downplaying them - like domestic abuse. And that scene with poker players and Gabe getting from Percy money was brilliant because it showed that Gabe was so awful that he took everything he could even from a 12 y.o. There were also heavy implications that he beat Percy. But now Gabe is just your usual jerk who is lazy and doesn't have a good relationship with his stepson and argues with his wife all the time. Look, I know, that is awful too, I know that. But the point of Gabe that he was absolutely the worst. That he's the worst of the worst that's why he smells on this metaphysical level and is able to hide Percy. That he kinda deserved what happened to him in the end. And now I sure that we won't get that end because apparently that stuff is too brutal for kids. If they're afraid that much younger audience would get shocked by it they could at least do that in hints, you know. Old shows were great with things that you didn't understand as a child and then later while rewatching them you finally could get the message.

And what's with this Grover thing? Okay, I understand they probably didn't have the time for establishing why Percy would feel betrayed by his teacher but wanted to save this "low point" for Percy's character. But why? Why? How Percy as a character and we as viewers are supposed to feel that amazing friendship if it started for us with betrayal? That just sucked.

Also, personal flaw - they really could insert "This is a pen" line when Brunner gave Percy the pen. They really could and that would be so awesome. But they didn't.

And the sad part is that now I understand that there was no way they could include this important stuff in the series. Because Disney is too afraid to show domestic abuse. They afraid to show Sally Jackson that put up with heavy abuse just to keep her son safe. They afraid to show that literal children die in PJO world. That that half-blood stuff is no game - as Percy said in the very first minute of the series. For fuck's sake they didn't even mention him having ADHD! They implied that by saying that he was being weird! That was so so so so important that those things that kids with ADHD are struggling make them so special and strong in their own way. And now that message is gone too.

And all of that is because Disney doesn't have any balls left. It's like they sanitize everything they make into that 0+ versions of stories while sometimes the point of the story is in discussing something from a real, sad and unsanitized world.

The stuff I listed is just from the first episode and I don't know if the show will go that way, if this tendency of sanitizing the story will continue or not. I'm just really afraid that all of that means that they decided to leave out all the brutality that made Percy Jackson so iconic. It is like watching this new version of Harry Potter where he doesn't live under the stairs - that maybe doesn't change much story-wise but it's just not the same Harry Potter that way.

I want to like the show, I really do. Walker is so amazing is this role. Other actors are really great. I see the effort, I see how people tried to make this adaptation as close to books as they could. The show looks truly amazing. The fight with minotaur was absolutely stunning. Ending sequence is a masterpiece. I have so many good things I can say about it. But those little things they changed - they weren't little at all. A huge chunk of what made those books so special at least for me is gone (especially in comparison with Harry Potter books). And I can't help feeling sad.

#i'm really sorry for being bitter #i promise you i'm not one of those angry “it wasn't in the book!” fans #i feel alright with changes and sacrifices that were made for the adaptation #it's just the things they chose to change if this makes sense #that is saying something and i don't like the way it goes #maybe it will turn out fine in the end #i really hope so #no intention of hating something here #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson series #long post #spilled thoughts #sorry for rambling

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hazzybat · 3 months

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Hello, big fan of your monster au fic, love every bit of it 🫶🏻

I have two questions for you

1. How did this fic start? Like, what made this idea spark in your head and say "yes, I wanna write this"?

2. Maybe it's me who didn't get it, but in your fic world are humans aware of the existence of these creatures? I know they are a band, do they perform in front of human audiences, monster audiences, a mixture of them because monsters hide among humans?

Hey there! Thank you so much and I'm so glad you like it!!

1) i always love monster AUs. Alternate worlds were my fave part of any fandom and imagining monsters was extra fun. My fave books as a kid were about monsters and creatures living kinda ordinary lives. A good book series as a kid was Phredde the Fairy which had such a well thought out world that incorporated magic so easily with the real world.

I also love the idea of how what monster you pick to represent yourself can show your personality. For me i would be a Frankenstein monster cause I feel I'm made of lots of different pieces all sewn together and trying to be human.

You can play around with characters so easily, have the wolf transformation of a werewolf represent feeling out of control or having to lock away and hide a part of yourself.

A ghost can represent wanting to be seen and heard but always being ignored and fading into the background.

You can make it as deep as you want or you can just want to play with some fun powers and interesting scenarios.

For me I really wanted to just have an AU I could play with. I could make a whole world for, with lots of backstory and detail and I could make it complex or it could be read as just light-hearted fun.

I'm probably autistic so having character traits be manifested as physical things (bojan's whore tendancies= he is a sex demon) make it easier for me to write them and understand them. Jan's tail can express his emotions even if he doesn't as much irl.

(Also artwork in this universe is much easier and fun to do cause they all have distinct look lol)

(Sorry that got long. TL:DR I just wanted to play with a world I made)

2) I haven't addressed it really but monsters and humans exist alongside one another in relative harmony. Well as harmonious as humans get. Joker Out is slightly unusual in that every member is a monster but yeah there's humans who like them. Humans are boring to write about though so I don't bring them up.

Several monsters start off human. Kris was a human until he was 19 and was then turned (Martin was also turned) and Nace is made from pieces of human but made a monster by combining them together.

I considered making some background and crew characters human but that's much less fun to play with than monsters so I just never brought up who was what.

Basically think of any monster race as like a different human race or disability or anything really. Everyone knows they exist, some places have higher concentrations of certain types, some places are more prejudice, some are more accommodating.

They're as normal and diverse as people having different hair colours.

#I'm hoping this makes sense and kinda answers your question #sorry for rambling a bit lol #monster hearts #JO monster AU #loved the question and i really hope you enjoy reading it #JO Monster AU worldbuilding #JO Monster AU writing/BTS

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commsroom · 10 months

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Ok along with the Eiffel regaining his memories with music, as like a “what happens in the future” thing the power of music relating to memory is also something that could work with the dear listeners.

Like music is not only something they haven’t conquered yet, but it is also potentially a new discovery for them about the connection music has to memory? Cause they obviously have a lot of knowledge about memory (lovelace’s memories, getting into Eiffel mind, etc.) but since they don’t understand music it’s a whole new facet to the memory thing!

Lol anyways I’m mostly rambling, but dear listeners and musical memory!

you know, that's got me thinking... the dear listeners can clearly reconstruct memory, they can access eiffel's memories, they can alter the mental infrastructure of other beings, lovelace's blood protects her and the others from pryce's mind control, etc. but how would they actually conceptualize memory? memory is in so many ways about how an individual person perceives the world around them - about bias, and change, and growth... self-perception, and the way we relate to others as singular beings trying to communicate our own experiences.

memory is clearly part of the "template" for the duplicates; they all show up like they were preserved exactly at the moment they were copied. the tiamat crew observed emerging differences between them, but i think that's mostly situational + perspective. at the moment they show up, they're the same, but everything that happens to them from that point on is going to be unique to them, and will shape them differently, even in little ways.

the dear listeners have a collective memory, awareness of concepts and knowledge like they implanted in eiffel's mind, but they don't have a concept of personal identity. would they even understand that connection between memory and music, or the significance of eiffel regaining his memory at all? is the understanding of memory as the part where "you" come in - the idea of a "you" in that sense at all - also a human concept within the context of the show?

i don't really have an answer to this, but i think i like what it suggests. if music is the hallmark of humanity, then that connection between music and some very human sense of self, things that have to be understood on a personal level... that the songs that resonate with eiffel can only resonate with him the way they do because he's eiffel. the soundtrack of his life isn't interchangeable with anyone else's.

#thank you!! i'm sorry this took me a few days to reply to!! i wanted to think about it. this feels very rambling #and i couldn't really think of a better way to communicate this idea so. i hope it makes enough sense.#it's always kind of hard to know how much to factor the dear listeners into stuff like this too because their presence is. by nature #on such a Big Picture timeline.#and the dear listeners... even the way they 'create' is so. stagnant. i'm not sure how to express it except...#there's a line from angel (paraphrased): 'after a while [a single note] is just noise. it's the change we're listening for -#the note after that and the one after that. that's what makes it music.'#asks

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spmcomic · 2 years

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What are the count's thoughts and feelings on Mr. L when he does eventually join the team? Is he just an asset, a hindrance, or potentially, he has respect for this fated wielder of the chaos heart? Or even a misguided sort of paternal affection to Mr. L that the count himself never got to have himself?

hmmm. are you asking for my thoughts in general, or with regards to the gang as i've written them in filling the void? i'm keeping the bros backstage for now with the comic, we'll get there when we get there, but i can talk a bit about the "source material" as it were.

keeping in mind that mr. l is only in about three chapters of the game compared to the rest of the villains, we just don't get a lot of screen time where he interacts with nastasia or the count. looking through the script, mr. l's interactions with count bleck amount to "insulting his choice in minions to his face" and that's it, really- in the castle meeting before the sammer kingdom, the count isn't there. L attempts to excuse himself early from every meeting he attends.

i feel like there's so much going on in the gang's lives by the time the void gets opened that, at least for the count, L becomes kind of... background noise, in a way? like "wait, there's another guy here, that's nice i guess, we need all the hands we can get" almost. a lot of their relationship is going to depend on how long you think super paper mario takes, in-universe. whether or not they have any time to even develop a relationship at all.

if anything, i'd say he respects L's power, and his role in the story the prognosticus has woven. if they got to know each other personally, a lot of L's comments would probably rub the count the wrong way, but i'm sure watching L banter with his teammates would help the count relax about that. it seems like the count often can't help but care about the people around him (even when he thinks he doesn't care) and that's something his minions all appreciate about him. i wonder if that passive charm would work on mr. l the same way. i can see them being friendly or finding hobbies in common, if they had the time.

#ask #anonymous #mr l #count bleck #sorry lol i think this is less than you were hoping for #mr. l is in a surprisingly small amount of the game #and i think i have trouble seeing the count as paternal with any of the minions besides mimi #he seems to have a very skewed sense of his closeness to others #which would make sense considering. his dad.#but if all the characters are adults then i don't think he'd really try to 'parent' any of them #he's just a Concerned Guy in general #i'm just rambling at this point lol thank you for sending in an ask

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likeabxrdinflight · 2 years

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I know the morality play of the Raphael/Atem duel gets...weird, a little bit. There's a bizarre emphasis on how Raphael believes it's selfish and wrong to carelessly send monsters to the graveyard and that gets played up in this duel, but...many, many previous duels have showed how sacrificing monsters and having them in the graveyard can be a good strategy, and work to one's advantage. It isn't always such a terrible thing. Atem using catapult turtle to win a duel is not exactly a new strategy for him, he's done it before, and it's far from the worst thing he's ever done if we consider season 0 canon. and yet the episode frames that as the big indicator of Atem "giving into darkness" which.........eh?

But. There is something deeper at play in this duel that goes far beyond how people treat their trading cards. The real problem here- and Yugi will spell this out later- is that Atem struggles a bit with empathy, but he especially struggles with it when his pride is on the line. This duel really had no stakes in it- Raphael tells him the professor is fine, and he states point blank he isn't going to use the Seal of Orichalcos- there is nothing to lose here.

But the two of them bet on their "sense of justice" at the start. To Atem, this is a very black and white morality. Atem's sense of justice tells him that Doma and any working with it are wrong (objectively true) and therefore anyone working with them is also evil (less objectively true). He can't quite see that the enemy in front of him might not be Bad with a capital B. Good is good, bad is bad, so if you're doing bad and working with bad- you're bad. Even if he respects you as an opponent. But what he can't really see is that Raphael is, fundamentally, a good person making bad choices because he's been hurt. Raphael basically spells it out for him, and he still can't see it.

So in many ways, this is the world view that Atem is betting on in this duel- Raphael is working with the organization that's trying to destroy the world, therefore he's evil, and Atem is good. And Atem has to be good, right? He's fought evil, he's won, he's not bad, he's not dark like the others who use milliennium items, he's not the "evil intelligence" Pegasus warned of in the manga and he definitely couldn't possibly have been an evil Pharaoh when he was alive...right?

And that's the other thing Atem can't admit, and it's what Raphael calls him out on most directly- Atem can't admit to his own darkness. He can't acknowledge the darkness in his heart, the potential for evil in everyone. Things have to be black and white for him, because if not...what is he? And it's so easy for Raphael to dig into this insecurity, it is so easy for him to make Atem doubt his own goodness- because he doesn't know who he was, does he? But he can't believe it, can't make himself believe he was a bad person before, and he definitely can't believe that he could be now. This is what's at stake for Atem during this game- it's his entire sense of self, really.

And this logic is actually deeply consistent with the earliest version of Atem- season 0/first manga arc Atem, and I'd argue, the morality play of this duel only really works when you consider that first arc/season 0. Stay with me now.

In season 0, Atem challenged "bad" people to shadow games with the intent that the game would decide who was right or wrong based on the outcome. The losers of his earliest shadow games usually lost because they couldn't follow the rules based on some character flaw. The games exposed their weaknesses and they paid the price for it. This was why he was always so confident- he was acting based on his sense of justice, and was absolutely certain in the correctness of his position (which, to be fair, was usually "save Yugi and/or his friends from literally dying), so...it wasn't necessarily an incorrect stance. Atem was doling out some pretty harsh penalty games, but he wasn't wrong about the flaws of these people he challenged.

What we never did was consider whether or not these people really deserved the punishments they were given. Did a high school bully really deserve to be tortured into insanity? Did an escaped criminal deserve to be burned alive? All justice, no empathy. But is that really justice at all? Now to be fair, with Yugi's influence Atem does calm down a lot over the course of season 0 and into Duel Monsters canon. He becomes a much better person. But we never exactly see him express remorse for the penalty games he inflicted, either. We never see him question his choices, or whether he was right or wrong.

Games are form of justice to him. To lose a game is to be in the wrong. He never lost, therefore, he was never wrong.

This inability to question his own beliefs and actions, to consider his own capacity for darkness, and to truly empathize with the person on the other side of the field, is what leads to him losing the test Raphael gives him. It is why he can justify playing the Seal himself- the methods don't matter to Atem in the moment- if he wins, he was right, he was good, and he's always been right and good, and that is all that matters because his sense of self is actually really fucking fragile if the outcome of a card game can shatter it- so he plays the Seal.

It reminds me of a quote from Avatar- "Pride is not the opposite of shame, but it's source." Atem is someone with an enormous amount of pride- and an equal amount of shame lingering just under the surface. Because I think that question Pegasus first posed to him- that question of evil- has been festering for a long time. I think Atem knows, deep down, that his early shadow games were wrong, they weren't that different from Pegasus or Marik or even Doma themselves- but he cannot go there with it, cannot let himself question it. I'll get into this more later, but Yugi will later tell him that in his doggedly stubborn sense of pride and honor, he can't hear others' pain or suffering. And I think this stubborn clinging to his sense of pride is a way of masking his own pain and suffering too, his own deeply felt shame- because Atem can't really hear that either.

Until he loses the game. Until he loses Yugi, and it shatters his pride completely, breaks him wide open.

#yugioh #atem #this is very rambly I hope it is coherent #...might have to make another post on how yugi and atem balance each other out because while yugi is an expert at the empathy thing #he sucks at the justice part #and ideally you want a bit of both #anyway #the writing is actually much better here than people give it credit for sorry if you watched the dub #anyways this is atem's best character arc by far and I'm so sad it's technically filler lol #...you could argue this slightly undercuts the earlier arc in duelist kingdom about him overcoming his fear of losing #but it's not really the same thing imho #this is less about the fear of losing his pride for pride's own sake #it's more about the fear that losing means he's been wrong all this time about who he is #more about the fear that he's not a good person after all #which again I think makes more sense if you consider season 0 #so in that context #atem regressing a bit makes sense to me #anyways this is long I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this character lmao

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ftm2bbw · 1 year

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So I just wanted to say I really appreciate this blog. I came in to this because tumblr recommended you as a Breast Expansion blog but there's some nuances to it I never expected. A lot of B.E. kink material that I go through is geared towards cis-het men like myself and occasionally cis women, but I'd never have considered that some trans men enjoyed it too, and with themselves as the subjects! It's a really enlightening experience to get horny through a new lens like this.

With that said, I really like writing stories for you and I was wondering what I could to do tailor them more for a transmasc experience beyond mentioning binders sometimes.

~🍨

I'm glad you're having as much fun writing 'em as I am reading/responding. Because...woof. 🥵

I definitely think my longstanding BE/lactation kink was the gateway into me exploring and enjoying my wider re-feminization kink and such. It's been an interesting journey so far, and I know as a trans man I'm definitely an odd one out for having this + related kinks. Haha.

As for tailoring it for a more trans masc experience, I think a lot of it is gonna depend on the individual. I know for me as a trans man, one of the hottest/kinkiest parts about breast expansion/etc is that it's honed in an aspect of my body that's stereotypically aligned with femininity. I'm a fat bear of a dude irl so while my tits are pretty big I can often pass them off as moobs - which is a big reason why the idea of them getting too big/milky to hide is so damn hot to me. Similar thing with my ass and hips (which are already huge and wide but I digress, lol.) I also have forced shaving and lingerie/bra kinks for the same reason. While I don't get off to bio-essentialism, my body betraying me by being forced to grow/develop in a way I find dysphoric/embarrassing/humiliating/etc is very hot. And of course, being teased or praised for my body developing in a more feminine/womanly way.

The other side of that coin though, is being encouraged/taught/conditioned to enjoy and get off to those very aspects of my body that are causing me distress (albeit horny distress.) Especially if they're being purposely grown/developed/etc.

While you didn't ask about it, I'll add that my weight gain fetish doesn't work the same way, even if it's often complimentary to my other kinks. I don't find being fat or getting fatter embarrassing or etc, I'm just a hedonist and get off on it in that regard. Haha.

#sorry that was a ramble and a half #I'll also add that I have a huge hormone fuckery/sabotage kink #slower growth fantasies involving hormones and etc tend to drive me while because they're more realistic #and of course a longer timeline really brings out the headfuckery aspect for me #hope this makes sense I'm half asleep lol #🍨 anon #ask.txt

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forallthepjostuff · 2 years

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Hey! I've noticed you reblogging chapters one and two of my Covered in Storms, Surrounded by Eyes fic! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it, but I wanted to let you know that I am in the process of rewriting it on ao3. There's the link, I'd appreciate it if you checked it out, because I think my writing has improved in terms of characterization and pretty much all around. Again, tysm for taking interest in this fic, it's one of my favorites and I'm excited for the directions it will take in the future.

Hi!

It's already in my bookmarks on ao3 😅 I came across it on there first, and then got excited when I saw that it was a rewrite and that the first few chapters from before you rewrote it were still up, because I love seeing how people's writing style develop and gets more unique over time. I've never seen a fic like it, I've seen ones where another god or goddess claims Percy, but never one where that goddess is Kymopoleia, and I'm really excited to see where it goes.

Also, I like all the ocs you're adding to it. I know liking someone adding ocs in a fanfiction might not be the most popular thing in the world, but you're doing it in a way that adds to the story; to me it's really making Camp Half-Blood seem like a more grounded place, like it's real, with real people who have real personalities, instead of just a setting with extras, which is how I've felt a lot while reading fanfiction.

I might not be 100% explaining this correctly, but it kind of reminds me of how in my small town (3,000 people), everyone knows everyone else's stories, either by hearing it themselves or through whispered gossip. And how sometimes they're nice, but can flip on you in a second if something they perceive as the wrong information comes to light.

Also, I really love how everyone's mentioning stuff that, as the reader, you have no idea about. Because we're going on that learning curve with Percy and finding these things out at the same time as him, it reminds me of how when you're young in a family and no one tells you any family drama stories, because they see no need to or you were too young and nobody mentions it anymore, so once in a while they kinda just offhandedly make a comment about the craziest batshit stories and it's up to you to just go 'hey a crumb of context please?'

So, yeah. I'm really, really interested in seeing the direction it goes in.

#it's a good thing i decided to check my email #because i was practically so deep in your tumblr page that i 100% would've and have before kept looking through it all night #/joke. but also not really #seriously though i'm really excited to see what you decide to do with it because i really love it #tbh it's probably already up there with fishing in alaska by caffeinatedflumadiddle as one of my favorite pjo stories #also sorry for just kind of rambling here but i really am excited to about this story #i know this kind of became jumbled nonsense near the end but that's because this is a great story #and trying to put all my thoughts about it into words isn't working bc my thoughts are kind of just jumbled nonsense too right now #my brain's literally working too fast for words when it comes to everything i like about this story--the one on here and the rewrite on ao3 #because i feel like the one on here focuses more on the ocs development but that the rewrite definitely focuses more on the plot #love the more detail and plot centered writing on there by the way #it gives the story more depth and explains the situations better while still having the character development #and still having that sense of drilling 'these big three kids are dangerous and that's why we're afraid of them' into your head #while also making you realize why all the campers are so biased against big three kids and hate them but also panic at the thought of them #i absolutely have more that i can't think of right now because i type so slow i lose the thought before i can make it into words #...bet when you sent this ask you didn't expect to get a fucking behemoth that took an hour and a half to type did you #hope you like it anyway #also i recently experienced a moment like the one in the last paragraph #where my niece (six years younger than me) was complaining about how there's no drama in our family & i got to go 'oh? haven't you heard?'#it was really fun actually #and satisfying to do after being on the recieving end for so many years

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prince-simon · 2 years

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Is there a reason why wille and simon had their "what do you like in bed" talk rather late in the story even though it's quite a very important thing?

i mean in the grand scheme of things it's actually not that late in the timeline of their relationship. like sure, it's like idk some 100k into the story but actually if you look at their relationship it's like pretty early on. they had the festival and then when simon came to sweden for their first date (and then when carl and edvin are born) where they'd been having sex in person and then the next time wille goes to spain, they have the talk. between the festival and the talk are only about four months. if i look at my own (long distance) relationship, they're definitely a lot earlier than when me and my partner had that talk

so yeah, i agree that it's absolutely super important, and i agree that it seems late bc of the massive word count but it really wasn't. i mean obviously maybe you still consider that late but just from my own experience, you probably don't get into the super kinky stuff right off the bat anyway and i think the talk they had also definitely wasn't the last talk they had about this bc these things do change and/or you get more comfortable with your partner and might admit that there are things you do like that you previously said you wouldn't and all that

#prince simon au #young royals #this was such a good ask!#i'm sorry i'm probably rambling so much in my reply lol #i hope i'm making sense haha #really loving all these asks today #ask #anon

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letstrip13 · 29 days

Text

🍋 - teach me

reader x matt

based on this request

summary: you're inexperienced, so you turn to your best friend, matt, to teach you a thing or two.

warnings: smut, oral m!receiving

word count: 1,791

author's note: sorry that this took so long to put out. my idea of writing a lot and scheduling posts didn't work out the way i wanted to. also, thank you to the person who sent this (my very first) request in!! i hope you like it :) keep sending more requests, i love getting them!!

------------------------୨୧------------------------

matt wraps his arm around your shoulders as you two settle down to watch a movie in your bedroom. you had invited him over for a sleepover, but it wasn't just to hang out. you had something to ask him that you had been thinking about for a while.

as he gets under the blankets with you, he senses your nervousness and glances over at you, a soft look in his eyes. “are you okay? you've been way quieter than usual,” he asks in a gentle tone. “yeah, i'm fine.” you pause before deciding to ask him the question that's been on your mind, thinking there may not be a better time. “there's just something i've been wanting to ask you.. sort of like a favour. you can say no if you're uncomfortable with it.. it's kind of a lot to ask. i just don't want things to get weird,” you nervously ramble on.

matt gives you a look of curiosity, clearly intrigued by what you're so nervous about. he takes your hand, his thumb softly tracing circles on the back of it. “it's okay, you can ask me anything.” “if you don't want to do this, just forget i asked, okay?” he nods and you take a deep breath before starting.

“you know how i've never really been with a guy, right?” he slowly nods, wondering where you could be going with this. you decide to just be upfront and say exactly what you want. “i want you to teach me how to give a guy head.” his eyes widen in surprise but he quickly recovers the soft smile that was on his face before. “oh yeah, i can definitely teach you. it's not a big deal. so, you just want me to explain it to you right?”

you hesitate for a moment. “no, matt.. i mean i want to practice on you. tell me what I'm supposed to do and i'll do it.” the slow circles matt was tracing on the back of your hand stop suddenly and he leans against the headboard, carefully considering what you said. he glances down at your lips, almost as if he's imagining how they would feel wrapped around his cock.

after what seems like forever, he finally speaks, “are you sure? i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with.” you nod. “i'm sure. i always wanted my first time doing something like this to be with someone i care about and trust. it almost makes sense that it's you, i trust you more than anyone.” he smiles softly at your words, his heart warming at the fact that you're trusting him to be your first with an experience like this. he leans in close and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “alright, we'll take it slow and make sure you're comfortable. we can stop at any point if you need to.” “okay. thanks for agreeing to this. honestly, i didn't think you would.”

you move a little bit closer to matt. “what do i do first?” he clears his throat slightly. “first, you need to get me hard. we can do that by making out.” his hands hover over your hips. “can i?” you nod and he grabs your hips, moving you so you're straddling his lap. your breath hitches in your throat as you look down at him from this new position.

you slowly lean in, capturing his lips in a sweet, slow, gentle kiss to start off. matt's hands move up your back and into your hair, tangling in the strands as he deepens the kiss. he takes the lead and expertly slips his tongue into your mouth. you follow what he's doing, slipping your tongue into his mouth. when he pulls on your hair, it causes you to squirm a little and you accidentally grind down into his lap. a small groan escapes his lips. you repeat the action, knowing it feels good for him. his hips jerk up, pressing his hardening cock against you through your clothes. he groans into the kiss again, his hands sliding down, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “fuck,” he mumbles.

you stifle a gasp against his lips. you pull away from each other breathlessly and look into each other's eyes, almost as if you're realizing what you're really doing. without a moment's hesitation, you kiss him again, more passionately this time. you slowly roll your hips against his, getting him even harder. matt pushes you down while simultaneously bucking his hips up. he deepens the kiss while you grind against each other. you gain a little confidence and start kissing his jawline and neck, your hip movements not slowing down in the slightest. you eventually pull away, looking into his eyes as you move to grind against him one last time. “now what?” you whisper.

matt's breathing is ragged as he looks into your eyes. he swallows hard, trying to regain any composure and figure out what to say. “uhhh.. you can take off my pants if you're ready.” you nod and get off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him. you unbutton and unzip his jeans. he lifts your hips to help you out as you tug them down just enough so you have access to his boxers. you're still a little nervous so you don't pull them down quite yet, instead, gently touching the fabric covered bulge. his breath hitches as his hard cock throbs against the fabric at your touch. he watches as your hand explores him and he gives you an encouraging nod, signaling to you to continue whenever you're ready.

you slowly pull his boxers down until his cock springs free against his stomach. you part your lips as if you're about to say something but no words come out. it's bigger than you had expected. matt notices the look on your face and gives you a reassuring smile. “take your time, sweetheart. when you're ready, just spit on the tip. then wrap your hand around it and move it up and dow-”

you immediately do what he says, spitting on the tip and watching it trickle down the shaft for a second while his hips jerk at the warm sensation, a soft groan escaping his lips. you wrap your hand around him where the spit fell and you start slowly pumping it up and down, spreading your saliva around. he moans as he unintentionally thrusts up into your hand. “that's it, baby.. you're doing great.” you look into his eyes as you keep going. “what do i do now?”

matt bites his bottom lip, trying to focus on your question through the pleasure you're giving him. “now, you can try taking the tip in your mouth,” he pants out softly. you keep your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft while giving the tip a shy, little lick while looking into his eyes. he gives you a small nod of approval, so you continue teasing him with licks as you get used to the taste of him. once you gain some confidence, you swirl your tongue around the tip and start sucking on it a little as well. his breath catches in his throat and his hips jerk up involuntarily. “fuck yes, just like that,” he groans, “you're doing so good.”

you stop sucking on his tip after about a minute. you pause and look up at him. “do i just keep doing the same thing but further down?” matt nods, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “yeah.. just keep going like that. but when you can't take any more in your mouth, start stroking it with your hand like you were doing before.” you nod as you listen to him speak before doing exactly what he says. you take a few inches into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length slowly while working the rest of him with your hand.

he groans out in pleasure while his fingers tangle in your hair, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail. “fuck- you're so good at this already,” he mumbles as his hips jerk up again, forcing you to take him deeper in your mouth. you gag on his cock a bit as he unintentionally pushes your head down, pulling back a little. “sorry, didn't mean to do that,” he whispers while stroking your hair softly. you keep going, his moans encouraging you and telling you that you're making him feel good.

you soon realize that the more of matt's cock you have in your mouth, the better it feels for him so you try to take him as deep as you can every time you move your head down. you can feel the tip hitting the back of your throat and the sensation makes your eyes water. the tears mix with the mascara on your bottom lashes as they spill down your cheeks.

matt pants heavily, his eyes closing tightly as he feels his impending orgasm. “shit.. baby, i'm close,” he murmurs, tugging on your hair. when he tells you this, you take his cock as deep down your throat as you can. you feel it twitch in your mouth and you know he's going to cum any second now. his hips jerk up almost violently, pushing his cock deep into your throat as he cums. his hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place while he fills your mouth, shooting his load down your throat with a loud moan. you pull back, keeping your lips wrapped around the tip as you swallow the cum filling your mouth.

you pull away once you've swallowed every last drop that he can give you, his cock leaving your mouth with a soft, wet pop. you wipe the side of your mouth while looking up at him. “did i do good?” matt tries to catch his breath, his eyes remaining locked on yours. “fuck.. yeah, you did amazing,” he whispers, still a bit dazed from the experience.

you sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you wipe away any remaining tears on your cheeks. “thank you for teaching me. that was even better than i thought it would be.” matt tucks his now flaccid dick into his boxers and zips his jeans back up. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “no problem. you can practice on me any time you want.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head. you pull the blanket up over your legs and you start the movie you were going to watch earlier. you cuddle up next to him while you watch the movie and you eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

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part 2

#matt x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo oneshot

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danzafila · 2 years

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Might be too meta-level for the discussion you're having with the other nonny. But I think She-Hulk: Sensational is post-Alias purely because it would be a bit rude for Reed to retcon in a story about Carol making a best friend out of an old acquaintance before the earlier one by the previous writer. Yeah the previous one involved a retconned acquaintance too, but I don't think retconning in an acquaintance is anywhere near as bad as retconning in a best friend.

nah I think that's a totally fair consideration to include when trying to figure out the chronology!

the whole "you know Carol? I know Carol." line does sound more like something a casual acquaintance would say (realizing they have a mutual connection) than something someone who considers Carol a best friend would (realizing Carol has another best friend she never heard of). so now you've got me thinking you're probably right it fits in better after Alias.

the more I think about it, the more I think having JD instead of JJ appear in Ms. Marvel v2 probably was initially an editorial mistake. but fans liked it so much that they committed to it. and then She-Hulk: Sensational offered Reed the opportunity to retcon where their relationship came from.

#(i'm sorry jones. jess's costume just looked way better paired up with carol's ofc the fans were gonna prefer them lmao)#so i re-read her appearance in alias and 1) goddd do i hate alias's writing lmao (this is why i didn't reread it for the previous asks...)#but 2) jess says she just got back to the us in it. so even though her popping back up in madripoor was written before SWv3...#...i think alias retconned those events to being swapped? makes more sense that way at least?? idkl #orrr just implying jess was constantly hoping back and forth between the us and madripoor during her wonky powers era???#(bc she'd also been back even earlier to meet julia...)#god. comics book continuity really is A MESS huh #domande #anonimo #sto parlando #jess meta #ramblings about comix

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

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steddiealltheway · 9 months

Text

"Steve! You've got to help me. I panicked, and I told my Tinder date that you and Eddie have been dating for two years!" Robin yells as she storms into their living room.

Luckily, Steve's gotten used to her entering their apartment in such a way over the past few years, but he barely registers what she says in her haste. He takes a moment to stare at her with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion, hoping the words will eventually make sense.

They don’t.

"What?"

Robin paces back and forth while gesturing wildly with her hands. "You know how I do the thing where I ramble around girls I find really really hot? Well, I was doing that, and I brought you up and kept going on about how annoying my roommate is-"

"Are you kidding m-"

Robin continues as if she didn't just insult him. "And she kind of stopped and look at me and said, 'Your roommate is a guy?' And I got confused and said yes because why would I lie? And she got all uncomfortable and started asking more questions like if you were gay or straight, and I told her you were bi, and she got even weirder! So, eventually I just straight up asked her what was wrong, and she said that she didn't want to go out with me if my roommate was potentially into me. So I told her that wasn't a problem because you've been dating Eddie for two years." She finishes with that awkward lip bite she does which can be oddly endearing sometimes. But it’s not this time.

Steve leans forward on the couch. "I'm sorry. You still want to go out with a girl who has no trust in my ability to keep things in my pants? As if she doesn't trust that you're a lesbian and if I ever made a move on you, you would absolutely punch me in the throat."

Robin sits next to him and grabs his hands. "She's so so hot, Steve. Please."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, you can keep telling her that I’m dating Eddie, I guess."

Robin breaks eye contact and starts picking at her nail polish.

Well, that’s not a great sign. "What aren't you telling me?"

Robin slowly looks at him in the way a dog looks at their owner after destroying their favorite shoes. "Okay, so then I really got a bit crazy, and when she asked me to show me pictures of you two together, I dropped my phone in my glass of water." She slowly pulls out her phone, and sure enough, it won't even turn on.

Steve digs the heels of his hands into his eyes before grabbing her phone and stalking off to the kitchen to find rice and a bowl. Robin follows after him.

"So, all I need to do is take a few pictures of you guys looking really coupley on dates and whatnot and make it look like they range over the past two years. I also told Veronica that I would let her meet you two sometime soon,” She rushes in to add the second thing before Steve can really process the first one. She just smiles, trying to look all sweet and endearing.

Steve gives Robin the best bitchy glare he has, but she shoots him one back and counters by saying, "You owe me, and you know it."

"For what?" Steve asks as he pours rice over her phone.

Robin crosses her arms. "Three weeks ago, you kicked me out of the apartment without warning to have sex with some random girl, and I was left stranded for the night."

Steve scoffs, "You went to Nancy's and slept in her very nice guest bedroom!"

"You owe me!"

Steve puts the bag of rice down and sighs. "Fine, but if Eddie doesn't agree, then I'm out."

Robin smiles. "Deal."

Steve hates how confident she is about the whole thing, so he calls Eddie and puts him on speaker. When he answers, Steve immediately says, "Hey, Eddie, you're on speaker with me and Robin, and she has a very ridiculous request for you. I'll let her tell you the details."

After Robin recounts her night and Steve tries not to rant about how much of a bad vibe he gets from the girl, Eddie pauses for a bit to take it all in. Then, he says, "Robin, I really don't like this Veronica girl."

"She's hot!" Robin retorts.

Eddie snorts on the other line. "I'm in if Steve's in."

Steve's jaw drops. Robin shoots him a big smile. "Perfect! What if we started on pictures early tomorrow? I've got a lot of random dates to prepare you guys for."

Steve interrupts before Eddie can answer. "And why can't you show her like... three pictures of us cuddling on the couch?"

"We need to cover our tracks as much as we can and cuddling on the couch a few times won’t do. Oh, we should hang a few pictures of you two around the apartment!" Robin plots excitedly.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. He can't believe he's doing this. They don’t even have pictures hanging up.

"Tomorrow works for me," Eddie says, entirely oblivious to Steve’s internal struggle.

But Steve can't help but get a little excited at the thought of seeing Eddie and spending a whole day with him.

So, he sucks it up and says, "I'm free, too. And I'm excited to see you, Eddie. I've missed you."

"I saw you yesterday," Eddie laughs on the other line.

Steve blushes and argues, "Seeing you for a minute when I get my coffee doesn't count."

"Whatever you say, pumpkin bread."

Pumpkin bread? Steve scrunches up his nose in protest. “That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.”

"Just practicing for when we meet this Veronica girl, my peach."

Steve can’t help but laugh. "We are not that kind of couple. But I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams, rubber ducky."

Eddie laughs loudly on the other line and muffles the sound probably with his hand.

Steve bites his lip, trying not to get too pleased at causing that reaction.

"Good night, sweetheart." The line beeps three times as the call ends, and Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face. Sweetheart... he kind of likes that one.

"Glad to see you two get into your roles," Robin says with a smirk.

Steve jumps back, having forgotten she was there. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” With that, he quickly rushes off to his room before Robin can say anything else about the interaction.

"Goodnight, dingus!" she calls after him joyously.

This all better be worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve can't help but get a little nervous when Eddie sends him an "Almost there!" text. He has a feeling this whole thing is going to blow up in their faces or something.

He's always known that Eddie's been cute. Hell, the first time he saw him, Steve thought he was hot. But he had never thought of them together after that. Sure, there was definitely a certain chemistry between them, but for some reason, Steve always saw him as off-limits. Especially since Dustin would kill him if he ever broke Eddie's heart.

So, Steve learned to push down any feelings he's had for him over the years. And he's afraid that all those repressed feelings are going to come up today.

There's a knock on his and Robin's apartment door, and Steve freezes. Hopefully his and Eddie’s friendship will survive whatever happens next.

Here goes nothing.

He opens the door to find a curly head of hair in front of him that isn't Eddie's.

"Nancy?"

"Hi! I'm here to take pictures today," she explains as she walks through the door, wiggling her Canon camera in her hand. "I thought Robin told you."

"She certainly did not," Steve says and pinches his nose. He might kill her. He pushes the door shut, but it stops.

"Hey," Eddie says peaking his head out from behind the door and catching Steve’s eye quickly. "Sorry, I'm late," he apologizes as he pulls Steve into a tight hug.

Steve lingers in it, squeezing Eddie tightly, smelling the lavender shampoo he uses, and trying to make the moment last as long as he can.

The sound of a camera shutter snaps him out of the moment.

He pulls back and looks at Nancy.

"Taking some candid pictures," she says unapologetically.

But Steve doesn't care too much when he feels Eddie's hand linger on his back. "You're taking pictures for us? What happened to Robin?"

"Yes, what did happen to Robin?" Steve asks raising his voice so she'll hear him.

"Coming!" she yells then comes out of her room looking very strangely put together. Steve glances down at her wrist and notices her wearing her lucky black bracelet. When did she start wearing that again?

"You look nice," Nancy says with a soft smile.

"Thanks," Robin replies with a soft blush.

Steve is definitely missing something, but he can't pay attention when Eddie is gently rubbing his back. He's going to end up dying on the spot.

"Eddie!" Robin says, finally noticing him, "I see you brought the extra clothes."

Steve glances down to where Eddie's suitcase sits on the floor. He does not remember him bringing that in. Shit, he's so distracted by his presence. Wait. "Why did you bring extra clothes?" he asks Eddie then notices how close they're standing. Oh, hello, Eddie's very soft-looking lips.

"I told you we're covering two years. That means different seasons," Robin says as if the answer is obvious.

Hell no. "There's no way in hell I'm wearing cold clothes outside in the heat."

"Good thing I planned for us to stay in for those pictures," Nancy says with a smile on her face. "Now go change into one of your sweaters or something. Oh! Eddie, you should change with him so you two can color coordinate. It'll be so cute!"

Steve adds Nancy to the list of people he might murder.

Eddie's hand drops from his back as he wheels the suitcase into Steve's room. Steve follows and closes the door behind him.

"Sorry for all this," Steve says, glancing around to make sure nothing embarrassing is laying out.

Eddie shakes his head and brushes it off as if it's nothing, "Nah, it's all good. I think it could be fun if we let it. Color coordinating is a horrible idea though."

"Agreed," Steve replies, deciding that his room looks fine. He opens up his closet and pushes his short sleeve clothes to the side to try to get to his sweaters hanging in the back. "What are you thinking for clothes?"

"I don't care as long as you wear your yellow sweater for one of the pictures."

Steve snorts. For some reason, Eddie had such an attachment to the thing. One time, he mistakenly put it in his designated donation bin, and he thought Eddie was going to cry when he found it.

He had cradled the thing to his chest and dramatically said, "You don't understand, Steve. Some people's lives depend on you wearing this sweater. Their lives, Steve."

Steve had rolled his eyes, put it back on a hanger, and hung it with the other sweaters. "Better?" he asked.

"Much better."

And the whole thing had been worth it to see the smile on Eddie's face - especially when Steve decided to surprise him by wearing it to the coffee shop the next day.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Eddie asks with a smile, suddenly very close to him.

Steve shakes his head as if shaking away the memory. "Nothing."

Eddie raises an eyebrow but he doesn't push it before he goes back to his suitcase and starts laying out his clothes on Steve's bed.

Steve strips off his shirt and pulls the sweater over his head. He glances down at his jeans and decides that Veronica probably won't remember what pants he was wearing in each picture.

He turns to tell Eddie as much but freezes when he sees Eddie shirtless, sorting through the clothes to find the perfect assortment of layers. Steve swallows and adverts his eyes. He is not going to check him out while he's changing. He clears his throat and turns back to his closet. "I think we just need to change our shirts. Maybe outside, you can start with a base layer then add on top of that."

Steve doesn't think he can stand to see shirtless Eddie with all his tattoos out in the daylight or the moonlight - if it takes that long. And he certainly does not want to let anyone else see that either.

"That's smart, babe."

Steve's hand squeezes whatever poor shirt he was grabbing a little too tight at the nickname. He's never been one for nicknames, especially over-the-top ones, but knowing it's Eddie calling him that as if he really does love him... it really does something for Steve.

He doesn't reply as he grabs a few shirts and jackets and lays them out on the bed next to Eddie's stuff.

He glances up at Eddie and almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that he has a shirt on. And a flannel. And his leather jacket. Thank goodness for layers.

He looks back at Eddie's face and catches the exact moment that Eddie registers him wearing the yellow sweater. His eyes fill with unhinged excitement and joy. He walks right into Steve's space and leans down - oh my god - to talk to the sweater.

"I've missed you so much. You know, it's so unfair that Steve only gets to wear you for a small part of the year. And he doesn't own anything short-sleeved in your beautiful color it seems."

Steve puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the ceiling. He can't believe he's ever had trouble pushing down feelings for this man.

(But he makes a note to himself to buy more things in yellow just for him.)

There’s a loud knocking on the door, then Robin yells, “You two have been in there for a while! Everything okay?”

“Eddie is talking to my sweater again!” Steve calls back.

There’s a pause before Nancy says, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you right. What?”

“I’m talking to his sweater! Be out soon!” Eddie yells.

There’s some mumbling outside the door as Steve finally looks down at Eddie and asks, “Are you done?”

Eddie smiles up at him. “Never.”

But he straightens up and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder before he turns to leave the room. “That was for the sweater, not you,” Eddie clarifies.

“Right,” Steve replies. Because that makes so much sense.

Today is going to kill him.

Part two ;)

(This was meant to just be a ficlet for my dear friend @henderdads , and then it turned into a six-part fic. I hope you enjoy!! ((Especially you, Cass)) AO3 Link here!)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie fanfic #stranger things

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