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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 1 year

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The Bond

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Relationship: Neteyam x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

Summary: The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced.

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Major character death. Angst. Pregnancy. ATWOW spoilers.

Comments: Hockey people look away, look away… After watching ATWOW I physically could not stop thinking about ‘what if you could feel the bond’ the way Parabatai feel each other in the Mortal Instruments and one thing led to another… This really was supposed to just be a short little imagine just to get the idea out of my head so I could work on my other projects but then I went hmmm no I think this needs some context for it to make sense and then I proceeded to write their entire fucking story cradle to grave and spent WAY too much time fact checking every single detail… There were a bunch of ways I could have expanded this, but I told myself no because no one needs a 50k+ Neteyam story... Also, this was not betad because I was not about to subject my poor beta to my current Avatar obsession.

Disclaimer: I thought Neteyam was 20 the whole movie so that’s how old he is in this, which is about the same age Jake and Neytiri were in the first film. And also, Neteyam wears a battle belt, which means he is seen as a man among the Omatikaya.

do not repost, do not claim as your own

Tsaheylu.

The bond.

The beginning and the end of everything.

You feel their breath, you feel their heart, you feel their strength. It’s your way to connect with the world around you. At least, that’s what they always told you.

It’s a beautiful thing the bond. You can ride and fly and see and hear without uttering a single word. And most beautiful of all, you get to feel your mate, if you were lucky enough to find one.

With a mate, it wasn’t just their breaths and heart you felt like a horse or an ikran. It was deeper, much deeper. You felt them. Their thoughts, their memories, the every ounce of their being. The bond ties you to them—to their soul—for life, connects you to them in a way you’d never be connected to anyone or anything for as long as you lived.

It’s a beautiful thing the bond.

You could remember the first time Neteyam brought up the possibility of mating.

The golden son, the next Olo’eykton, the first-born son of Toruk Makto and Neytiri, Neteyam always had big shoes to fill, and it was always something he struggled with in silence. Who was he to talk to about the shade of greatness he grew up in? His father? His mother? His little brother? None of them understood, and none of them saw him.

But you did.

For as long as you could remember, Neteyam had been your closest friend, and you his—outside of his siblings at least. Kiri wasn’t much younger than him, but she had always been closer with Lo’ak than him, and Neteyam had always had more of a protective, fatherly role than a brotherly one with them and Tuk especially.

But you? You held no expectations for him. With you he was just Neteyam—or ’Teyam when he made you laugh hard enough you could barely breathe. You did everything with him. Training, hunting, claiming a banshee. Every step, you were there, and there was no one you felt closer to than him.

You didn’t have a big family like he did, it was only you. But you had him. He was your best friend, your everything, your—

Neteyam was going to be the next Olo’eykton and whoever he took as his mate would be the next Tsahìk, so you knew it wasn’t a decision he took lightly. If his father wasn’t Jake Sully, you were sure he’d have been betrothed to a woman his parents deemed worthy of being the next Olo’eykton’s mate. You didn’t know if Eywa had her eyes on you at the decision not to betroth him because, on one hand, there was a chance he’d take you, but on the other, you knew him choosing another of his own will would break you irreversibly.

Neteyam had shown some interest in the other girls in the village, especially the ones his mother mentioned to him, but you never saw him have more than a few conversations with them, mostly about hunting, which they didn’t seem to appreciate as much as you did.

You didn’t know that they were never the one he wanted. That for him, there had only ever been one.

It was the eve of his iknimaya ceremony, the final step of him becoming taronyu, of becoming a man, that he first brought up the possibility of mating with you. Once he became a man, he could choose a woman.

The thought alone made your chest tight. You couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your tent before you finally resigned yourself and slipped out. A night walk in the forest would, at the very least, keep your mind occupied.

You should have known Neteyam had the same idea.

Becoming a hunter, becoming a man, becoming one of the People, and earning his place in the clan all weighed heavily on him. He lived in the shadow of his father who had gone from Sky People to one of the People to Toruk Makto to Olo’eykton in a span of a few months. He was only the sixth Toruk Makto since the first songs and Neteyam knew that even if he were to be a great Olo’eykton, he’d never be his father, and it ate at him.

No matter how hard he tried, Neteyam couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned but his mind fought his every attempt at sleep. He knew he needed sleep for the day ahead, but he wasn’t granted peace and finally he resigned himself to a walk to clear his mind. At the very least, the night would pass more quickly and bring him into tomorrow.

Neither of you realized the other was close, not at first. Your mind was so consumed by the thought of him that you weren’t looking where you were going and didn’t put the care into your steps like you knew you should. The snap of the twig under your step was secondary to you, but it made Neteyam’s ears twitch.

He wasn’t alone.

A moment later, another twig snapped under your foot and Neteyam let it consume his attention. All he had on him was his knife, but it would have to do, he was the best hunter of his age after all.

He followed your uncaring, twig breaking steps silently with his knife down, unsure of what he was following. But as soon as he caught a flash of blue skin in the dark, he let himself relax a little. When he stepped a little closer to get a clearer view, he sheathed his knife as he let out a soft laugh. He’d know you anywhere.

The sound of his laugh made your ears twitch and you tensed. You’d know that sound anywhere. “Neteyam?” You breathed as you turned around and a moment later, he revealed himself with his hands up and a playful smile on his lips as he said your name back to you.

“It is late,” he told you as he stepped closer, his tail flicking behind him. “You should be asleep.”

“As should you,” you replied and returned his smile. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ah,” he brushed you off with a short wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine,” he told you. “I do not have to hunt tomorrow, just become taronyu.”

Your smile slipped for half a moment before you pushed it back up. “I know,” you replied, hoping your tone didn’t betray you.

His ears straightened as he watched you and he hoped, oh Eywa he hoped, that he wasn’t misinterpreting your hesitation as he stepped closer to you. “Once I become taronyu, I may take a woman.”

You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes so you turned away from him. “I know,” you whispered. “It’s a big day for the clan. There are many fine women to choose from.”

His heart dropped, fearing rejection from the only woman he had ever wanted. “I know,” he said and let his tail brush yours as he stepped around you, forcing you to look at him.

You shivered at the touch but brushed it off as an accidental touch. “Your father is very fond of Miayho, and your mother favours Zia,” you told him softly, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’ve already chosen.” His words made your heart drop and you tried to turn away from him again, but he cupped your cheek to stop you. “But this woman must also choose me.”

“She must be lucky,” you whispered, your heart aching.

“She is,” Neteyam smiled. “She is strong and beautiful and a little slow at times, but she is the only one I could ever want.”

“’Teyam,” you breathed, your voice breaking, but his smile never faltered.

“I’m speaking of you,” he told you and softly shook his head. “Tomorrow I am granted the chance to choose a woman, and you are the only woman I have ever wanted. I choose you, if you choose me, too.”

You were quiet as the weight of his words sunk in, but slowly you cupped his cheek, too. “I chose you the moment I saw you,” you replied and rubbed your thumb over the deep blue line that traced the arch of his cheek.

Neteyam’s smile filled your chest with warmth and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. Neteyam’s smile softened as he rubbed his nose against yours. He’d mate you right here right now if you let him, but it was not the way, and a day was a short wait compared to the years he had already been waiting.

“So, it is decided, then?” He asked as he pulled back to look at you.

“It is,” you blushed and dipped your head as your ears went back, already itching to reach for your braid. At your words, Neteyam’s shoulders lightened, somewhat anyway. The weight of being the next Olo’eykton and living up to his father still plagued him, but he knew as long as he had you by his side, he’d be alright.

“We should sleep, then,” he told you and bit his lip. “I intent to mate you before Eywa tomorrow.”

Your blush darkened as you smiled. You didn’t dare ask if his mother or father approved of the match, you didn’t care, you just wanted him, needed him. “We should,” you agreed and tilted your chin up. “It is a big day tomorrow.”

Neteyam’s smile widened and he dipped his head. “A very big day,” he agreed and took your hand before he led you back to the village. The sooner you both fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come, and the sooner you could become one.

“You could stay with me,” you told him as you approached your tent.

There was nothing Neteyam wanted more, but he also knew his father would expect him in his own bed bright and early and he didn’t want to start the big day on the wrong foot. “Tomorrow night,” he replied and dipped his head. “Tonight will be our last night apart.”

You hated when he pulled his hand from yours, but you knew he was right, that it was the way. You had waited years for this, you could wait another night. “Tomorrow,” you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed you before he stepped back. Still, he watched as you slipped into your tent safe and secure before he made his way back to his own and prayed to Eywa his father hadn’t noticed his absence. Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Neteyam settled into his bed with a smile and warm chest.

Tomorrow he became taronyu.

Tomorrow he became a man.

Tomorrow he gained you.

His eyelids were heavy and sleep came more easily to him. One moment he was thinking of your beautiful golden eyes, the next he was passed out, dreaming of your smile and the comforting flowery scent that always clung to your hair.

The sun woke him bright and early like it always did and he smiled as he stretched out.

Today was the day.

“Are you nervous?” Lo’ak asked him over breakfast and Neteyam rolled his eyes.

“Why would I be nervous?”

Lo’ak’s shit eating grin widened as he shoved his brother’s shoulder, “that no woman will want to mate with your ugly face.”

Any other day Neteyam would have told his brother off and shoved him back, but your words were still fresh in his mind—I chose you the moment I saw you—and his ears went back as he dipped his head.

Lo’ak’s smile faltered as he moved closer, his ears perking up before he knocked his shoulder against his brother’s. “Bro,” he said under his breath so their parents wouldn’t hear. “Got something you’d like to share?”

Neteyam knocked his shoulder right back against his brother’s. He was quiet for a moment as he debated whether he should say anything, but Neteyam knew his brother well, better than anyone, and he knew Lo’ak wouldn’t stop pestering him until he spilled. “I may have already chosen a woman,” he said with a small smile. “And she has chosen me as well. We will be mated before Eywa.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak breathed and put his hand on the back of Neteyam’s neck as he gave him a little shake. “You asked her?” Neteyam didn’t have to say a name for him to know he meant you.

Neteyam dropped his head again as he nodded, “it is decided.”

“I am surprised she settled for your skxawng ass, but I am happy for you, bro,” Lo’ak grinned, and he laughed as Neteyam bared his fangs at him and shook him off.

“Watch who you call skxawng, skxawng,” he replied, making Lo’ak laugh hard enough that their father looked over at them and their ears went back as they quickly went quiet.

Jake watched his sons for a long moment before he stepped over and sat down next to Neteyam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, son?”

Neteyam smiled as he nodded, “born ready, sir.”

“Good,” Jake smiled and patted his son on the back. “Your mom has the paint, whenever you’re ready.”

Neteyam’s tail flicked behind him. “Actually, if it’s alright, there’s something else who I’d like to do the paint.”

For a moment Jake’s eyebrows raised as he looked at his son before the corner of his lip twitched up as he remembered when Neytiri painted him for his own iknimaya. “Of course,” Jake nodded. “But you have to tell your mother.”

His mother wasn’t exactly happy to give up the chance to paint her first born son ahead of the ceremony, but Neteyam rarely asked for anything and she could see in his eyes that it meant a great deal to him, so she resigned herself and handed the bowls of paint over to him. “I hope you chose well, my son,” Neytiri told him.

“I did,” Neteyam replied with a smile. “Thank you, mother.”

The bowls were full and despite their small size, they felt heavy in his hands as he headed out to find you. Neteyam knew both you and the village like the back of his hand so it was easy for him to find you. you blushed as he met your gaze and he smiled before he lowered his head to you and he sat down across from you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” You asked him softly, buzzing with anticipation of what was to come.

“I should, yes,” he agreed and sat the bowls of paint down in front of you.

“Neteyam,” you breathed. It was traditionally done by mothers.

“I want you to,” he smiled. “That is, if you want to, too.”

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “I want to,” you smiled softly and moved the bowls closer to you, the weight of their significance not lost on you as you beckoned him closer. “Now?” You asked softly.

Neteyam nodded as he moved closer. You blushed when he ginned at you shoved his shoulder before dipping your fingers into the white paint. You started with his arm, your touch light as you traced familiar patterns over his skin. Neteyam shivered, both at the coolness of the paint and your touch and it made you blush deepen as you focused on your lines, not wanting to mess any of them up, especially when you felt the weight of his gaze on you.

After his arms, you moved on to his chest and you gave Neteyam a look when the corner of his lip twitched up. “I am well aware you are a mighty warrior, Neteyam,” you told him and pulled your fingers back so you wouldn’t ruin the lines.

“But now you feel that I am a mighty warrior,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

You were quiet for a moment as you tried to think of a reply. Slowly, you trailed your fingers down his abdomen and let your lip twitch up when you felt him tense at your touch. “I do,” you hummed and looked up at him. “And soon I will feel all of you.”

You bit your lip as Neteyam’s eyes darkened but you devoted your attention to finishing the lines on his abdomen before you picked up one of the bowls and moved to his back, giggling as Neteyam’s tail kept flicking as you traced the patterns on his skin and once you were done, you hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck and giggled when his ears stood straight up.

“You are a tease, woman,” he breathed as you settled back in front of him to paint his face.

“Am not,” you replied with a smile as you dipped your fingers into the paint again. “Now stay still.” To his benefit, Neteyam was still as he watched you, his tail flicking every now and then as you traced careful lines over his face, finishing with a feather light touch over his lips.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you looked him over. “You are ready,” you told him as you sat back on your haunches.

“I am?” He asked and you nodded.

“You are.”

Neteyam knew kissing you would ruin the paint you worked so hard to get perfect, but he still thought about it and it took every ounce of his self control not to kiss you. “Thank you,” he smiled before he stood and your heart fluttered in your chest as you took him in.

Your best friend. Your lover. Your mate.

A man.

You took his hand when he extended it to you and let him lead you down to where the ceremony would take place. To no surprise, his parents, siblings, and grandmother were already there and when you met his mother’s gaze, you get go of his hand. You weren’t mates yet and this was his ceremony. A ceremony for the clan.

At the loss of your hand, Neteyam looked back at you but you gave him a reassuring smile as you encouraged him on with a nod so he returned his gaze to his parents. Slowly the rest of the clan emerged and began to form the circle around him, and you.

“Neteyam,” Jake started as he looked at his son, trying and failing to restrain his smile. “My son. You tamed an ikran and completed your dream hunt. You are one of the People now,” he said before putting his hands on Neteyam’s shoulders just like Eytukan had done to him many years before. Once Jake touched Neteyam, the rest of his family and then the clan followed suit, one by one until everyone was connected as they welcomed Neteyam into the clan as a man.

You smiled at him as the people began to separate and once he could, Neteyam turned and put his hand on your shoulder, making you blush. His parents weren’t oblivious as they watched you, and Jake gave Neytiri a knowing smile as he held his hand out to her. It felt like just yesterday that she had done the same to him and he was happy for his son. He chose well, just like he did.

Every time a member of the clan came of age, there was a celebration. It was filled with food and dance and stories and songs; and Neteyam spent the whole night looking at you.

He was seated between his father, the Olo’eykton, and Lo’ak, and you were across from him, much too far for his liking. He could hear the people telling stories, but he wasn’t listening as he focused on you. You were the only thing that mattered to him.

You had put flowers in your hair and you wore a top he didn’t recognize so it had to be new and Neteyam couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were his everything.

It was only once the sun began to dip in the sky and people returned to their tents that Neteyam was able to steal some much needed alone time with you.

Neteyam washed the paint off and put his newly earned battle belt on by himself, but Jake stuck around with a gut instinct and gave his son a nod before he put his hand on his shoulder. Neteyam didn’t have to tell him for him to know he intended to take a mate, he remembered his own youth well and he could only hope his son found the same happiness he found in Neytiri.

Neteyam nodded back to his father, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure, son?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded.

“More sure than I have ever been.”

“Good,” Jake nodded and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

It was Neteyam’s turn to laugh and he shrugged his father’s hand off, dipping his head to his father one final time before he slipped out to find you. He was a man now, and you were his to claim.

Neteyam held his hand out to you and you blushed as you took it and let him guide you toward the Tree of Souls. If you were to be mated, then you were going to do it properly and you would be mated before Eywa.

It was only you and Neteyam before the tree and your heart raced with anticipation. By the time you got before the tree, before Eywa, you were a couple steps ahead of Neteyam and your ears twitched with every step he took to close the distance between you. Your tail flicked as he shifted his weight and it took him way too long to touch you, his hand just barely brushing your back to make you look at him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said softly, giving you an out. But you didn’t want an out.

“I want to,” you told him, holding his eyes before you slowly lowered yourself to your knees, your heart racing. This was the moment you had been waiting for your whole life, with the person you had been hoping for.

Neteyam followed your lead and knelt across from you before he pulled his braid over his shoulder. You held his gaze as you did the same, your braid heavy in your hand. You had made the bond with horses and your ikran, but taking a mate was something else entirely. Your heart raced with excitement and anxiety as you gripped the end of your braid and held it up, your tendrils searching for his.

You held Neteyam’s gaze as he gripped the end of his own braid and held it out. You let your eyes drop to your braid as he brought his closer. He paused to give you a chance to pull back, and when you didn’t, he moved his braid closer, letting his tendrils intertwine with yours.

It was unlike anything you had every experienced before.

The air left you lungs and you closed your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. His touch felt like electricity as he trailed his hands up your arms. And then you were overcome with warmth and familiarity and comfort. Home, you realized. You felt at home. You pulled back to look at him, your jaw slack and pupils blown and you found Neteyam looking back at you with the same awestruck expression. Warmth and pleasure coursed through your veins and when he cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch.

And then he kissed you. For as long as you could remember, you dreamt of the touch of your mate, but it was so much better than you could have imagined and you melted into the kiss as you rested your hands on his shoulders and moved closer.

Neteyam’s hands trailed down to your hips and you let him pull you onto his lap, both of you desperate for every touch you could steal. You pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath as you struggled to keep air in your lungs, your pull to Neteyam so strong. Your jaw was slack as you looked at him and you were sure your pupils were as blown as his were.

“Neteyam,” you breathed and rubbed your nose against his, craving his touch.

“I know, my name,” he breathed and rubbed his nose back against yours as he let you feel him through his loin cloth. It pulled a soft moan from your lips which he quickly quieted with another kiss.

“I need you,” he said against your lips and let his hand brush the top of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was, and he was rewarded with you rocking your hips into his.

“I need you, too,” you told him and pulled back so you could run your hand down his strong chest to his newly earned warrior’s belt. It wasn’t something you had ever put on let alone taken off, so Neteyam had to help you rid himself of it so you could once again trail your fingers down his abdomen and down to the top of his loin cloth.

Neteyam’s soft groan had heat pooling between your thighs and you were sure he could feel it. “’Teyam,” you whispered and covered his hand on your hip with your own. His golden eyes were dark as he looked at you and you slowly guided his hand up to your chest, needing him to touch you.

Neteyam had seen your chest more times than he’d care to admit, the necklace and beads provided little coverage, but seeing you and feeling you were two entirely different things. Your skin was warm and soft beneath his touch, but your nipples were hard and when he caught it between his fingers, he was rewarded with a soft moan from you, which he desperately wanted to hear again.

He licked his lips as he brought his hand up to your other breast. His hands dwarfed you, and you moaned and leaned into him as he pinched your nipples, learning exactly what you liked, what you needed.

“’Teyam,” you whined and rocked your hips into his once again. His touch wasn’t enough, you could feel him and you needed him. “My mate,” you whispered and trailed your hands down his back.

“I know,” he nodded. You didn’t have to tell him for him to know. He gave a final tweak to your nipples before trailing his hands down your sides to the band of your loin cloth. He kept his eyes on yours as he undid it and slowly peeled the material away from you. it only made your racing heart more intense as you rested on his lap, and your tail brushed his knees as he looked at you before he laid you back against the soft moss.

You were bare to him, but you didn’t care as he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Neteyam ran his eyes over you before he reached down to untie his own loin cloth, and then there was nothing between you.

“Please, ‘Teyam.”

He nodded and ran his hand up your thigh toward where you needed him most. As soon as his thumb reached the seam of where your thigh met your hip, Neteyam could feel how badly you needed him, your wetness coating your skin, pulling a soft groan from him.

When he finally touched you, his touch was light and you let your eyes close as you moaned softly. He was gentle as he trailed his fingers up your slit to the bud at the top and he was rewarded with a loud gasp when he rubbed your clit. He watched you with careful eyes as he circled the bud with his fingers and felt how you throbbed for him.

The tips of his fingers were rough from his years of hunting, and between the roughness and sureness of his touch, you wouldn’t last long. Your high was building fast and when you opened your eyes and found his familiar golden eyes looking back at you, it sent you over the edge.

“Neteyam,” you moaned as you came, your back arching as you pressed your hips into his hand. Neteyam groaned as you drenched his hand and he kept rubbing your clit through it, loving your blissed out expression. It was only when your moans turned to whines that he trailed his fingers down your slit to your entrance.

“May I?” He asked and you nodded quickly so he pressed his finger into you, moaning at how warm and tight you were. His mate, he thought. His perfect mate.

Once you adjusted to his finger, he added a second, not wanting to hurt you. He felt your every flutter around his fingers and it made his cock ache. “I need you,” he told you, his voice rough from holding himself back.

“Then have me,” you replied and spread your legs wider, desperate for your mate.

“Eywa have mercy,” he whispered and pulled his fingers from you before slotting himself between your thighs. He didn’t have to ask, he could feel your need, and he held your gaze as he guided himself to your entrance.

You gasped as he pressed into you and he rested his forehead against yours until his hips were touching yours. “My mate,” he breathed as you ran your hands down his back, and when you wrapped your legs around his hips, you felt his tail brush your ankle. Neteyam’s breaths were shallow as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, both of you needing a moment to adjust.

You were finally tied together the way you always should have been.

Together.

Connected.

One.

“’Teyam,” you breathed once you had adjusted and you cupped the back of his head.

He knew exactly what you needed and he nodded as he pulled halfway out before thrusting back into you and started a slow rhythm, soaking in every feeling of you. You had never felt so connected to someone and you melted at his touch, unsure of where you ended and he began.

His movements were slow but sure and you were consumed with the feel and smell of him. He filled you in a way you didn’t know you could be filled and you could feel yourself get closer and closer to that high with his every movement.

It wasn’t long until your moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his shoulders as your tail thrashed against the moss. When you came, your veins were filled with warmth, a warmth that only Neteyam could feel as his hips stuttered. The feeling of his mate cumming around him was indescribable and it pushed him ever closer.

He fucked you through your high before he picked his pace up, searching his own high. It wasn’t long before he came, too, burying himself deep inside you as he filled you up. You gasped at the feeling and pulled him closer, needing every piece of your mate you could get.

Neteyam smiled into your neck as you both caught your breath, and he pressed a light kiss to your skin before he pulled back to look at you with a soft smile. “We are mated before Eywa,” he breathed and cupped your jaw.

You leaned into his touch with a soft smile. “We are mated for life,” you replied, making his smile widen.

“My mate, my beautiful mate,” he smiled and rested his forehead against yours as you both soaked each other in.

You stayed with your forehead against his as your highs melted away, and slowly Neteyam pulled out of you, murmuring a soft apology when you whimpered at the loss of him. You could still feel his every breath and heartbeat, just like he could feel yours, and when he reached to break the bond, you shook your head. “Can we stay like this?” You asked softly.

Neteyam dropped his head as he nodded and he gave you a small smile before he kissed you softly. His every touch felt like home and you melted into him. He ran his thumbs over your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes full of love for you before he let himself settle behind you. His chest was warm against your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you smiled to yourself as you leaned back against him.

You could feel his breath and his heart and the entirely of his being.

Whole, you realized, you felt whole. Neteyam was your other half, the part you hadn’t realized you were missing. Your everything.

The bond was a beautiful thing.

You smiled as you melted back against him. Your eyelids were heavy and it was easy for sleep to claim you, and when it did, you dreamt of your future with Neteyam—the way you’d grow together and the son he’d give you—and you smiled as you slept, unaware that Eywa had shown Neteyam the same dream.

When you woke to the sunlight streaming on your face the next morning, Neteyam was already awake, just soaking in the feeling of you, your braids still conjoined. He smiled when he realized you were awake and guided you onto your back so he could look at you as he rested on his side.

“Good morning, my mate,” he smiled softly.

“Good morning, my mate,” you repeated and reached out to cup his cheek. Neteyam leaned into your touch, making you smile as you ran your thumb over the arch of his cheek.

All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in you forever, but he knew you both had things to do and expectations to meet. “We should head back to the village,” he whispered and you sighed before nodding.

“We should,” you agreed, even if all you wanted was him.

He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he asked to separate your braids. You didn’t want to, but you nodded and let Neteyam pull his braid from yours. You gasped at the break, feeling colder than you did a moment before, but even without the bond you could feel Neteyam. It was nowhere as strong as when your braids met, but he still lingered in the back of your mind and you knew you lingered in the back of his. You gave him a soft smile as you trailed your hand down his arm and he grinned at you, so in love with you.

It wasn’t hard for both of you to redress, through it did take you a few extra moments to clean your thighs, which made Neteyam smirk as he watched you, both of you taking your time, neither of you wanting the moment to end.

You had left the village as individuals, but now you returned as a mated pair. You held his hand as you let him guide you through the village toward his parents, toward the Olo’eykton.

As the Olo’eykton, it was his duty to know of every newly mated pair, and had it been anyone but his father, you wouldn’t have been so nervous. Sure, it was soon after his iknimaya, but he was still a man. But it was Neteyam’s father and Neteyam was the next Olo’eykton, making you, his mate, the next Tsahìk, and you couldn’t disappoint his family, or the People.

To no surprise, his family was already awake. Village life always started early.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri started when she laid her eyes on her oldest son, but her next words died on her tongue when she saw him holding your hand. He didn’t have to say anything for her to know. At his mate’s voice, Jake looked over and the corner of his lips twitched up as he saw his eldest son, already sensing his earlier intuition was correct.

“Mother, father,” Neteyam said and dipped his head to his parents, his hand never leaving yours, “I am taronyu now,” he continued. “Which means—”

“You may now choose a woman,” his mother finished for him, thinking back to the night she told Jake the very same words.

“Yes,” he breathed before he glanced back at you with a smile. “And I have.”

“You have?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded as he looked to his father.

“We are mated before Eywa.”

His mother took a sharp breath in, not in disapproval, but out of realization that her eldest son had truly become a man and had left her nest. Jake touched Neytiri’s arm to ground her as he nodded to his son. “We’re happy for you,” he said for the both of them before looking at his own mate, encouraging her to say something.

“We are,” she breathed and stepped forward to cup Neteyam’s cheek. “My son,” she whispered and ran her thumb over the arch of his cheek.

Neteyam smiled at his mother before he nodded and pulled back from her touch, his smile widening as he looked at you and let his tail brush yours. Jake nodded at the interaction before he smiled at you, “welcome to the family.”

Your smile widened before you dipped your head to him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nah,” Jake waved his hand. “It’s Jake.” He told you, though one day you’d come to call him ‘dad.’

You were welcomed into the Sully family with open arms. Neytiri had her reservations, as would any mother, but Jake adored you. He saw how deeply you cared for Neteyam, and how deeply Neteyam cared for you, and though he’d never admit it, Jake could see him and Neytiri in you two.

Neteyam’s youngest sister, Tuk, adored you and though Neteyam was her best friend, you were a close second. Kiri was happy to have another sister, and one closer in age than Tuk. And Lo’ak…

Lo’ak treated you like you had always been there. He didn’t hesitate to make fun of you like he did for the rest of his siblings, and he certainly didn’t hold back as he made fun of you picking Neteyam for your mate. It always made Neteyam roll his eyes and, more often than not, call his sibling a skxawng, but it made you smile because it meant you were truly part of the family and you loved it.

The bond was beautiful, as was the family you gained with it.

The problem was, nothing stayed perfect forever.

Everything changed the day Jake realized there was one too many stars in the sky.

Twenty years before, Toruk Makto led the clans to victory over the Sky People, all Na’vi knew his story, but the war was over, something of the past, something that had come and gone before either you or Neteyam were born—or it was supposed to be anyway.

The Second War against the Sky People was more intense than you could have ever imagined, with the guns and the fire and the relocation and the devastation and the death—so many deaths.

A very capable hunter, Neteyam was always involved in the war effort. A spotter. He tried to reassure you that it was the safest role he could have, that he wasn’t on the ground on the front lines, but it didn’t make you feel any better. There was no “safe” in a war. And you had seen too many of your people die.

As the mate of the next Olo’eykton, you could be the next Tsahìk, so Mo’at had taken you under her win, teaching you so you could one day take her place. So, unlike your mate, his parents and his brother, your role in the war wasn’t out there but back at home as you worked to heal the wounded—and make comfortable those who would be welcomed into Eywa’s arms.

You knew your role was important, but it was hard. It was hard to see the devastation and the death, and it was hard knowing your mate was out there and could just as easily be the next person who came through the tent flap in need of help.

You could never breathe deeply, let alone eat or drink, until he was home safe.

And the day he came back home bruised and bloodied, you dropped your tray of herbs before you rushed to him, even as Jake scolded him and Lo’ak.

“I’m fine,” he told you softly, but the blood on your hand said otherwise.

“You are bleeding, he is bleeding,” you said as you turned to Jake after he finished his little speech. “I am taking him to Mo’at.” Neytiri backed you up, also worried for her son, so Jake dismissed him and you heard Neytiri arguing with him as you led Neteyam toward the healing tent, your hand on his back.

“I’m fine, truly,” he repeated once you two were out of earshot of his parents.

“You are hurt,” you replied softly and stopped to look at him, taking his hand in yours. “My heart aches seeing you hurt.”

Neteyam gave you a soft smile and rested his forehead against yours. “I am fine, my mate,” he said before he kissed you. “I feel no pain when I am with you.”

His words made your heart flutter and you retuned his smile. “You still require healing,” you replied and led him to Mo’at’s tent where Kiri was helping her grandmother.

You knew you should help Mo’at, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave your mate’s side. Kiri knew what to do, she was even better than you were, and you were more than happy to let her assist Mo’at while you held Neteyam’s hand, the end of your tail curled around his ankle.

Your heart ached every time he winced at the sting of the antiseptic and you squeezed his hand as you watched Mo’at and Kiri. His wound looked worse than it was, and you let out a relieved breath as they finished up.

“See?” Neteyam smiled weakly. “I’m okay.” You shook your head but still thanked Eywa that your mate was alright.

Still, you struggled to find sleep that night, your mind consumed with the what ifs of your mate’s injury. It would be too easy for his injury to be worse, for him to be taken from you. You had seen too many lose their mates the last year and had their blood curling screams as their hearts shattered beyond repair permanently imprinted in your memory.

To lose a mate was a fate worse than death, and you knew you’d never survive it.

Neteyam healed quickly from his wounds and Lo’ak was grounded for his recklessness. Neteyam was back on his ikran long before Lo’ak was, and without his ikran, without being involved in the war, Lo’ak somehow managed to create even more trouble as he convinced his siblings to return to the old shack.

It was a harmless intention born out of boredom and frustration, but the results were life altering.

It was Avatars. New Avatars. In tactical gear. They managed to get Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and Spider under their knives and you didn’t want to think of what could have happened if not for Jake, Neytiri and Neteyam. But Jake knew they’d never stop hunting them, hunting his family. They may have won the battle, but the war still raged.

Everything changed after that, after they took Spider.

Jake and Neytiri knew the People would never be safe as long as they stayed with them, so they had to leave.

The words were like stones in Neteyam’s heart as he told you his family was planning to leave.

The Forest was your home, the only place you ever knew, the only place you ever wanted to know. The Forest was where you were born, where you grew up, where you fell in love with Neteyam, where you were supposed to raise your children.

Neteyam could sense your hesitation. “My father said it was for the best. He said that the Sky People are hunting us and not the People, so if we leave, the People will be safe,” he explained as he took your hand in his and brushed his tail against yours. “But I will stay with you if you ask me, my mate.” He would follow you to the end of the world if you asked.

You tightened your lips as you thought, but it was an easy decision. Just a painful one. “I go where you go,” you told him softly and squeezed his hand. “You are my home and my future, Neteyam.”

In hindsight, you really wished you had asked him to stay.

You packed your things onto your ikran and your heart ached as you said your goodbyes, but Neteyam was your mate. You couldn’t be without him.

Neteyam flew by your side as you left the Forest and even without touching him, you felt his comfort and you gave him a soft smile. As long as you were together, you’d be alright.

In the end, you found sanctuary with the Metkayina, the reef people.

It was hard to learn their ways, it was hard leaning the way of the water when the Forest was all you knew, but what you didn’t expect was how hard it was to see Neteyam lose his battle belt. His whole life he had been working toward it, working to become taronyu and earn his place among the People, and he barely had it a year before it was taken from him; before his symbol of manhood was taken from him.

Neteyam may have been taronyu, a man, among the Omatikaya, but you were Metkayina now and the iknimaya of the Omatikaya meant nothing here. He had to learn the way of the water and earn his place among the Metkayina before he’d be seen as a man.

Like Jake, Neteyam’s ears dropped as his belt was taken away and you did your best to steel your shoulders like Neytiri. You both had to be strong for your mates.

None of you were seen as adults among the Metkayina, but rather as children. It frustrated some more than others, like you and Neytiri. Neteyam took after his father and tried to take the transition in stride and did what he could to fit in.

And if the relocation and the helpless feeling wasn’t enough, you were sick a few times after the transition. Initially, you blamed it on the dietary shift. Sure, fish had been a part of your diet before, but it was freshwater fish and something you only had on occasion rather than every meal of every day. It was easy to blame your sickness on the fish, you just didn’t realize that none of the others were getting sick. Not until you were shucking oysters with Ronal at least.

Ronal was the Tsahìk of the Metkayina. She saw all and she was especially hesitant toward you and Neytiri. Both you and Neytiri were being trained to become the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya, so it was natural for you both to resume your training with Ronal, she just wasn’t overly fond of the idea.

Ronal let it go the first few times you gagged at the smell of the oysters before she sighed. “Have you mated recently?” She asked without looking at you.

Your eyes bugged at the question. “Why do you ask?” You replied and stopped shucking to look over at her.

“Because I am wondering if you are with child,” Ronal replied, and the knife slipped from your hand.

“What?” You asked breathlessly.

“With child,” she repeated simply. She had had two children of her own with a third on the way, and she had helped to deliver more babes than she could count. She knew the signs well and given the amount of time she had been spending with you over the last couple weeks, she could see them in you. When you didn’t answer, Ronal looked over at you, “it is a simple question. Have you mated recently?”

Your ears went back as you blushed and nodded. Ronal hummed and put the oyster she was holding and her knife down before she stood and beckoned you up. She hummed as she looked you over before she touched your forehead and then your stomach.

“Food aversion?” She asked and you nodded.

“Fatigue?” You nodded again.

“Have you bled?” You thought about it for a moment before you ears went back further. You had been so focused on fitting in and your mate you hadn’t realized.

Ronal hummed and stepped back. “I do believe you are with child,” she said before she returned to her oysters like your world hadn’t just shifted on its axis—again.

Your hands shook as you gently touched your stomach.

Pregnant.

You—

You’d be lying if you said you couldn’t be, you certainly found comfort in your mate’s arms many, many times since the relocation. But pregnant? Now? Could there be a worse time?

Slowly, you pulled your hands back and took a deep breath to clear your mind and ground yourself before you picked your knife back up and reached for another oyster.

“There are other things to do,” Ronal told you. “If the small bothers you, you will be slow. Tsireya will provide you with a different task to do.” You wanted to take her up on the offer, but you could hear Jake’s voice in your head telling you not to cause trouble and pull your weight, so you shook your head.

“I will be fine.”

She hummed but wasn’t surprised when you gagged again a moment later and she cast a look in your direction. You sighed as you nodded and moved your basket of unshucked oysters over to her, “I will find Tsireya.” If she smiled as you walked away, well, no one had to know.

Everyone was still so focused on fitting in and you could see the way looking after Lo’ak and keeping him out of trouble weighed on Neteyam, so you kept the news to yourself. If you told him, he’d only worry about you more than he already did and you didn’t want that.

And, well, it was no surprise that Ronal wasn’t fond of you. Forest People. Outcast. Alien. But knowing you were with child made Ronal soften. She didn’t look at you with the same animosity she did the others, and every time she saw you, she was sure to ask how you were doing. The Sullys were smart people, and it didn’t take Neytiri long to put two and two together and realize something was up with you, but she kept her suspicions to herself as she kept a careful eye on you.

You had always been the more affectionate one in your relationship with Neteyam, always touching him or seeking to touch him, but now you were reserved. At first, Neytiri thought you two were fighting, but Neteyam assured her you weren’t, that it was just the move and the swimming was exhausting you and the fish wasn’t agreeing with you, which was true—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. You did, you just didn’t want to add to his already full plate, and then the longer you kept it a secret the harder it was to tell him. Between Kiri’s seizure and Norm coming and Lo’ak and Neteyam’s fight with Ao’nung and Payakan and the Tulkun, there just wasn’t a good time to tell him.

It was only after yet another dinner you couldn’t keep down that the truth finally came to light.

“You are unwell,” Neteyam said as he followed you toward your hut. It was the third time this week and he was tired of you constantly brushing it, and him, off.

“I’m fine, Neteyam,” you sighed. “It’s just—”

“The move? The fish?” He repeated your words back to you. “No, I don’t believe you. Have you spoken to Ronal? She is Tsahìk and she could help you.”

You hesitated before you turned back to look at him with tight lips before you sighed and took his hand. He gave you a concerned look as you guided him down to the beach where you could have some privacy. “Ronal can’t help me,” you said as you turned to face and gently fiddled with his fingers. “Because I am not sick.”

“It is just us, my mate, you never need lie to me,” he replied softly and used his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m not lying, ‘Teyam,” you breathed and covered his hand with yours before you guided it down to your stomach. “I’m not sick, I’m with child.”

Neteyam froze as he let your words sink in before he softened. “You are with child?” He whispered and stepped closer to you.

You nodded, “it’s horrible timing, but—”

“But nothing,” he smiled. “This is amazing news! We’re having a baby—the first of many I hope.” You were taken by surprise when he picked you up and spun you around, completely elated.

You laughed softly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you patted him. “Enough, ‘Teyam, I’ll be sick again.”

“Right, sorry, my love,” he replied and sat you down, his smile never wavering as he touched your stomach again. “I’m just really happy.”

“I am, too,” you said softly and covered his hand before you kissed him softly. He cupped the back of your head to keep you close, but you both couldn’t stop smiling so you pulled back and rested your hand on his chest, feeling the familiar, comforting beat of his heart.

Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer by the small of your back before he rested his forehead against yours. “I would take you here and now on the beach if you let me, my mate,” he hummed.

“Anyone could see, including your parents,” you laughed.

“Then let them see,” he hummed and when he tried to kiss you again, you shoved him back, making him laugh loudly before he pulled you close again, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was.

“Once the sickness passes,” you told him and guided his hand back up to your back.

Neteyam softened and he nodded, “of course, my mate. May I at least hold you tonight?”

“I’d expect nothing else,” you smiled and let him lead you back toward your hut. Once Neteyam closed the flap, you rid yourself of your top—another sign of your growing baby was how swollen and sensitive your breasts had become and the weight of the beads irritated you in a way they never had before.

Neteyam groaned low in his throat as he knelt on the bed, “are you sure you don’t want me to pleasure you, my mate?” He asked softly.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you laughed and pulled him down next to you and you laughed when his hand managed to find your breast after he settled behind you. He didn’t try to do more than hold your breast while his other hand rested on your stomach, so you let him as you pressed yourself back against him.

The reef wasn’t the Forest, but it was nice and welcoming and you could see you two raising your children along the blue water and sandy beaches. Neteyam’s tail curled around your ankle and you smiled as you tried to press yourself closer to him. You could feel him smile into your neck and it was easy to fall asleep.

He was your everything.

This family was your everything.

And if you knew what would happen next, you would have fought sleep to soak in the feeling of his arms one last time. You would have memorized the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest. You would have traced every dark line that decorated his body. You would have held him a little longer.

You wouldn’t have taken the moment for granted, expecting thousands more in the coming years.

But you didn’t know what would happen so you didn’t, and the ache of regret would eat at you for the rest of your days.

The bond… it’s a beautiful thing.

Until it isn’t.

The village was devastated by the hunting of the Tulkun by the Sky People. They were their spirit brothers and sisters, and Jake didn’t have to say it for you to know it happened because you were here. They weren’t hunting the Tulkun, they were hunting you. When Jake took the tracker from Neteyam, you took his hand and he tried to reassure you as he squeezed your hand.

“You tell the Tulkun if they’re hit by one of these, they’re marked for death.”

Jake’s words hung heavy in the air. Neteyam gave you a look that told you everything would be okay, but your stomach still twisted. You came to the Metkayina to hide; to keep your people safe. You promised them you were done with war, but the war still followed you—and at the cost of their spirit siblings.

And because nothing ever came easy, Lo’ak was determined to warn Payakan himself. Neteyam followed Lo’ak, knowing his brother better than anyone and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Lo’ak gathering a saddle for an ilu.

He shook his head, a frustrated smile on his lips, “no way, you’re not going, baby brother.”

Lo’ak wasn’t having any of it. “I have to warn Payakan,” he told his brother firmly.

“No. You have to keep your skxawng ass here,” Neteyam replied, gritting his teeth. For once, could he just listen to him.

But Lo’ak never did. “He’s outcast. There’s no one to warn him but me.”

Neteyam shook his head as he clenched his fist. “Bro, why do you always have to make things so hard?” Neteyam said exasperated as he touched the top of Lo’ak’s’ head, but Lo’ak quickly shoved him off as his eyes hardened.

“No. You mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you, a perfect little soldier. Well, I’m not you, okay? I’m not you. He’s my brother. I’m going.” Neteyam clenched his jaw as he stepped back, his brother’s words cutting him like a knife. If he only knew the weight of his words, but he didn’t and he never would as Neteyam swallowed back the bitter words threatening to spill out and he steeled himself as stepped closer to his brother.

“Oh, he’s your brother? No, I’m your brother,” his voice was hard as he stared Lo’ak down, but Lo’ak didn’t concede and he scoffed before he dove in the water, heading for Payakan and Neteyam knew he had to go after him.

“Neteyam!” You called as you came up behind him and he shook his head.

“He’s going to Payakan,” he told you and you were hot on his heels as he summoned his ilu, as were Tsireya, Kiri, Tuk, Ao’nung and Rotxo. But when you went to summon your own ilu, Neteyam put his hand on your stomach to keep you back. “I need you here where you’re safe,” he told you but you shook his head.

“I’m going, Neteyam.” He opened his mouth to argue, but your look silenced him. Wherever your mate went, you would follow.

His tail flicked as he clenched his jaw before he nodded. “With me then,” he said before he dove into the water and you followed his lead. You quickly settled behind him on his ilu and wrapped your hand around his waist while he held onto the reigns of the ilu with one hand, his other hand reaching back to hold your thigh, keeping you against him as he followed after Lo’ak to Payakan.

By the time you got to Payakan, Lo’ak was struggling against the red tracker buried in Payakan’s back while the others tried to help. You and Neteyam were quick to jump on and help, but the tracker was in deep and you realized quickly that the demon ship was rapidly approaching.

“Call dad,” Neteyam said to Lo’ak. “Just do it.”

He didn’t want to, he knew the trouble he’d be in, so he hesitated before he called Jake. Lo’ak’s words were muffled as you all focused on the tracker. Your heart raced as you kept glancing between it and the demon ship. “Come on, come on, come on,” you said as Neteyam tossed a rope up to Ao’nung who wrapped one end around the tracker while Neteyam wrapped the other end around the reigns of his ilu.

“Please, Eywa, please,” you whispered as you pulled and pulled and finally the tracker gave, and you all fell at the release of tension. Neteyam was quick to gather the tracker as Lo’ak told Payakan to go.

“Go, I’ll draw them away,” Neteyam told you, making your blood go cold. When you opened your mouth to argue, Neteyam shook his head. They were after the tracker and Neteyam couldn’t have it anywhere near you, your baby, or his siblings. “Take Tuk, I’ll see you after.”

You had no choice but to nod and you gathered Tuk and Kiri on Kiri’s ilu and led them into the seaweed for cover, but the submarines followed you. Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as your ilu weaved between plants and leaves, desperate for any cover, but there wasn’t any to be had. There was too many of them.

The submarines swarmed you, forcing you off the ilu and you kept your eyes on Tuk as you swam toward an air pocket, Lo’ak and Tsireya right behind you while Kiri ended up with Ao’nung and Rotxo. “They’re coming,” Tsireya said and you were all quick to dive back under, but it was useless. The submarines could move faster than you could swim.

It was over when they launched the net at you. You didn’t realize it was coming until it was too late, the net already surrounding you and the air left your lungs as you began to panic. Lo’ak managed to escape before it caught him and he pulled at the net trying to rescue you, Tuk and Tsireya, but it was no use. The net scooped you up and dropped you on board the demon ship. Your vision swam as you tried to catch your breath, your lungs burning, and before you knew it, you were bound to the demon ship’s rail.

You watched as Tuk, Tsireya and Lo’ak struggled against the bonds but you knew it pointless. You were stuck. You were stuck and your mate was somewhere out there. You felt useless as the Metkayina attacked the demon ship. When you came and begged for sanctuary, you had promised them there would be no more war and now the war was here and they’d die because of your family.

You looked Tuk and your heart sank at the terror in her eyes, and you were so focused on Tuk you didn’t notice Payakan until he was on top of you, desperate to save Lo’ak.

All hell broke loose after that.

“Don’t watch,” you told Tuk. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Neteyam had always been her favourite family member, but you were a close second given you were his mate. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she nodded. “Just keep your eyes on me, Tuk,” you repeated.

It was only when Neteyam jumped on board that you were finally able to take a deep breath. A smile played on his lips as he cut your bounds, then Tuk’s, then Tsireya’s before he reached his brother and cut him free. “Who’s the might warrior? Come on, say it,” he grinned as he touched Lo’ak’s head before he turned back to you.

“Bro,” Lo’ak smiled and reached for a gun while Neteyam had his back to him.

“Go, get out of here. Take Tuk. Go,” Neteyam said to you.

“Neteyam—” you tried but he shook his head.

“Go,” he repeated, begging you to listen to him, and you clenched your jaw as you tried to lead Tuk away, and Neteyam kept his eyes on you, desperate to make sure you and Tuk were safe. But when he heard the familiar click of a gun, he turned back to his brother.

“We have to go,” he said but Lo’ak shook his head.

“He has Spider. Come on, bro, we can’t lose him,” Lo’ak said and headed into the ship.

Neteyam protested under his breath before he followed after his brother. Lo’ak always had to make things difficult.

At the same time, they managed to grab Kiri. Tuk’s scream for her sister would forever be imprinted in your memory, but you had to get her to safety. Jake and Neytiri would get Kiri.

Except, Tuk fought your hold on her before she slipped free and headed back for the ship. “Sullys stick together,” she said and you grumbled under your breath before you abandoned your ilu and headed after her, needing to keep her safe.

“This isn’t a good idea, Tuk,” you whisper shouted at her, but she ignored you, desperate to save Kiri, and you were sure to be quiet as you followed her.

“Kiri!” She called when she saw her sister, slipping under the bars as you both tried to break Kiri’s bonds, but it was no use and an Avatar was quick to bind Tuk to the rail next to Kiri before shoving you back into the water. Your heart sank and you wanted nothing more than to jump up and fight and rescue them and keep them safe, but when the bullets hit the water, you knew it wasn’t an option and you called to a nearby ilu and quickly jumped on. You’d have to find another way to rescue them and you circled the water looking for any sign of your mate and Lo’ak.

You were granted a moment of relief when you saw Tsireya, but it was short lived as you realized she was alone and your heart sank. Tsireya pulled her ilu up beside yours and pursed her lips as she shook her head. Neteyam and Lo’ak had to still be on board.

Your heart twisted before a flash of cold went through your body and you gasped for breath under the water, the air bubbling around you as Lo’ak, Spider and Neteyam jumped into the water above you, bullets still raining around you.

No.

You knew it. Before he could even say it, you knew, the freezing cold blooming in your chest that left you gasping for air as you resurfaced in the water.

“That was insane, cous,” the voice was muffled in your ears.

“Neteyam,” you breathed and reached out to him.

“You skxawng, I’ve been shot.”

Panic coursed through your veins and you swore you didn’t breathe as you wrapped your arm around him to keep his head above the water, the normally clear water stained red with his blood. Too much blood.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” you said to both him and yourself, even as the ice in your chest melted to a sharp ache that shot down your arm and Neteyam’s expression twisted in pain.

The panic in Lo’ak’s eyes mirrored your own as he helped you get Neteyam onto the ilu before he pulled you on too. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath. Neteyam was a mighty warrior, the best of his age, but he was weak in his arms.

“They have Kiri and Tuk,” Tsireya tried to tell him, but the words never really processed for him.

“We can’t go back,” he replied and raced for the rocks, Tsireya and Spider holding on to the side if the ilu’s reigns. You kept your hand pressed against Neteyam’s chest as you moved through the water and his hand gripped your wrist tightly, needing to hold on to you, needing to anchor himself to you.

It only took a minute to get to the rocks, but it felt like hours. Lo’ak helped you carry Neteyam as he gritted his teeth in pain. Your chest felt tighter with every passing second and you didn’t know if it was your own anxiety, or your mate slipping through your fingers.

Your hands shook as you moved around him and your ears started to ring as you rolled him onto his side. The shot was clean through.

“It’s almost always better for the bullet to be clean through.” You could hear Jake’s voice in your head and you laid him back and put pressure on his chest as you begged Eywa to help you.

It was almost always better.

Almost.

Neteyam’s hands were coated in his own blood and he looked up at you with wide, terrified eyes before he grasped your bicep, his grip nowhere near as strong as it was when he held your wrist.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” you told him, willing your voice not to shake so you could be strong for your mate. He breathed your name before he scrunched his face up like he was trying to get away from the pain. “You’re going to be okay,” you repeated before pulling your eyes away from his as Jake and Neytiri settled around you.

“No, no, no,” Jake whispered as he perched across from you.

“Clean through,” you told him before he could ask, your ears back and hands red with Neteyam’s blood, and your heart dropped at the way his ears went back. “No,” you whispered, unable to muster your voice any louder before you looked back at your mate. He had to be okay.

He had to.

“You’ll be okay,” Neteyam told you as he struggled to force air into his lungs.

The ache in your chest began to ease to a fuzzy feeling and you shook your head. “No, no, Neteyam.” You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t survive it.

“You’ll both be okay,” he breathed, his voice softer than a whisper as he dropped his hand to your stomach.

“I see you; I love you,” you told him, desperately trying not to cry and you pulled one of your hands from his chest to cup his jaw, your thumb tracing the dark line that decorated the arch of his cheek.

“I know, I—”

Neteyam never finished his sentence and his hand dropped from your stomach, leaving a bloody handprint in its wake.

You felt the moment he died.

The warmth, the comfort, the unmistakable feeling of him, fizzled out, replaced instead with an unshakeable feeling of emptiness.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

You were supposed to spend your life with him.

It was supposed to be you and him.

You and him.

You were lightheaded as you settled back on your haunches, your hands red with his blood and Lo’ak caught you as you swayed.

Numb.

The only way to describe the feeling was numb, like he had taken your soul with him when he died, leaving nothing but an empty shell in his wake.

And maybe he had.

The bond is beautiful, that’s what they tell you. But they never tell you of the anguish that comes with it.

You could separate your life into before Neteyam and after Neteyam. The before wasn’t important, it didn’t matter, because Neteyam was your world. He was your everything, your world spun on an axis of you and him. The People say you’re born twice, once when you are born and then again when you find your place among the people, and you were born again the day Neteyam chose you. And now all that was left of your mate was his bloody handprint and the world had the audacity to keep on spinning.

The ringing in your ears drowned out Neytiri’s blood curling scream for her first-born son, and you slouched into Lo’ak as you kept your eyes on Neteyam’s. His beautiful, golden, lifeless eyes.

You didn’t hear Jake ask Lo’ak where his sisters were. You didn’t hear Tsireya tell him they were on the ship. You didn’t hear Spider tell him to follow him. And you certainly didn’t hear Jake tell Lo’ak to stay and that he had done enough. You didn’t hear any of it as you kept looking at your mate, unable to pull your eyes away, no matter how painful it was.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

You only heard Lo’ak tell Tsireya he was going because he pulled back from you, jostling you enough to pull you from your trance to steady yourself. “Lo’ak, no,” she replied desperately, but there was no stopping him as he dove back into the water, leaving you alone with her and your mate’s dead body.

You didn’t know how long you two sat there in the silence, it could have been seconds or minutes or hours, before Tsireya broke it. “We should wash your hands,” she said softly.

You curled your hands into fists. You didn’t want to. Washing the blood off meant losing the only tangible part of your mate you had left. But you knew she was right, so you nodded and you moved on autopilot as she led you to the edge of the water. Your gaze was blank as she washed Neteyam’s blood off your hands, but you drew the line when she reached for your stomach.

“No,” you said sharply and gripped her wrist before she could touch you. Her ears went back as she nodded before she took your hand in hers as you sat back on the rock.

You felt both empty and heavy at the same time as you sat there before Tsireya found her voice again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say.

Your ears went back as you nodded, not trusting your voice. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you looked over at her. “You and Lo’ak deserve better,” you whispered and touched your stomach, desperate to remind yourself of something worth living for.

Her ears went back even further as her shoulders dropped, but she followed your hand with her eyes. “He—” she started before she stopped herself. “Are you?” She asked instead.

You nodded again before you looked over at her with tears streaming down your cheeks. “I can’t do this on my own. I can’t do this without him.”

Her shoulders dropped as her ears went back again. She couldn’t imagine what you were feeling. “You won’t do this alone,” she told you softly. “You have the village behind you.”

You knew she only meant to comfort you, but her words only reminded you that Neteyam would never meet his child. “But I need him,” you whispered before you pulled your hand from her and pushed yourself away from the water’s edge.

Your heart broke all over again as you looked at your mate, laying there lifelessly, blood staining his beautiful blue skin. His eyes were still open as they stared at the sky above—at nothing. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as you looked at him before you reached out and softly closed his eyes. He’d look like he was sleeping, if not for all the blood.

But despite all the blood, you laid down next to him and gently put your head on his chest as you curled into him, your tail wrapping around his ankle.

His chest was silent and still and you wept into him, begging Eywa to give him back.

But she didn’t.

His chest never rose, his heart never beat, his skin never warmed, and his eys never opened.

He was gone.

Your beautiful mate was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back.

The funeral was harder than you expected, having to say goodbye to his body as you, Jake and Neytiri lowered his body down to the Cove of the Ancestors. You knew that he was gone, that your mate was gone, that it was just a shell of his being, but you still wept, your tears burning your eyes more than the salt ever did.

Your lungs burnt as the air left you as you watched as the cove took his body, wrapping around him as it slowly consumed him, and just like that, he was gone, a piece of the ocean.

The way of water has no beginning and no end. The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.

The first thing anyone heard when you resurfaced was your sob and you let Neytiri hug you as you sobbed into her shoulder. “My child,” she whispered as she held you close.

“It’s not fair,” you managed to get out between sobs.

“I know,” she whispered, her heart just as broken as yours.

Eywa holds all her children in her heart, but all you wanted was to hold him in your arms.

And if you thought the funeral was hard, visiting the Spirit Tree was even harder. Jake and Neytiri had gone soon after the funeral but took you days to get the courage to visit, to visit Neteyam.

Your tears disappeared into the salt water as you held your braid in your hand. Your heart ached in your chest, but slowly you let your tendrils connect with the Spirit Tree.

At first, all you felt was warmth as white consumed your vision, but then you were filled with the familiar view of the Forest, of your home. You smiled to yourself as you looked around, and just like that, Neteyam slipped out from between the trees, his battle belt and ikran eyewear on and your eyes watered as you looked at him, every bit the man you loved.

“Neteyam?” You asked and he smiled as he came around you, his tail wrapping around yours in a way he knew comforted you.

“Why are you crying, my mate?” He asked concerned he reached out to cup your jaw.

“I’m just happy to see you,” you told him breathlessly and you committed his smile to memory.

“I’m happy to see you, too, my mate,” he replied and you trailed your eyes over every mark on his body as your heart wept.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Neteyam was your everything, your best friend, your lover, your mate, the father of your child.

From the moment his braid meant yours, you felt him. You felt him in a way no one else could and no one else would. You felt his being. And too soon you had felt him go.

Memories of you two as children, growing up, becoming teenagers, and falling in love, flashed before your eyes and you took water into your lungs as you sobbed, forcing yourself to pull back from the spirit tree and returned to the surface, one hand treading water as you held your stomach with the other.

A boy, you thought suddenly, the Tsahìk abilities you had been training for finally showing themselves. You were having a boy.

The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced, the beginning and end of everything, of all that you are.

#neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar twow spoilers #avatar spoilers #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water imagine #avatar twow imagine #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut #avatar twow smut #neteyam smut #mine #i really dont know if posting this was a good idea but umm yeah throwing this into the abyss #if this flops i might just delete it lmao

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blughxreader · 9 months

Note

I know you said "re-connection" was platonic, but reading through it (while giggling impishly), my thought process was: "This is going to end in sex... this HAS to end in sex.... How is this NOT going to end in sex???" And I was pleasantly surprised it didn't. I very much loved it and liked the portrayal of both Dick and Jason. You also made MC into a very interesting character and I've read the fic like 4 times already and still convince myself that it's going to end in sex cause like... have you seen them? Those boys clearly want to plow you (... in a brotherly? fashion /jk)

Yess i think the reason why the fic (and yandere in general) is so good is because the yandere's have one straightforward goal (loving you) that they go about in the most backwards ass way possible

Being stripped down and overpowered and held heavily indicates sex, but... that didn't happen, and that somehow makes it worse.

If they had sexually molested the reader then it would have been for their own benefit (thus easier to blame), but they acted in her interest instead. Very angering and confusing.

Also I REALLY loved Dick and Jason as the yanderes because they have such interesting motives.

Dick is the heart of the Bats, so he strives to maintain inter-relational order. Bruce might be the head of the family but he's fucking awful at subtlety.

Dick is the "let's all watch a movie" to Bruce's "In order to strengthen bonds, we will start an "companion" rotation so you can familiarize yourself with everyone's company. I have 42 follow-up plans depending on how you react after two cycles."

Your resistance to the pack hurt a lot of feelings that Dick's trying to remedy, so it's not just only you he wants to help. The pack needs its sister, and he's going to ensure you join them.

Jason doesn't concern himself with pack unity. Whether you want to join or not, he gets it. BUT that respect goes away when he sees you struggling.

In the fic, he sees you as a conflicted and confused person who's drowning in their own poor decisions.

Let's also not forget that Jason is the judge, jury, and executioner for criminals. He can absolutely reach the point where he makes decisions for you if he deems you unable.

Dick "pack is so important, PLEASE get along" Grayson and Jason "you can live how you want up until you hurt yourself" Todd make a pretty fun team.

AS FOR THE SEXUAL UNDERTONES... guilty teehee. I left it vague on purpose. Also ABO is so sexually charged, it's impossible to escape.

Taboo step sibling romance is hot, but i also prefer to think of batfam in the platonic sense lol. Bon appetite to all y'all who wanna read between the lines tho

#yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere batfam #yandere #platonic yandere

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sulieykte · 10 months

Text

𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of blood, poor coping mechanisms and life choices. minor jake bashing (i still love you boo), spit as lube, smut (p in v), blink and you'll miss it oral (f receiving), dacryphilia (but not really), ANGST ANGST ANGST ‣ Word Count: 5.4k ‣ A/N: So this has been a long time coming and I apologise for the wait. It's ended up being much longer than I expected and I hope that you all enjoy this. It's the final part to the story, with an epilogue and potential sequel to follow this week and I'd like to thank everyone that's been with me throughout this story, it's given me the chance to get to know so many amazing people and it means so much to me. I need to thank @andraga12 because without her listening to my stressing and talking me down several times, this chapter would have never been finished <3 A lot of this chapter was me being in my feelings about Spider and I'm not gonna feel sorry for that, that's my kid right there. There's a few call backs in this to previous chapters and I'm giving out smooches and hugs for each one anyone catches. As always enjoy, and if you see mistakes before I come back tomorrow to fix them, then no you didn't.

This chapter was inspired by Wrong Direction - Hailee Steinfeld and I recommending listening to it while reading the second scene. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: parultsyìp - term of affection for children, tsaheylu - neural connection (bond) tìyawn - love, 'ite - daughter, 'evi - child (affectionate), itan - son, utumauti - banana fruit, tewng - loincloth

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“Come. We have to leave.”

The taste of tears, rain and blood have long since become indistinguishable on your tongue by the time Neteyam manages to coax your crumpled frame from the ground. You struggle to find your footing, whether from the dampened bark or the fact your legs felt intangible beneath you, you aren’t sure. It doesn’t matter as his hands don’t leave you, haven’t left you since he pulled you away from the edge.

A hand on your hip tries to guide you forward, rain slicked lips skimming your ear as they tell you that you need to move. That you can’t stay here. They might come back. You don’t find this to be incentive enough to leave. And you open your mouth to tell him that, to tell him that leaving meant giving up and accepting that Spider was gone. That he wouldn’t climb back up and give you that lopsided grin of his that he always has when he narrowly avoids death on the planet he wasn’t made to survive. But when your lips part, nothing but a pathetic, small whimper comes out.

Hands wrap around your forearms and you’re spun around, forced to face him. Instinct screams at you to move away but he stops your resistance before it can begin, pinning your arms to your side in an iron grip, his face barely an inch away from yours as he demands your attention.

“You need to listen to me… I’m telling you that we need to leave now. There’s nothing we can do for Spider anymore– We don’t know where they’ve taken him, and if they come back, they will kill us… We have to leave.”

Your dried out eyes meet his own pleading gaze, at odds with the firm hold he has on you. You should fight, you should curse him from preventing you from going after Spider. Neteyam would not give a moments thought before going after his family, his siblings. But he keeps you rooted in place, ripping from you your last shred of denial.

“Neteyam? Neteyam, do you copy? Over.”

“Yes, sir. I’m with y/n. En route now. Over.”

“Good…” Jake’s voice drops, barely a murmur but your proximity to Neteyam allows you to hear it. “Is she okay?” Neteyam’s head tilts, golden eyes only catching your own for a second before he looks away, pressing two fingers to his neck.

“We’re en route now.”

Hands pull you out of Neteyam’s grasp before you can register who they belong to, your head nestled into a shoulder with an exclamation of “Thank God.” as his hand reaches up to cup the back of your head, pressing you further into a father’s embrace.

“Ma’ite.” Neytiri places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with a gentle hand that soothes the shaking of your form, your eyes closed tight to trap any tears that might fall if you allowed yourself to look into any of the eyes that you knew were on you. “Ma’ite, we must leave.” Her voice is pleading, reminiscent of the son that favoured her so much

“We can’t.” You push yourself out of Jake’s embrace, looking up at the man you saw as a second father with pleading eyes. “Please, there’s still time to catch them.” Your eyes find Kiri, eyes red-rimmed from crying and you know she’s made the same case before you.

“Listen.” Jake takes you by the shoulders, bending his knees to meet your eye-line. “Spider is a tough kid, and he’s one of their own. He’ll be fine.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, that he would say that, nonetheless believe it. Spider was not one of their own. His body may be human, but his heart was Na’vi. He couldn’t be further from the humans that raise your land for profit.

“We don’t have time for this kid, we’ll talk about this back at camp.”

“No.” You shake your head, stepping away from him, avoiding Lo’ak’s hands as they reach for you. His eyes can’t quite meet yours as he calls your name and you know he must be feeling the same guilt that you are for not being able to prevent your friend's capture. The guilt would eat you from the inside out, for being the ones to suggest and encourage the excursion that led to it. “I won’t. It’ll be too late by then, we can’t wait!” Tuk tugs on your arm, pleading with you to come with them, but something changes in Jake’s face and you can’t look away.

“Oh.” Your voice cracks as you put it all together. They have no intention of going after Spider at all. A look around at all of their faces confirms that they already know. Your sorrow is replaced with anger and a desire to scream. You have always looked up to Jake and Neytiri, but at this moment, you feel nothing but contempt towards them. “What, so Sully’s stick together and fuck everyone else?”

Neytiri looks aghast as she reaches out for you, but you move out of her reach. You’d expected it from her, as she had never hidden her dislike for Spider. But Jake, you can't understand how he of all people, who was born human and worked for the RDA, could be so dismissive of Spider's life.

“Parultsyìp, it’s not like that. We’re three ikran short and there’s Tuk.” He actually has the audacity to look hurt at your words. Tuk’s hands tug on you, you spare a glance away from her father and feel a twinge of guilt at seeing the tears filling her eyes. “Please. I can’t lose another one.”

Your neck feels like it could have broken with how quickly your head snaps back towards him.

“Another one?” Your fists clench at your side, and Neytiri pulls Tuk away from you. Jake’s brows raise in alarm as he watches you. You don’t speak to him like this, you never have and you never thought you would, but the respect you held for him as Olo’eyktan and a father was waning. “Your family got back safe and that’s all you care about.” His jaw tightens and his eyes glisten but he lets you continue. If you’ve stepped over the line, he allows it. “If it wasn’t for your son, and that hero complex of his that’s going to get him killed one day, I wouldn’t even be here right now– But that’s fine, Sully’s stick together… and I’m not a Sully.”

"Enough," Neteyam growls, gripping your forearm and pulling you backwards. You stumble into his chest. His voice softens when you turn to face him, the hostility you had toward his father now directed at him. "You've made your point. Let's go.”

As he pulls you away, you don’t turn to face the rest of his family. There’s no energy left in you to fight him as he pushes you up onto the back of his Ikran. Neither of you speaks on the journey back to High Camp and you’re grateful that he allows you the time to give in to your exhaustion, resting your back against his chest and letting your eyes drift shut.

Neteyam rouses you shortly before you arrive home and you hop down from his Ikran before he has a chance to break Tsaheylu. You hear Lo’ak call out for you, but you don’t look back. Leaving the Sully’s behind as you make your way back to your Marui.

“Ma’ite, please.” The desperation is evident in your mothers voice even as you avoid her gaze. “You are not thinking clearly, Spider would not want this.”

She crosses the tent, crouching down next to you, her hand wraps around the shaft of the arrow you’re diligently coating the tip of with the toxins of the anìheyu plant. The plant had once provided you with a name for your Ikran, fitting for the mount of a warrior, your father had declared, smile exuding pride as he urged you to take your first flight and seal the bond.

Now as you stare into the bowl of toxin that would kill you if it penetrated your bloodstream, tightening your hold on your coated arrows to prevent your mother from tearing them from your grasp, you think of Spider. Of how the same plant provided the pigment he painted himself with, in a futile attempt to be seen by the members of the clan that would refused to see past the violence of his heritage, though he was born only a stone's throw from where you yourself were born, though his blood ran as red as yours, they could not accept him. They could not see him. Not like you did, and they left him behind as though his life meant nothing.

“Let go.” Your voice is low, strained from distress. You meet her eyes, rimmed with tears but set with determination as she refuses you. Your mother was soft, a gentle woman who led a life devoted to the clan, to the care of others but that gentleness was now replaced with a fire that met your own as she tugs the weapon from your hand with strength you didn’t know she had.

“Ma’evi, I know what Spider means to you.” She places the arrow behind her, out of your immediate reach and cups your face in her hands. “I care for him too, and that is how I know that he wouldn’t wish for this… You would die before you reach their gates and you know this.” In that moment you see all of her years etched in her face, the grief and the terror she holds at the loss of her mate and the thought that she could lose you too.

She’s right, Spider wouldn’t want you to embark on a suicide mission to save him, nor would he wish for anyone to go after him and risk their lives for his, but you know that deep down, if he heard of Jake’s refusal to even entertain a rescue attempt it would crush him as deeply as it did you.

“I know that, but if I don’t try, then who else is going to fight for him?” You cough away the tightness in your throat and gently pull your face out of her tender hold. Standing, you cross the tent away from her, and reach for the bow you carved from the ruins of hometree. You run the pad of your finger along the limb, tracing the letters that Spider had etched into the wood, five of them that he said represented the names of each of the Sully siblings and your own, the sixth that you insisted that he add was his own. “I won’t leave him behind.”

Her eyes fill with tears and your own well up in a response, but you quickly blink them away. The weight of impending loss is heavy in the air between you, and if you looked into her eyes for a second longer, you’re sure you might catch the moment that she begins to mourn you, knowing that she’s helpless to stop you. After all, she raised you to hold fast to your convictions and what you believe to be right.

The silence that settles between you is broken by the clearing of a throat, and your mother turns, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand before she greets the person entering the tent.

“I see you, Neteyam. What brings you here ma’itan?”

Heart pounding, you turn to find his eyes are already on you, lips parted in something that might be surprise as his gaze flickers down to the bow in your hand, before he gathers himself and returns your mothers gesture.

“I see you, Auntie. I’m here to see y/n, would you mind giving us some time to speak?”

Her ears dip, and her forehead furrows as she looks back and forth between the two of you. It isn’t difficult to guess what is going through her mind after finding you asleep in each other's arms the previous night. After years of trying to get you two to play nice, you can only imagine the confusion she must have felt at finding you tangled together. It must be why she relents so easily, despite your pleading look and the shake of your head.

“Of course, I wanted to speak to your mother anyway.” She says before leaving, sparing you a concerned glance as she walks past Neteyam and exits the Marui, abandoning you with the last person you want to be alone with.

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

He doesn’t speak, he just looks at you, his eyes travelling up your body, stalling at the bow in your hand for a moment before they find your face and his features soften for a split second before his jaw hardens and he crosses the tent, tail lashing behind him as he closes in on you. Your back hits the wall of the tent as you fail to retain the space between and his hand closes around your wrist.

He leans in, breath hot against your face, adrenaline rushing your veins at his touch. Too close, too comfortable laying hands on you and you’re far too willing to allow it. It’s tempting to be drawn in by him, to the side of him that you had never had the pleasure of knowing, but you know in your heart that this won’t endure. This is not your Neteyam, your Neteyam is all teeth and claws, the burning desire to hurt and be hurt in the name of gaining power over one another.

“Let go of me Neteyam.” Your voice betrays you, coming out far too soft to have your desired effect. He doesn’t let go of you, his grip tightens, squeezing at the echo of the bruises he’d left on you before and his other hand comes to wrap around the hand that holds your bow.

“If you think I’m going to let you run off and get yourself killed–” He pauses, gritting his teeth. “This–” He squeezes your hand around the bow. “It’s a suicide mission, you don’t even know where they’ve taken him. You aren’t thinking clearly… What are you going to do, storm their city alone?”

Alone.

“If that’s what it takes.” Your nose brushes against his as you lift your chin to look him in the eyes. His nose scrunches, as though the action tickles him His breath catches in his throat, and the tension thickens in the air, sending shivers down your spine. But he recovers first, using your distraction to gently pull your bow from your hand, a firm hand against your chest knocking you back when you attempt to seize it back.

“Enough. Have you even thought about what could happen if you don’t die? If they capture you?” You hadn’t considered that option, and your face must give that away. “No, you haven’t. It’s bad enough that they have Spider, he knows everything about this place, he could already lead them right here– I know, I know he wouldn’t” He stems your argument with a raised palm. “Not willingly… but we know what the Sky People are capable of.”

He places your bow on its stand and grabs both your hands in his, they’re warm big enough that your own disappear in their hold. “You’ve attended war councils, and were cared for by the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem. If they captured you–” He swallows, squeezing your hands more tightly in his own. “They could bring our whole operation to the ground.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, bitter and sharp as you pull your hands from his. “Is that all you care about? The war efforts?” He reaches out for you again, but you push his hands away. Pacing back and forth, you press the palms of your hands against your eyes as tears threaten to escape and shatter your resolve.

It always came down to the war. For the past year, since the Sky People had returned it had been all consuming and you understood. You understood when it took your home, even when it took your father from you, he had been a warrior and chosen to fight. However, you couldn’t understand how they could be so callous, uncaring for the man who they had known since birth.

“Sometimes, when you open your mouth all I can hear is your fathers voice. I know you look up to him, but at this point it’s pathological.” You uncover your eyes and he’s watching you, eyes boring into your face with something that doesn’t quite reach anger. “So what is the plan? They have Spider and you’re so sure that he’ll give us away. What do we do now, mighty warrior?”

“We’re leaving.”

“What?” You’re stopped in your tracks, searching his eyes for the truth in his words. You find it and either of you takes a breath as your resolve falters long enough for a tear to fall free from your eye. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“My family, it’s my dad they’re after and they won’t stop until they find him.” His family, your family were leaving. “This will protect the people.” He continues, sweeping a hand through his braids. “If we stay here you will all die protecting us, this is what’s for the best.” He almost sounds like he believes it, the crack in his voice the only thing giving him away.

“So you’re telling me that you want to leave your home?” Your voice is shaking, you’ve given away all pretences that you are fine. How could you be? Faced as you are with another loss. One night and you would lose nearly everyone you held dear, leaving you with only your mother. How was that fair? How could that be what the great mother intended for you?

“Of course I don’t, my entire life is here. Everything I’ve ever known and trained for is here. I’m giving up everything, my birthright.” His eyes sparkle with tears you once would have loved to see fall, now they match your own as you both struggle to come to terms with the loss this night had cost you. “But my father is right. It’s the only way to keep y– everyone safe. It’s the best thing we can do for the people.”

“Why don’t you stay?” His brow raises in surprise, as taken aback as you are that you would even ask that, because you already know the answer. “You could take your father’s place as Olo’ekytan. Stay… Stay and fight for the people.”

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, his ears drop as he takes a step towards you, the conflict etched in his features as his hand rises and for a second you think he might reach out and touch you once more. Your heartbeat picks up in anticipation only to falter when he lets his hand fall back to his side.

That isn’t a question you can answer because you don’t even know yourself. You’re not even sure you mean it, if you’re really asking him to stay or you’re just grasping at one last hope that not everyone will leave you.

“If I did, would you?”

His answer never comes, it doesn’t need to. Sully’s stick together. You’d heard it so many times, even believed once that you were included in that. The words he’d intended to say before Jake stopped him, that you weren’t his family, now ring in your ears as your head falls into your hands. It feels like your chest might collapse in on itself as the realisation hits you, that you’ll never see Spider again, that Lo’ak and Kiri will leave you too, you’ll never see little Tuk grow up and pass her Iknimaya. You will never feel safety in the comfort and guidance of Jake and Neytiri again.

He gently pries your fingers away and takes your face in his hands. You can feel the warmth of his palm against your cheek, the sweet floral scent filling your senses as he wipes away the remnants of the night's trauma, the blood still dried into your skin, with the cloth your mother had left aside for you, You meet his eyes filled with sincerity and regret as he utters a soft apology.

“I hate you.” You tell him with as much vitriol as you can muster. For the first time since you began this bitter war, you don’t mean it. He had put you through so much hurt, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him anymore. The lines between love and hate had blurred and you’d become addicted to the moments in between, the exhilaration of being touched and desired by Neteyam. “I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

As he runs the cloth along your lower lip, you feel his finger catch on the corner of your mouth. Your breathing is momentarily interrupted. He is staring intently at your lips, his own parted mirroring your own as he cleanses your skin until all the red that was once there now stains the fabric.

You’re swept up in the moment, driven by insanity or desperation when you capture his lips with your own. With a fierce intensity that knocks him back, causes him to drop the bloodied cloth and catch your arms, wrapping his fingers around them and gently pushes you away from him.

“What are you doing?” He looks down at you with piercing golden eyes and his voice barely above a whisper, he asks a question you know the answer to now. You’re chasing the ecstasy of his touch, and you don’t care about the painful aftermath that would follow if, for just a moment, you don’t have to think or feel the enormity of your loss. You’ll take every second of numbness he can provide.

You reach for the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss, giving in to the rush of adrenaline when he doesn’t push you away again. You feel his hands find your waist and pull you in closer, your bodies pressing together as you explore each other's mouths. He parts his lips and you accept the invitation, tongue swiping against his, the taste of utumauti and fragrance of flora mixing together and filling your senses.

It’s not enough. You reach in between your bodies and press a palm over his tewng, delighting in finding his arousal already straining against the material and his moan that vibrates against your tongue as you roll your palm against him. His fingers dig deeper into your skin, bruising in the best way possible as he grinds against you his desire for you evident and thrilling. You smirk against his lips and he breaks apart only for a second to speak.

“Shut up,” and his lips are on yours again.

His tewng has to go, both of you seem to decide this at the same time. Without breaking the kiss, each of you reach down to pull at the strings until it’s discarded on the ground and his length hits your stomach and leaves a trail of precum on your skin before you take it in your grasp. You give it a couple of experimental pumps, his breath catching in his throat as his lips finally leave yours.

Your eyes meet as you slowly pump him, chests heaving against each other, the air thick and heavy with lust and neither of you needs to say a thing. It’s bittersweet, knowing that this will be the last time you have each other and you can’t pinpoint why your stomach sinks at the thought. You focus instead on the sensations of his skin against yours, his grip tightening on you, the way he smells of the forest and rain.

You maintain eye contact as you spit into your hand. His eyes widen and his knees buckle as you wrap your hand around his cock and spread it along his length. His head falls into the crook of your neck, muffling a whimper as you quicken your pace. It goes straight to your core when he latches onto your skin, sucking a mark where the previous had not long faded, weeks of elaborate necklaces working hard to hide the evidence of your previous trysts.

He steps back, and you raise a brow in question and he looks pained when he removes your hand. Your expression must have given away your disappointment, your worry that he was about to put an end to this and leave you alone once more.

“Tìyawn.” He says through panted breaths. “Tell me you want this.”

This time you do not have to think before you answer, you don’t have it in you any more to deny that you want him, to him or yourself.

“I want this.”

He has you on the mat so fast that your head is spinning when he looms over you, braids tickling your nose before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. His kisses are gentle, delicate as he moves from your lips and travels down your body. Lifting your chest covering to show appreciation to your breasts, he runs the tip of his tongue in circles around your hardened peak.

His hands run down your sides until they find your hips, playing with the strings of your tewng as his mouth leaves your nipple and follows his fingers. He alternates between kisses and sucking marks into the skin of your stomach. He’s too close, yet not close enough to where you really want him to be.

“Teyam.” You whine, he looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes from where he’s settled between your legs. It’s a beautiful sight that forces you to take a sharp intake of breath. Your thighs are already soaked with your slick when you watch him pry them open. There isn’t enough time, not to have him how you really want him, you don’t know when your mother will return and you’re not willing to risk interruption. “I need you.”

He seems to gather what you mean from the few words that you can mumble. He taps your hip and you raise yourself, allowing him to discard your tewng before spreading you out before himself like a meal he can’t wait to consume. He runs his hands up and down your thighs and you clench around nothing when he leans in and places a kiss at your center.

“Maybe another time.” He sighs, and it seems like he’s speaking to your cunt more than you. He runs a flat tongue along your slit and places a chaste kiss on your clit that sends a jolt of electricity through your body before he crawls up your form. His lips crash against yours, tongue pushing into your mouth to give you a taste of yourself, meeting your urgency with his own.

His tail wraps around your thigh, encouraging you to wrap it around his waist. Your other leg follows, pulling him in tight. With his arms caging you in, there’s barely an inch of skin left untouched. He rolls his hips and coats his length with your slick, and without warning, he pushes his entire length inside of you in one thrust.

Your body accommodates him, moulding to the shape of him as if it were its only purpose. You fight to steady your breathing, clutching at his toned back as you get used to the stretch. Neteyam does the same, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he composes himself.

"Please," you whisper, but he hears and answers. He rolls his hips, building a steady pace and lifting up onto his elbows and looking down at you. When your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze is too much and you have to shut your eyes. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist, focusing on the sensations and pleasure he's giving you.

“Open your eyes.”

As he grips your waist tightly, you can feel the heat emanating from his body. You try to gain control of the rhythm by rolling your hips, but he resists your attempt to take over. You feel his hands move up to your face, his fingers gently gripping your jaw. You turn your head towards him and feel his hot breath on your cheek. He repeats his command, his voice low and seductive, sending shivers down your spine.

"Don't." Your voice breaks and he stills above you. You open your eyes, glistening with the emotions you'd been desperate to numb. You feel the tears streaming down your face and the lump forming in your throat.

"Please-" you shake your head, unable to avoid his approaching hand as he reaches to brush away your tears. His calloused fingers are soft against your cheek as they go about their task. You close your eyes and lean into his touch, relishing the warmth of his hand on your skin.

But this is not what you need, not what you want from him at this moment. This gentle Neteyam serves only as a reminder of all that has changed over the past few weeks. He reminds you of the pain and the loss, all the things you’re desperate to forget.

“What do you need from me?”

You blink hard, finding the courage to stare into his concerned gaze. He’s giving the control over to you, making no move to pull out of you until you say so.

“I–I need you.” You find your voice, as you contain the emotions escaping your body through shaken breaths. You hope that he still has it in him one more time to be a little cruel, to heal your wounds and replace them with new ones. “I need you to fuck me Neteyam.”

His ears flatten against his head, the seeds of doubt evident on his face, but he obliges you anyway even if it looks like it pains him to do so. His grip on your jaw tightens and his hips build up to a bruising pace.

He lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder giving him the right angle to slam into your cervix. You cry out, arching your back as he hits that sweet spot inside of you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the Marui, mingling with your moans and his grunts. You claw at his back, etching streaks of crimson into his skin, as he pounds into you.

"Teyam, I'm--" you struggle to speak against the force of his thrusts. He lifts onto his knees and hooks his hands under your thighs, pressing your legs up until they meet your chest. Your eyes roll back and your walls convulse around his cock as you tumble over the edge.

Neteyam maintains his pace, fucking you through your release. He’s buried impossibly deep inside of you, watching the way he slides in and out of you at a brutal pace that only falters when his own climax hits him and he spills his seed inside of you..

He stills inside of you, catching himself with strong arms before falling on top of you. Both of you struggle to catch your breath as you come down from your highs. You feel cold and empty when he pulls out of you, the mixture of cum dripping out onto the mat as he rolls onto his back beside you.

Neither of you speak for what speaks for what feels like hours, but you know it has been barely minutes when his breathing returns to normal and he breaks the silence.

“Are you okay?”

You laugh and you really can’t help it.

“Tìyawn?” He rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow, gazing at you with concern as your laughter evolves into a sob that shakes your whole body. He reaches out for your face, but this time you stop him, catching his hand and pushing it away before he can touch you.

“Leave.” The force behind your voice surprises yourself as much as it does him. His brows furrow as he tries to work out if you’re serious. “Please, just go.”

You watch as he dresses himself, his movements slow and deliberate. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to call out for him, to ask him to stay, but you don’t. You watch as he throws you one last lingering glance over his shoulder before he leaves you.

And you’re truly alone.

taglist: @lili-of-the-dream,@arminsgfloll,@afro-hispwriter,@syulangg,@strongestangel,@jjkclub,@grxcisxhy-wp,@cl0esblogg,@thehalalboy,@avatarmasterlistblog,@violet-19999,@itzgabz22,@zeysartzone,@pandoraslxna,@samistars,@randxmthxughts,@zetianzz,@emery-333,@pixievers,@teyamsbitch,@iwantjaketosullyme,@amalaaaa11,@yetanotherattemptatanaccount,@mashiromochi,@aspen-sprout,@spicymayyo,@athenalikethegoddess,@daniinhell,@trippyoverrt,@bellaiscool,@iseeyouuu,@thehoneymushroomhealer,@prettyh4ppy,@itsfiive,@miri-belle,@neteyamsgirliefr,@bellaiscool@luvaerina,@ropickle,@kimzies,@eggnox,@neteyamyawne,@bakugouswaif,@lmpdd,@baahsaama,@littlelilies,@semi,@reilicaria,@amnmich,@sussybaka10

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mazeofyeni · 1 year

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( 📂 ) ... KAIA'S REALATIONSHIP WITH SKZ !

♡. BANG CHAN (seobang) !

when 16 year old chan met 12 year old kaia, the only thing on his mind was to protect the girl from anything harmful.

he packed her lunches for school; he walked her to school, he brought her food, and came to all the showcased she was in , people thought they were really brother and sister.

when jyp came to him about forming a group; she was the first person to come to mind, he went to her one day and the rest was history.

he's helped her a lot throughout the years, and he's always there for her when she needs it and is struggling.

♡. LEE KNOW (kaiho) !

wasn't too keen on a girl joining the group, but the second he met kaia all the discomfort went away.

something about the girl made him draw closer to her. the heartbreak she felt when he was eliminated was unreal.

he was more pissed off when she was eliminated than when he was eliminated.

a popular ship because of how much he takes care of her on and off camera, people who've met them says that minho always has kaia close by to make sure she doesn't get hurt.

♡. CHANGBIN (changa) !

sunshine and sunshine protector duo fr.

changbin has and will call out someone's weird behavior if he even senses that she is uncomfortable in any situation.

knows that she has a lot of stress of being the only girl and he tries to understand her when she's going through something and gives her the best advice that he could give.

and older brother figure, she probably has a better relationship with him than what she does with her own step-brother because she doesn't have any blood siblings.

♡. HYUNJIN (hyuna) !

the most dramatic duo you'd ever meet in your life.

lowkey didn't like each other during predebut days, he didn't understand why chan was so keen on her joining, he felt like adding a girl was unnecessary, and she didn't like the shade he was throwing so she kept away from him.

when they debuted, they were close, but not to the point where they rest were. they really connected during his hiatus.

they actually talked out their problems and they began to spend a lot of time together working through their issues, now they're bond has never been stronger.

♡. HAN JISUNG (kaisung) !

the only one jisung didn't have beef with when they were trainees.

because she'd come right back with the comments she wouldn't let win a single argument.

now they argue, but it's mostly for fun, he makes a smart comment and she gives him a kiss on the cheek just to annoy her, it's her way of letting him know that she isn't upset with him.

besides that, they understand each other on a level that maybe none of the other members do.

♡. FELIX (yonga) !

two babes with a lot of love to give. as

much as he wanted to get to know her, the poor baby didn't know how to communicate with her when they first met, due to his lack of confidence.

but it didn't stop her, she'd always come up to him and offer him food. she always spoke in english to make him more comfortable when he was still having trouble with it.

her personal moodmaker, she claims when he hugs her, it makes her mood go up 1000x more.

♡. SEUNGMIN (kaimin) !

a pain in her ass part 1, oh he knows how to get under skin, more than han does.

at first she thought he was making fun her her for real, so it made her upset, but then she realized the only way to beat him was to beat him at his own game.

so then it became this never ending thing, he annoys her and she annoys him.

but it's completely out of love, because then they also like to make fun of chan together (help him plz).

♡. JEONGIN (jeonga) !

a pain in her ass part 2, except she'll put him in a head lock if needed.

these two show love by physical touch, and i mean throwing hands with each other. regardless what they show on the camera,

people who went to the same school they did said that they spent most of their time together and were extremely friendly around each other.

except the three times she put him in a headlock and he dragged her by the ear down the hall.

©️MAZEOFYENI

#fictional idol addition #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #9th member of skz #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop oc #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids female addition #stray kids female member #skz female member #skz female addition #skz ninth member #9th member of stray kids #stray kids female oc #stray kids added member #skz added member

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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When MC Misses Their Sibling Headcanons | LUCIFER, MAMMON, LEVIATHAN, LUKE and SOLOMON 1.4k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Angst | Hurt and Not Much Comfort Content warnings: MC has a sibling(s) and there are implied feelings of isolation, depression, loneliness, poor treatment/bullying by the demon brothers, etc. Mentions of MC's hypothetical sibling that also misses them. The sibling mentioned isn't named/uses gender-neutral pronouns. A/N: I felt oddly emotional about my brother's birthday today so this happened.

LUCIFER

Lucifer knows about your human world family - he read your file when you were selected for the program. He understands why you don't want to be here, and why you keep demanding they send you home, but he reminds you that you were chosen.

He doesn’t tell his brothers about your family - you can tell them yourself when/if you want to.

He tries to show some leniency towards you while you adjust to living with his family in place of your own.

The longer you live in the Devildom, he sees part of himself in you when you step in to keep his brothers from causing too much trouble.

He’s almost proud of your defiance when you stand up to him on their behalf if you think he’s being unfair or cruel.

Did the Devildom bring out this protective streak in you, or were you this protective of your sibling too?

When he thinks you've finally accepted your place, you try to dote on him when you feel more sentimental and nurturing. He’s not used to someone else caring about him that way.

Likewise, you turn to him for support or protection when you feel intimidated or overwhelmed. He tries to minimize your hardship and suffering because it’s easier to do that than trying to comfort you later when the damage is already done.

He knows deep down that his family is a poor substitute for your own. Like most of the difficult decisions he has to make for the sake of the Devildom, he tells himself that bringing you here is for the greater good.

MAMMON

Mammon frustrates you because his idea of fun often descends into recklessness or chaos. You go along with a lot of his ideas, even if you don’t want to, because you’re desperate for companionship and a sense of belonging.

When Mammon’s schemes are too outlandish or outright dangerous for you to condone, you try to reason with him - sometimes he listens, sometimes he doesn’t.

Mammon hurts you when you first arrive. He butters you up and spends time with you as an excuse to search your room and take things he can pawn (or he just really likes something you have, and he wants it).

You catch him sometimes, or his brothers stop him, and he apologizes, but it takes a long time for you to believe his apologies are genuine. It's hard to trust him.

Things improve over time, especially after you make a pact with him - but you still wish he was less impulsive with his gambling and that he would stop trying to steal valuables from people.

(You know he doesn't really stop doing it because you ask him to - he just gets better at hiding it so you’re not too disappointed in him).

As his feelings for you continue to grow, Mammon tries to compensate for how he treated you before. He doesn’t want to be just a friend or just a brother in your eyes, and he refuses to believe he can't change your mind.

LEVIATHAN

Your sibling likes anime and games, and you like anime and games, so you think Levi might be the easiest of the demon brothers to connect with.

Well, you were wrong.

At first he wants nothing to do with you, and he insults you.

Later on, he decides to test you. He asks oddly specific questions about Devildom game titles - ones that don't exist where you come from - and he laughs and calls you a noob when you can’t answer any of them.

Levi is not like your sibling, because your sibling isn’t a gatekeeping asshole.

You and Levi do eventually bond over other things, and when he starts to trust you, he shares his anime and game collection with with you too.

He tells himself he doesn’t feel bad for how he treated you when you first arrived, but he still makes an effort to make up for it anyway.

No matter what he does, there’s a part of you deep down that never forgets how cruel he was to you. Your sibling would never do that to you is a thought that replays in your mind when you remember Levi's mockery.

You eventually forgive him, but those are some of the painful memories you dwell on when you feel homesick.

LUKE

It’s natural to feel protective of Luke, and he gravitates to your human nature and kind disposition.

You adopt him like he’s another sibling of your own, and you spend time with him outside of class and share your hobbies with him.

In turn, he invites you over to try a new dessert recipe, or to do homework together. He thinks he needs to keep an eye on you - he still doesn’t trust those demons you live with.

He notices that sometimes you start to call him a name he doesn’t recognize, but you catch yourself and pretend you didn't say anything. Sometimes you call him a name he doesn’t recognize and you don’t even notice.

He ignores it at first, but one day he gets curious and finally asks you who it is you’re speaking of. He lets you talk about your sibling as much or as little as you want - he doesn’t want to pry.

You feel guilty and reassure him that you like him for who he is, and you’re happy to have him as a friend. You smile and tell him your sibling would probably like him, too.

Later, you both pretend your eyes aren’t red and watery from crying. Luke declares you should help him make cookies, and he hopes the distraction helps you feel better.

When you leave for the evening, Luke is angry and Simeon can’t figure out why he's so upset. All Luke tells him is that those demons should be ashamed of themselves for what they put you through.

He becomes even more protective of you after that.

SOLOMON

Solomon is warned early on by Lucifer and Barbatos that due to security reasons, you’re not allowed contact with the human world, especially your friends and family.

He doesn’t understand why they bother telling him that, until you start asking him to try and contact your family for you.

At first he doesn't really care, but the more you try to bargain with him to do this for you, your desperation becomes unbearable.

You approach him one day with an envelope and an address and won't take no for an answer.

It’s just a birthday card for someone, I swear there’s nothing written inside that would jeopardize the Devildom, you can even read it if you want to. Please—?

He doesn’t make any promises (plausible deniability and all), but he does as you ask and visits the address you give him that same day.

It’s late afternoon when he arrives in front of an ordinary looking house, and he hears quiet conversation around the back. It’s easy enough to hide his presence and eavesdrop on whoever is in the backyard - curiosity gets the better of him.

Someone your age - or perhaps a bit younger - sits on the patio with an older couple. They have your smile, and their cheeks dimple the same way yours do. He realizes this is your sibling and parents.

There’s a small birthday cake on the table but the mood feels somber.

Your family falls into uncomfortable silences between random, trivial conversations. Your sibling glances at the empty chair next to them.

“Hey, where do you think…? Nevermind.”

Your very existence is something that they can’t even talk about, and their expressions are equally sorrowful and frustrated.

Solomon recalls seeing the same heartbroken expression on your face during all those times you complained to him about living in the Devildom.

Was this the best solution that Diavolo could come up with when they dragged you into the exchange program?

When Solomon leaves the envelope in the mailbox for your sibling to find, he feels like an accomplice to cruelty and wonders if there’s more he can do to help you.

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punkeropercyjackson · 1 month

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Man i just.Why do DC fans prioritize trans Jason over the actual representation in his story.Yes yes yes he has tons of transmasc swag so there's this he/they weird goth tboy so true but in CANON,almost all his important people are poc or women and every one of his love interests is BOTH and they're......completely erased in trans Jason headcanons,as if they can't perfectly co-exist

I've seen literally ZERO posts of Duke included in 'All Batboys are trans' in all my years as a Batman fan when he's Jason's favorite brother.No Talia helping out with adjusting to his Lazarus Pit testosterone and surgeries combo when HER FAMILY OWNS IT and when SHE WAS THERE WHEN HE GOT THROWN IN.T4T Jaytemis/Jayrose?Nonexistent and nobody even aknowledges they're a part of his lore while also complaining about lack of female characters because they refuse to seek them out so they can focus on their female coded binary white boy.Him and Stephanie being transmasc/transfem solidarity as found trans siblings?I may as well be dreaming if i ever see get to see it.I can't even enjoy the ones of him with Dick and Damian unless it's just them because it's genuinely so upsetting to see Tim too but no Duke.And i'm not gonna touch on the all loads of smut that claim to be representation but are actually fetishizing with ZERO respect or care for his transmasculinity other than i hope y'all get over that internalized trans*phobia soon and that fuckass transmisogyny with your minus zero inclusion of transfems,be it canon girls or egg headcanons

It literally dosen't matter if you make Jason trans if you erase everything THAT'S ALREADY THERE.As a black trans femme,i don't want your whitewashed bullshit.Jason is already rep-He's poor and mentally ill with ptsd and implied cluster b disorder(s)and with the add on of the afrolatino side of the DC fandom claiming him i'm good with those but y'all erase THAT too by making him rich by Bruce given nepotism baby status and a million other things you've made up because you just can't stomach the thought of some peasent being your fave,you woobify him by downplaying his symptoms so he can be your lil bad boy bf you can fix with your coquettish wiles or whatever the fuck and you don't see him as afrolatino because of a connection and relatability like we do but because you think it adds 'spice' to him or are a snowbunny or both.He's still him if he's cis but he's not himself if dosen't have those traits i said because they're actually fucking canon and believe it or not,canon IS better sometimes and you'd know that if you bothered to read and watch it

Jason's story is NOT a trans metaphor.Jason's story is about grief and poverty and trauma and the poc and women and woc he loves and cherishes and this is why so many of us irl love him.It's not Jason's story if there's no Talia or Dick or Damian or Rose or Artemis or Stephanie or DUKE,who IS a Batboy,who IS a Robin,who IS Jason's FAVORITE,NONE of who are options for him but the people he actively CHOOSES to have as parts of his life.Jason's story is NOT about YOU.Not everything is

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audreyscribes · 2 months

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🌈IRIS: Goddess of Rainbows, Messenger of the gods☮

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version! As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

When you get claimed, rainbows appear over you and cast you like the faint rainbow light you see when the sun hits the window pane. If it’s outdoors, it doesn’t matter what the weather is like, there’s a rainbow overhead that follows you.

If you were around before the Titan war and are there as you hear a cabin will be constructed, Iris doesn’t wait as she immediately claims all of her children. All of them. All at once. There’s a massive explosion of rainbows that flash everyone and you get hit with even confetti and sprinkles for extra touch. There’s even glitter. Your skin is covered with a thin sheen of glitter…or its Iris claim effect. Your skin is absolutely glowing. If you were indoors with other children of Iris, well…oh gods, those unfortunate poor souls. If you’re outside, the light and rainbows are more spread out and there’s a double rainbow above in the sky.

You’re colourful one way or another. Inside, outside, outward, inward, it’s genetic.

Have you seen those weapons that have that rainbow-like colour on the metal? Yeah, it’s a signature of a child of Iris to wield one. It’s not only representative of who they are but also the rainbow scheming has a use that only applies to a child of Iris. What is it you ask? Well, you’re going to have to find that yourself. There won’t be an enemy or foe that faces a child of Iris that will be able to tell you.

“Beware the anger of a patient man” except more like “never make an enemy of a peaceful person”? Yeah, never get a child of Iris mad. Much like a child of Demeter, you really don’t want to break the straw over the camel’s back.

You and your other half-siblings all have a favourite colour, but now imagine having a favourite hue, tint, shade- It’s not uncommon for each colour group to debate that their favourite colour is superior, for then to only debate within that colour group which shade/tint of that colour is superior. Even monochrome colour isn’t off the table either.

There’s a good chance you or your other siblings will have Synesthesia: where stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway, specifically Projective Synesthesia that have a connection with colour. Like experience colour when when listening to music, assigning colours to the days of the calendar, tasting or smelling colour, etc-

All except for one universal thing though. You know Skittles and their “Taste the Rainbow”? Yeah. That. There’s a reason for that. An Iris child coined that. You all get free, lifetime skittles.

You just know what photoshop colour code, pantone, and every other official colour assignment on the spot. Very handy at times.

Tye-dyeing is a very common activity at the Iris cabin. You guys regularly hold workshops with the other campers like a normal camp. In fact, dyeing and altering colours is a child of Iris’ speciality. Heck, they can even dye their own hair and eyes at will (within reason tho. Consequences of such things may apply or not. I.e. you may give yourself red or purple eyes but you also might be affected with the downfalls of being albino).

There have been times where such colouring effects have disastrous moments though. It’s no secret that a child of Iris can take away colour as much as they can give colour. One time, a child of Iris got so depressed and angry they made everything and everyone monochrome. It was…a thing. Children of Hypnos were not happy being affected by the lack of colours in theirs and everyone’s dreams, letting everyone experience what dreams were like before colour television was a thing.

You have great communication skills, one way or another. Whether it’s vocal communication, literary communication, or whatever, you communicate well, and there’s no miscommunication. Miscommunication is the bane of an Iris child and they will not stand for it.

You all get a toll free call with the Iris messages, which is always a perk. But you do have to at least call Iris every so often, or visit/help her at her stores. Call it parent and child bonding time. That and also giving feedback on her organic products. The organic cookies were fine though.

Speaking of Iris, she’s probably one of the most chill, accepting, and free form parents out there. Of course she’s still a parent and you are subjected to the usual parent behaviour, but like dialled back. You can talk to her about anything, and it is usually done with anything. Sure, she may need some time to come around but it's less wrapping her mind around it, it's just her going, “Okay. Okay. Well as long you’re happy and safe” kind of deal. Coming out to her about anything is still nerve wracking but you know she has your support. Given it’s very ethical, not dangerous, and all that. Cause you know, parents.

Your flag is the rainbow flag. Interpret that how you want and however you will.

Every so often, you and your siblings will gather together and travel together to the end of the rainbow, to find a pot of golden drachmas. You all came to the consensus that it’s Iris giving you allowances. Though, be prepared just in case there are leprechauns at the end of the rainbow.

You blinked at all the technicolour happening all around you. There was a mini rainbow over you and it shimmered down what looked like glitter. You moved your hands and you caught a faint shimmer on it that was noticeable but not an eyesore. If you didn’t know better you thought you had put on dusting of powder.

Your ears faintly heard murmuring, some yelling going “I can’t see!”, among the congrats on your claim by Iris. It was slight but you could hear the slight mocking tone that your mother was Iris, the goddess of Rainbows. You made a frown as the feeling in your gut became uncomfortable.

You went to yell at the person mocking you until you saw this large boy who had a buzz cut haircut step forward through the crowd. He watched him give a scowl at the gossiper who let out a squeaky “eep!” cowering away as they shut up.

He glared at them a bit longer before his head whipped to look at your direction. The sudden movement made you flinch and tense up, and when you thought he was simply looking in your direction, he looked at the floating claim above your head before looking down from it and landed his eyes on you.

You felt sweat bullet out of you as he made his way over to you. You wondered who this guys was as he stepped right in front of you. You stood there, waiting for what was going to happen next as he inspected you; you looked at his appearance, taking in his muscular stature and the almost shaved head. Then you wondered: was he a child of Ares or one of the obnoxious demigods? A small flame of rage began to kindle as you remembered something; how people undermine Iris as a weaker goddess because she was the goddess of rainbows. Then you had the thought that he may be a bully demigod, here to assess you and reaffirm that every child of Iris was weak.

You hardened your resolve and it showed in your eyes. You stared at the person in front of you, your spine straightening as you did. You weren’t going to let anyone think you or your godly parent were any lesser because of their perceptions. You would show them. The two of you stared each other down before he let out a smirk. For a moment, you immediately tensed your muscles for a beatdown but then he gave a satisfying nod.

“Good, you have resolve,” he praised which threw you in a loop and made you confused. He thumbed towards the onlookers and looked back at them with a disapproving look, making them flinch in embarrassment. “Look, don’t let anyone put you down and make you feel any lesser because of our mother being the Goddess of Rainbows. Iris is just as important as the other gods and is responsible for the Iris communication, which everyone uses. Keep your head up proud.”

You blinked at him as his words seemed to settle the nasty feeling in you. It was still there but…

“I’ll try” you admitted as he nodded, “Um, not to be rude, but who may you be?” you asked.

“I’m Butch Walker, son of Iris and cabin leader of the Iris cabin” he introduced and stuck out his hand. You took it numbly as you realised what he was saying.

“Wait, so that means you’re my…?-”

“Yup. I’m also your half-sibling. So if someone has a problem with you, don’t worry about it cause I got your back.” He also leaned closer and gave a sneaky grin, “And Chiron is good terms with our mom too, so if people try something, they won’t just suffer one’s wrath.”

You smiled as you put more strength in your shake. He grinned with more teeth, before he patted your shoulder, a bit strongly I might add, and guided you away from the crowd. They parted before you as rainbows shimmered in your wake. “Let me help you get settled in the cabin, and when we have time, I’ll show you the pegasus.”

“Pegasus?” you said a bit excitedly.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “Pegasus riding lessons aren’t usually allowed for most but since I’m a pegasus rider, I’m allowed to recommend those who have the talent or interest in it” he said.

“That’s so cool…I’m willing to give it a try though” you admitted.

Butch looped an arm around your shoulder and shook it, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you the reins.”

You nodded and you took a few steps before you realised his puns.

“Hey-”

Butch let out a laugh as you couldn’t help smiling a little bit at it.in

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jointhepartypod · 1 year

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Welcome to the World of Verda Stello! 🌱 🏴☠️

Campaign 3 of Join the Party is set in the world of Verda Stello, the great green ringed world. This fantastical land is filled with approximately human-sized plant and bug people (give or take some 2 foot tall fruits and giant vines) called the Greenfolk. The main source of life for Verda Stello is the Cascade, a massive waterfall that pours over the whole inner ring of the world.

Over time, the Cascade dried up, leaving all the Greenfolk scrambling for water. But the waterfall revealed the entire center of Verda Stello was a great salt sea, dotted with countless unknown islands, and a prophecy about an Infinite Lake that can save the world and a Salmon that grants your deepest desire.

This kicked off the Tide, a pirate era that has raged for 50 years. People are still searching for the lake and the salmon, and the Tide shows no sign of stopping now.

Find out more about Verda Stello and Campaign 3 here!

The Hothouse

Country’s Motto: Why Suffer When We Can Strive

Known for their ingenuity and extensive construction, the Hothouse is the technological hub of Verda Stello. Hothousers believe that finding the best way to do something is its own greatest reward (except for letting everyone know that you did it with a plaque or statue or signature). You might recognize Hothouse architecture with the incorporations of big windows or a solarium, amplifying the sun to do extra work for you. The ruler of the Hothouse is The Builder, someone who is recognized as the best and the smartest through a series of public and brutal competitions of mind and might.

The official Hothouse Flag was designed by the first Builder, Appleton the Original. The triangle represents the hothouse, as you might have guessed, but the doubled triangle is a symbol of so many values that Hothousers hold dear. Appleton was known for his patience and care when erecting and planning the major monuments of the Hothouse capital, so scholars and politicians say the doubled triangle meant, “measure twice, cut once.” But it can be interpreted as broadly as “quality over quantity” or “do it right the first time,” as double-paneling the triangle is stronger than many triangles in a line. What is most intriguing is the intersection of the symbolic hothouse and the sun itself, putting them in concert, or at least as two parts of the whole. The construct is not subservient to the sun. In fact, they are relatively the same, as a sibling or partner encouraging the other to be better than they could have been alone.

Open Fields

Country’s Motto: Reap What Is Sown

The people of Open Fields feel the deep connection between themselves and the ground, giving themselves strong perseverance and belief. This allows them to stare at the strangeness of existence in the face, such as how they can harvest produce and greens for sustenance even if it looks exactly like them. Open Field families show this devotion by naming themselves after virtues (in a Puritan sort of way) and both fervently praying and farming.

Unfortunately, there is no definitive account of how the Open Fields’ flag came to be. Many leaders have invoked various legends and parables, usually involving a poor potato farmer, resistance of temptation, and then divine inspiration. One version of the story says the pattern appeared in a bowl of mashed potatoes, when the butter and the mash was swirled together in the bowl. Another version supposes the farmer tried to harvest one of his crop but could not, and only through the collective strength of the entire farmer’s family and friends did they put the largest tuber ever recorded, with the design outlined in the eyes of the potato. The only record of the creation and adoption of the current design comes from the journal of a monk known as Saying-Thank-You-Meaningfully-For-an-Unexpected-Gift-No-Matter-What-It-Is. It seems that Saying’s closest friend at the monastery made woodcuts as a hobby, and created the sun-on-top, shovel-on-bottom image. That night, Saying wrote in their journal, “Saw an interesting image today. Must be the divine.” The colors–especially the deep red, unique in the flags of Verda Stello–and how it became the symbol of the entire country, remains unknown.

Kingdom of the Crags

Country’s Motto: We Cover All

The Crags is the most Game of Thrones out of all of the countries. They find strength in dealing with adversity and sacrificing comfort for something greater. They explore their land, find the great thing that it does, and work with it (whether obsidian from lava or a fruit that gives you the strength of 10 in a mountain or a glowing mushroom in a crevasse). Over time, many families have formed into houses and territories, which has then led to a revolving door of kings and queens as the houses vie for power. As the Craggish saying goes, “Everyone has their purpose, and the royals are dying.”

The modern version of the Crags flag (say that five times fast) was established over six hundred years ago, at the signing of the Brevi Pax. Short for “brevi pax pugnantibus,” or “short peace between combatants” in middle Folkish, it was supposed to be a document that finally codified the system of governance in the Crags and illustrated all rights for Craggish citizens regardless of ruler. At the time of its signing, it was just Pax Pugnantibus, but the Brevi was added after Queen Opaline V was slain by her three sisters only ten days after the document was signed.

Although the peace did not remain, the rights of citizens stayed, as well as a specific agreed-upon design for the Craggish flag, The purple emphasizes the strength of the ruling families, while the white V and the black background stands in for the hard landscape where the people make their homes. There’s an interesting optical trick too; the sprout is in the dead center, but the crag makes it seem lower; what appears worse to others is exactly where the Crags knows is best.

Many of the sigils of the houses in the Crags use inversions or additions of this flag to bolster their claims for royal legitimacy, but they do not risk changing too much as would alienate themselves from the existence of the state. They are not above the kingdom and the Rocky Seat, as there would be nothing to rule.

Overstalk

Country’s Motto: Carry Your Roots

The future lives in Overstalk, but it might linger as more of a dream than actually getting it done. Overstalk is the home of the philosophers, a quixotic solarpunkish country. This led to a vibrant merchant culture, so you buy what you need since we’re philosophizing over here. The beating heart of Overstalk is the Stacked City of Skyreach (think the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but a whole city), where radical but sometimes dangerous ideas flourish and fester.

The historians of Overstalk delight in explaining the symbology of their flag to others, as the metaphor of each color and symbol were, if you will pardon the pun, dyed right into it when the Fourth Congress of the Representatives commissioned local textile artist Cablin Pogostemon to create it. On the left side, the yellow represents the warmth and energy of the sun (but modern philosophers would argue that the top band is ascribed to the mercantile success of the region). The cream is the color of a yellowing page of a book, representing study, while the gray is the smoke of incense, representing spiritualism. As the cream and the gray interest each other and the yellow, you cannot forget the mind for the spirit or vice versa, and they are both integral to day-to-day living (or for modern interpretation, business dealings). The right side is the vertical expansion of Overstalk, as high as the stars themselves.

This is the only flag in Verda Stello to use green, which some suppose signifies Overstalk’s high view of themselves as compared to the other countries.

Maybe Cablin knew this when they designed the flag, as it came with explicit instructions to never be hung up-and-down, with the stars at the top. It is considered a deep political insult to hang the flag in this way… but it has been accidentally turned during some particularly prickly international visits.

#ttrpg #actual play #actual play podcast #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #DND #dnd homebrew #campaign 3 #hothouse #overstalk #the crags #open fields

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xoxo-sarah · 8 months

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Deserved it

↝a/n: I need a better title for this. Also this has been in my notes app for so long and I've been too scared to post it.

↝pairing:Steve Harrington x fem!Hargrove!reader

↝ Warning: Billy, Reader is Billy's twin sister, angst , fighting, blood, arguing, slight smut, making out, not proofread

↝⎙ 9.9.23

"I have a hard time believing that." Oh- your smile. How could you look so much like Billy, yet so different? In a good way, of course. One thing that you didn't physically have that was the same was your smile. Yours was, well, nicer. More friendly. Less intimidating.

"I'm serious! Look- ask Nance." If you didn't know any better, you'd probably say he was practically begging you to believe him.

"I dunno, I just can't picture a guy like you being a ladies man."

"Okay, ouch."

Laughing, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of playfully picking on this poor soul.

"I was literally known as King Steve-"

"Bull."

That's how it all started. Playful banter between a kid who peaked in highschool and a new girl who had everyone's eyes on her and her own brother. Apparently, your family moving to Hawkins was a huge favor for everyone. You're welcome. You'd probably tell everybody, given the chance.

•••••

"Stay away from that Harrington boy." Billy puffed at his cigarette, before flicking it absentmindedly onto the dry ground.

"Steve-"

"Oh, first name basis now?" He scoffed, drumming his fingers on the car roof.

"He-"

"-Is trouble. He's looking for some dumb broad to pick up and have a good time."

"Billy, I don't really care what you think. And even if I was into him, that isn't any of your business." He slammed his hands down on the roof of the car, making you jump.

"Y/n," Billy tsked, "you are a lot of things, but a dumb slut isn't one of 'em. Now get in the car." Before you could respond, he sat down in the driver's seat, starting the engine.

Slamming the door, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned around.

Billy threw his arms up and huffed as he watched you walk away. Grabbing another cigarette, he lit it, letting you walk a bit ahead before he started driving. If you were going to act like a brat, he was going to treat you like one. He wasn't one to give in to anyone, but you had moments that made his cold heart ache for you, he was always going to be there for you, but only for you. You literally shared a womb together. There's obviously a connection that no amount of sibling back-and-forth could wilt, right?

Hearing an engine roaring, you didn't need to glance back to know who it was. Billy slowed, looking at your side profile, noting your sour expression. "C'mon, Cookie. The weather isn't looking too promising for you to be acting like this." Cookie. The nickname he had made up when he caught you stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar that was on top of the fridge. You were lucky he was the one who caught you. If it had been Neil, you wouldn't have gotten the cookie and a new nickname out of it.

"Fuck off, William."

That, right there, pissed him off to no end.

He sped past you, kicking rocks and dirt behind as he went, swerving in and out of the lane to taunt you.

You scoffed, "Fuckin' dick."

"Watch the floor!" Stopped in your tracks, it took everything in your being to not spin around and smack the shit out of Neil. Here you stood, soaked head to toe, along with your backpack and everything in it, and he was worried about the floor.

"I'll try to keep the water from falling until I get to my room." Giving him a fake smile, you marched to your room, slamming the door.

Almost as soon as the door shut, it opened again and Billy came in. He had to of just came out of the shower, steam rolling off his skin. Walking over to your desk, he picked up your deodorant.

"What do you want now?" You practically barked.

He held his free hand up, "Relax. I ran out." He harshly applied the stick with his other hand.

Yanking the stick from his hand, you scowled. "Buy your own. Get out."

"I don't have any money." He yanked it back, lathering his other armpit."

"Get. A. Job." You now harshly yanked it.

"I have a job, I just haven't gotten paid yet."

"That sucks for you. Get out, now."

"I don't think I will." Billy pulled out your desk chair, running his fingers through his wet curls.

"I will scream at the top of my lungs if you don't get your ass out now."

"Fine, whatever. Don't forget to clean the water up." Looking down, you watched as more water continued to drip from your soaked clothes to the hardwood flooring.

The deodorant went hurling against the door and clanked against the floor as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Stop slamming the doors!"

The feelings of wanting to claw at your skin was intensifying each time your father opened his mouth.

You were in deep need of a relaxer.

•••••

"Billy would kill me- mmph~" As soon as Steve's lips pulled away, yours were chasing them.

"Shut up."

"M'kay." His hands tightened on your thighs as he felt your hips wiggle and closing against his own. Moaning as your pulled at his hair, he didn't have time to be embarrassed. He wanted you. Needed you. Right now.

You had gotten dried off and practically ran to the Harrington's. At first, it was just to blow off some steam, vent, if you will. But Steve had gotten some weed off of a friend and who were you to say no? A relaxer is a relaxer. Things got a little out of hand and you ended up saying a few things no sober person should ever admit. It didn't take much green for you to end up like you were. You were going to blame the plant either way.

Your other hand slid under his shirt, feeling the skin and hair under it. You groaned against his lips, feeling him unbutton your jeans.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, helping you pull his shirt over his head and throw it somewhere on the floor. His hands went back to your thighs as your lips went down his neck, starting at his jaw and going behind his ear and down. You kissed his body as if you were praising it. Every touch of your soft hands left a fire-hot trail, begging for your lips to follow with a cooling effect.

This is surely heaven, he thought.

Steve made a sound, causing you to quickly pull back just as quickly as you had put your hand in his pants and moved lower down his body. Be slowly shook his head, shifting in the seat. "Mmm, no. I want to touch you." Your unsure expression quickly vanished, replaced with a wicked smirk.

"Yeah? How?"

Steve was so glad he has matured from his King Steve days. Younger him would never take the time to worship a woman's body. But yours, oh God, yours deserved every bit of praise and everyone should worship your perfectly imperfect body. Every stretch mark, every crevice, every indent that society deemed 'ugly'. Hell no. He was set on showing you just how much he adored you and your body.

•••••

Steve chased after you, having trouble keeping up. "I didn't - I didn't mean for this to-"

"Stop following me."

"Cookie, please."

You spun around, a look of fury in your eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Stop following me." You repeated, "I never want to see you ever again."

"This wasn't supposed to happen- not like this."

"Oh please, stop with this bullshit." Steve had to stop himself from wincing at the choice of words. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. "Imagine how humiliating this is for me."

"It was stupid! Carol and Tommy-they made some stupid bet and I was drunk and I just couldn't say no for some stupid fucking reason. Please,"

It was true, they were all plastered when the bet was made. You had just shown up, a fresh face and already the talk of the town. Every boy in their grade had said something about you and your body. At first, Steve ignored the cruel, disgusting words and acted like your arrival didn't affect him. You two hadn't talked much, but he had heard the way you talked to Billy, someone you had literally known since birth, your sweet voice yet snippy remarks.

Carol had made some jab, and Tommy had found it weird when Steve didnt laugh. Sure, they had grown apart, but it wasn't that long ago when Steve would make those same remarks. The liquid courage had Steve argue with Tommy on how you would totally not date Steve or anyone like him. The next morning, the terrible hangover has Steve promising himself to never drink again. The horrid memories haunted him until he got to school. Tommy had a group of preppy kids huddles around Steves locker. Apparently, Tommy had opened his mouth and spilled out all of what Steve had said. Multiple guys clapped and went to high-five. "King Steve is back!" What was he supposed to do? Almost everyone knew about what he had said, well, not you or Billy. God. Billy would kill me, he thought.

He was surprised no one had told you when you walked though the school doors. Everyone kept quiet, until 3 weeks later. To be honest, Steve had forgotten about it. Or tricked himself into thinking so. At the beginning, you guys getting closer was purely for the bet, but you were so quick witted, so smart, so pretty, so easy to talk to.

Carol didn't keep quiet for long. Just as you and Steve got so close, skin to skin, breath to breath, heart to heart, Carol had gushed about how Steve actually won some bet. Confused, you listened as both Carol and Tommy told you all about it and about what Steve had said. It didn't help that so many people were standing around, watching everything go down. Steve was lucky Billy wasn't there at that moment either.

He tried to reach for your hands, sighing in defeat when you yanked them away. "Please. I can't- we have something good."

"Do we? You embarrassed- humiliated me. You let it happen. No matter what we have done, it never meant as much to you as it did to me."

"It did. It does. Everything we did meant everything to me. Y/n, please."

"She warned me about you, ya know. Everyone did."

"What?"

"Nancy. She warned me about you. You only ever want one thing."

He was at a loss of words, flabbergasted. "What?"

"You got it. So you can leave me alone now."

Steve watched as you walked away, mouth hung open. He didn't know whether to go after you, or marinate in what you had said.

What did Nancy say and why?

Turning a corner in the supermarket, you didn't expect to almost run into something, or someone. "Shit-sorry."

The girl waved you off, fixing her hair. She looked up, watching as you picked up the loaf of bread you had dropped.

"Y/n, right? Billy and Max's sister."

You looked at her curiosity. "Yeah, you?"

"Nance. Nancy."

"Nancy Wheeler?" Her cheeks became red. You had heard of her.

"Steve has told me alot about you."

Oh.

Her face fell a little. "What has he said?"

Alarm showed on your face. He hadn't specifically talked about her, just about how they used to be together and how she could vouch for him being a total took a year or two back.

"Oh, just about how you were together."

Well, this is awkward.

"Yeah." Yeah.

"Ya know, he told me to ask you about his King Steve days." Her own face didn't have the same playful smile yours did. It was unsettling.

"Did he now?"

You looked at her confused, what had you just unleashed?

Apparently it was a lot.

•••••

Steve tried everything to get you to talk to him. He called, never getting an answer, or when someone did pick up, it was either your dad, the clueless mom of Max, or Billy. He brought you flowers that stayed on your porch and rotted. He tried talked to you in school. He never got a response out of you. It was as if you didn't see him.

He deserved it.

One night, he thought it would be a good idea to try one more time when the parents left for date. You were surely home, he didn't know about Max and Billy, but he didn't really care.

He knocked on the door, 1, 2, 3 times.

"Y/, come on, please! I'm sorry!" His head dropped against the door. He was desperate at this point. Even if you opened the door and told him you hated his guts, he would be beyond grateful to just hear your voice on last time. He'd understand you.

Hearing someone making their way to the door, he fixed his posture, waiting.

Right after the door opened, a blow was delivered straight to Steve's left cheek. He staggered back, his back hitting a pole keeping the screening up around the porch.

"You gonna make another bet about my sister, Harrington? You just can't leave her alone, can you?"

Billy's hands continued to pushed at Steve, pushing him further off the porch and into the yard. Insult after insult was thrown at Steve, he could only take it, keeping his mouth shut. He deserved it.

"William!"

Was he hearing things? Had Billy hit him one too many times? Your sweet voice rang through his head, bouncing around, wrapped his throbbing brain in a silk bandage, kissing it better as if it was a simple scratch. "Get off of him! Damn it!" The blows at Steve's side stopped. This time, Billy went staggering back after you had pushed him off of the hunched over boy.

You were too nice.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Billy bellowed. He threw his bloody hands up towards Steve. "You're gonna let him get away with humiliating you?"

"You're gonna kill him!" You made a point to look at the blood dripping from his knuckles and then to Steve's bleeding nose and swelling eye.

"He deserves it!"

"That is not your place!" Billy closed his mouth, looking at you in pure disbelief. You had just yelled at him, truly raised your voice, not one ounce of familiarity behind those eyes that burned in hatred. Your eyes softened, biting your lip before going to apologize. "Billy," before you could continue, he stomped towards the house, bumping into Max, who watched the whole thing.

After looking at the door, contiplating what to do next. You would deal with Billy later. Steve had to be gone by the time your father got back.

"What we had-"

" ‘what we had’? We fucked, Steve. That's it." You sounded tired, exhausted.

Steve stood hunched over, at a loss of words. It wasn't just a simple fuck. There was something there. He felt it, surely you did too. Your bodies fit together too perfect for a simple fling. His hands wouldn't remember every curve of your body for a simple fuck that didn't mean anything what so ever. He refused to take that for an answer. Even if it took a while to show you that you did mean more, he'd do just that.

"Alright."

He turned, walking towards his car.

"Steve," you called out, "you're hurt-"

"I got it."

He didn't waste any time getting in his car and leaving.

If you wanted space, he'd give you space. He'd find a way to make it up to you, even if it took a lot of time and a lot of different ideas and apologies. You both needed time to heal, emotionally and physically.

-----------

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

#🕶️#steve Harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x you #steve Harrington x hargrove!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfic #xoxo-sarah 🩷

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