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#sense-oars
unhumanrights · 7 months
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GIFs from Lower Decks S01E04, "Moist Vessel" (again, sorry if you hate that word)
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opbackgrounds · 5 months
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I mean, it is dead, so...
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thychesters · 6 months
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these are the fights i love, the ones where you watch all of the straw hats band together and they each have their own unique role in it. they all play to one another's strengths--harkening back to zoro's remark to chopper back in alabasta that each of them does what they can, and then says here you go, do what i can't to the next crew member. franky can't do this, but sanji can; sanji can't do that, but chopper can. and you watch these plans unfold with such minute communication too--there's no huddle in the middle of the battlefield, just watching some pairs break off and the rest of the crew being able to pick up their next moves with hardly missing a beat. it's not picking up one another's slack or playing a supporting role--it's just being part of a team, of a crew where they all rely on one another and willingly acknowledge that. it's not fighting one straw hat, it's fighting every single one of them, and they have every intention to win.
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kurokoros · 1 year
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I’m sorry but “eddie has beaten people up before” is actually the most hysterical take I’ve seen because that man is all bark and no bite
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sharedtrauma · 2 years
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Love Steve’s description compared to the clips in the trailer. The character description really said go girl give us nothing
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i'm rewatching some scenes from s4 while i'm working on part two and damn i keep finding more nonsense writing the more i watch this show
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cronagorgonzola · 2 months
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I think Spock in Strange New Worlds should have a slight Boston accent and say "sensors" like "sensuhs"
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jakexneytiri · 1 year
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na’vi language i would love to see being used in fics:
yawntutsyìp - darling, little loved one
yawne - beloved
tìyawn - love
‘awsiteng- together
yawnetu / yawntu - loved one, lover, beloved person
atan - light, source of illumination
syulang - flower
muntxate - wife, female spouse
muntxatan - husband, male spouse
txe’lan - heart
tsamsiyu - warrior
oeyä - my (possessive)
sevin - pretty (mainly for female)
sayrìp - handsome, good looking
lor - beautiful, pleasant to the senses
yuey - beautiful (inner beauty)
narlor - beautiful visually
tsawke - sun
oare - moon
letsranten - important
tanhì - star, bioluminescent freckle
hì'i - small, little
flrr - gentle, mild, tender
tìmuntxa - mating, marriage
kalin - sweet to the taste
paskalin - honey (term of endearment)
tstew - brave
mowan - pleasing, enjoyable (physically, sexually)
manga - hey, hey you
nga - you
ngatsyìp - little you, you little
fahew - smell
onlor - good smelling
lu - be, am, is, are
vonvä’ - butthole, asshole, dickhead (requested)
nìwotx - all (of)
mei - wet
fìtxan - so
source:
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Video
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https://www.futureelectronics.com/m/tt-electronics-bi-technologies. TT Electronics OARS Open Air Sense Resistors offer compliant terminations that allow them to expand and contract with the PC board's thermal cycling, enabling them to meet or exceed the 1000-2000 cycles required by most automotive manufacturers. The unique lead form of the OARS resistors provides an inherent advantage in compliance to the mechanical stress caused by thermal cycling. https://youtu.be/Yfi0i8RtMXw
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frost-queen · 23 days
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My mortal flaw // part 4 (Reader x Zuko)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget,
@ficsmoothie, @reallysparklychaos, @deafeningartisancandy, @multifandom-lover01, @smilefortae, @bravelittlebastard, @mysticwitchcraftco, @roseazura, @katie-tibo, @savannah0111, @defnotriri, @darkened-writer, @avrilh, @anea08, @mymoonempress, @tcey0, @romantic-reader, @lionheart178, @pink-www, @aloe-7, @tomblythslut, @camilo-uwu, @lunalixya, @karmaswitch, @vewnyy, @h33seungs-babe, @junieshohoho, @buggs-1, @elakari
Summary: Returning to a massive city in the earthkingdom. The three of you are rather greeted with brutal force... from fire benders. What might cause them to lash out to the fire prince and what will this mean for the future. [ part 1  & part 2 & part 3 ]
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The ship neared land. You stood at the railing, still feeling a bit out of sense. You weren’t your full self yet. Still recovering from the Northern water tribe battle. Turning your head you caught Zuko arriving on deck. His fire nation clothing set aside. Settling for something plain. More natural to the earth kingdom colours. It made you look at your own clothing for a moment. Stating it so obvious you were from the water tribes. The brightest blue and silver.
Zuko went over to the other side, watching a small boat be lowered into the waters to head for land. Not a moment later came Iroh in sight. No sign of his fire nations colours as well. It made you wonder for a moment if you needed to change as well. One of the soldiers approached you. – “Princess.” – he greeted with a bow. He then gestured at Zuko and Iroh, who were waiting to get on the boat.
You gave him a respective nod before following him to the boat. Iroh took you by the arm, moving you forwards. – “Are you sure you are up for it?” – Iroh asked. – “Yes.” – you told him, not wanting them to be on their own. Also you didn’t want to look weak in front of them.
You got helped down in the boat. Iroh already sitting down with you. Looking up, you saw Zuko speak to his closest soldier. Slipping him something as it made you wonder what it was. Zuko then made his way down. You decided not to ask about it. Iroh handed an oar over to Zuko. They wanted to set it in the water as you got up, undoing yourself from your cloak.
With a deep sigh you sometimes wondered if they were truly dumb or just pretending to be. – “Put the oars down boys.” – you told them. Zuko and Iroh gave each other a glance. – “Princess you are not fully healed yet… let us row.” – Iroh suggested. You didn’t want to hear it. You could easily bring them to shore in a few minutes, while their rowing might take you hours.
“I’m not made of glass.” – you commented taking a stand in the centre of the boat. – “Y/n sit down!” – Zuko ordered bothered. You puffed loud, swaying your hands. The boat got pushed through the water, making Zuko fall back. Annoyed he grabbed onto the railing.
The water rippled smoothly around the boat as you steered it to land. Iroh enjoying the breeze. Zuko sitting with his arms crossed, moping grumpily. In a matter of minutes, you arrived at land. Iroh and Zuko pushed the boat further onto land to hide. You left your coat in the boat as it wasn’t cold anymore. – “Where are we going?” – you asked joining Zuko and Iroh.
“Anywhere!” – Zuko responded bitsy. Rolling with your eyes, you followed them further into the earth kingdom. After a while of wandering the forests, you started to recognized bits and pieces of previous travels. You had been here before not so long ago. Once you found a pathway, you knew enough.
Seeing the mountain of a city up head. Omashu. Frowning you wondered where all the people were. People used to line up to the gates to try and enter. Now it was deserted. You didn’t appear to be the only one confused, as Iroh was as equally confused yet didn’t commented on it. Zuko was leading the way.
Bushes ruffled as it made Zuko and Iroh take a stand. You turned around taking a stand for yourself to protect them from behind. There was more rustling till some men appeared from behind it. Zuko and Iroh lowered their firm hands with a soft sigh. They were fire nation soldiers. – “It’s the prince!” – one of them called out loud. Something about their tone alerted you.
Two or three men joined as they performed a sequence to conjure fire. Iroh and Zuko stumbled confused back. You tensed your jaw pushing between them as their fire unleashed. Moving your hands across, you caught the fire with a stream of water. They were shocked for a moment. Your expression turned serious, staring coldly at them.
“What is going on?” – Iroh called out confused why some of their own would attack. – “This is Prince Zuko!” – he told them. The soldiers ignored Iroh’s talk, pushing their fists forwards to blast fire at them. You held your hands in front of you, blocking the fire with a wave of water. Zuko grunted loud with a shout, letting his hands blaze fire.
Zuko threw fire at them with loud grunts of anger. Iroh joined keeping himself composed while he bended. Two of them turned their attention to you. Chuckling thinking this would be an easy win. You smiled witty back at them before letting water swish around you. Swiping your hands below while you spun, sweeping them off their feet with water.
A little change of your hand posture made the water go cold and turn into ice. You caught Zuko stumbling back, arms up as he blocked a wave of fire. You rushed over to him as Zuko lowered his hands. Doing a little jump, you moved your leg from up to down as you had seen Zuko do numerous times. A stream of water slashing the soldier like a whip.
The soldier got whipped to the ground. Zuko stared with wide eyes at you, recognizing the fire bending move. Zuko’s attention fell on a soldier coming from the side. He grabbed your wrist, pulling at it. Stumbling over your feet, you got moved behind him as he blocked the fire coming your way.
Another one came in view as you turned your posture towards him. Fighting back to back with Zuko against the soldiers. Water droplets nearing fire flickers. Iroh came closer as the three of you stood up right, panting as you looked at the soldiers out bested. Zuko puffed angered walking up the them. – “Who send you!” – he called out.
The soldiers were too worn out to reply, barely finding the strength to get up. You joined Zuko’s side, grabbing one by the collar. – Don’t mess with the prince again!” – you told them coldly. You then punched him in the jaw, sending him back down. Zuko turned towards you, touching your elbow.
“I’m good.” – you told him before he could ask it. He nodded firm in return. – “We cannot stay here.” – Iroh spoke urging Zuko and you to leave with him. The three of you went on, trailing up to the great city of Omashu. – “The fire nation so close to Omashu… they never dared before.” – Iroh mumbled to himself.
The city peaked up. Eyes widening as your mouth fell open. The flags of the fire nation waving gracefully in the wind against the sturdy walls of Omashu. - “How?” – you questioned. – “The water tribe was a distraction.” – Iroh commented firm. – “Who could’ve done this?” – was your next question as your eyes fell on something. You walked past Zuko closer to the walls. It first seemed little, but when you came closer it was a thousand papers sticking to the wall.
You gasped tearing one off the wall. – “What do you have?” – Zuko asked in a loud tone. His question made you move it behind your back. Not that it was many use as it was plastered a thousand times more behind you. Zuko approached you, keeping his gaze at you.
Coming to stand in front of you. – “Y/n!” – he simply said to demand you to give him what you were keeping hidden from him. Shaking your head, you didn’t want him to see. Zuko moved his arm around you, snatching the paper from your hands. It was a bit wrinkled so he smoothed it over till his eyes widened as well.
The shock in his eyes when he saw his own face on a wanted poster. He then looked up seeing a thousand more of them sticking to the wall. The poster crumbled in his hands as it flared up in flames. Turning to ashes. Zuko grunted turning sharp on his heel. Iroh neared looking at the posters for himself. – “Is it the fire lord?” – you asked him.
Iroh exhaled deep. – “Perhaps…” – he muttered. Iroh took you by the arm, leading you away from the walls of Omashu. The city wasn’t save anymore. – “Those soldiers… is that why they?” – you questioned. – “I fear so.” – Iroh commented, eyeing Zuko up ahead. Pacing like a mad man.
The three of you moved back towards the waters. Iroh keeping a close eye on every bush. They might be the first, but they won’t be the last. Not now when Zuko is being seen as an enemy of the nation. A shadow fell over the ground as it caught your attention. It made you look up, blocking the sun out to get a better look. High up in the sky, you saw the sky bison soar over the woods.
Knowing it was the Avatar. He probably knew about the fall of Omashu as well. Having been falling a bit behind, you jogged over to join Iroh. Iroh caught up with Zuko catching him by his shoulder. Zuko pushed his hand off with aggression. – “Three years I fought to restore my honour and now! I am seen as a traitor to the fire nation!” – he yelled, losing his temper.
Iroh wanted to reach out to his nephew but Zuko just pushed him away. – “I don’t need your sympathy old man!” – he cursed out. – ��Zuko!” – you yelled for his temper. – “I certainly don’t need yours!” – he made clear with an angry point.
“Good because you don’t deserve it!” – you answered loudly. Zuko crossed his arms, turning away from you like a grumpy defeated child. – “You have two choices here Zuko. You can either complain about it or do something about it!” – you explained having enough of his whining. Zuko kept his clenched posture for a moment, till he exhaled deep, loosening his muscles.
He slowly turned his head back to you, ashamed that he got scolded by you. – “Now I assume we can’t go back to the ship?” – you asked Iroh who nodded. – “So we live on as fugitives until we get to the bottom of this.” – you took the lead as it seemed he wasn’t capable of taking decisions that were of ration. Zuko looked over at his uncle who only shrugged his shoulders, agreeing in silent with you.
Zuko puffed loud going right, heading away from the ship. Iroh gave you an approving nod. You were getting better at tempering him. Proudly you smiled in return. The three of you arrived at a stream. Zuko sighed soft as he came kneeling before the stream. Iroh on his right as you came kneeling on his left. Zuko took out a knife as you wondered what he might do.
He brought it up to his ponytail. With a bit of hesitation he cut it off. He then handed the knife over to Iroh, who cut the little bun on his head off. You looked down, closing your eyes for a moment. Opening them, you brought your hands to your neck. Unclipping the necklace of your tribe from your neck. You brought it forwards in your hand. Zuko and Iroh threw their cut off hair into the stream.
Staring at your necklace, you knew the sacrifice you had to do. Moving your hand forwards you wanted to toss your necklace into the water with them. A sudden grip around your wrist withheld you from doing it. Surprised you looked at Zuko. His hand tight around your wrist, his gaze focused on the water.
“It’s my sacrifice.” – you explained. Wanting to show them you were with them till the end. – “No.” – Zuko simply said. He took the necklace out of your hand, bringing it away from the water, closer to him. His hand disappeared under his shirt, where he tugged your necklace away. Your heart warmth by this, you touched his cheek, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek. Still wanting to give something up of yours, you ripped a piece of your dress. Tossing it into the stream.
Glancing to your side, you saw Zuko stare in silence in front of him. Caught off guard by your kiss. Taking a deep breath, you accepted your new faith. Not sure who portrayed Zuko and Iroh as traitors to the fire nation.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!
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hyperactively-me · 8 months
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Hear me out…King Ghost is wearing a white shirt and he somehow falls into a pond/lake in front of his wife. When he gets out of the water his white shirt is completely transparent and (y/n) can see everything. And while Simon is trying to get out of the lake he just sees his wife looking at him like 👀.
(In reality, a king’s shirt shouldn’t be flimsy and thin enough to be that transparent but I think it is a funny thought if Simon specifically got thin white shirts so his wife would check him out bc he’s a little slut for his wife but she doesn’t know that yet shhhh.)
omg bestie please this is the scene from bridgerton we all know and dearly love!!!!! yes!!
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden, glow across the lake. The winter season had finally passed, the snow gone and melted. Spring had sprung. King Ghost guided a small rowboat through the gentle water, the oars of the boat skimming over the water languidly.
As the boat glided effortlessly across the water, you sat back, enjoying the gentle breeze and the soothing lull of the water. You peek your head over the side of the boat for a moment, staring at your wavy reflection in the water.
“The spring here is beautiful, Simon,” you say, running a hand in the cool water.
“I thought you would like it,” he says, continuing to row the boat, each stroke of the oars propelling you both towards the dock. “Kastron is known for its wildflower fields, super blooms occur here in the springtime, especially during the rainy season.” 
“Oh wow! That sounds amazing, you’ll have to take me to see them sometime,” you smile, looking back up at him from the water. 
As the boat drifts, you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh spring air. It's a welcome break from the formalities and duties in the palace, and a chance for the two of you to be together.
Spending time with him was all you wanted a few months ago, and since then, he’s made a continuous and honest effort to spend time with you, and you with him. Honestly, you’ve grown to truly have an affection for him, a real liking for him, a stark difference from the time you first met him.
The sunlight dances on the surface of the lake, casting a shimmering reflection. You find yourself lost in the beauty of the moment, the gentle ripples of the water, and the soothing sounds of nature all around you.
Simon's strong arms work in time with the boat, his gaze never leaving you. He shifts slightly, thinking of something to say. "I had hoped this outing would be a pleasant surprise," he says, his tone soft and earnest.
You lean closer to him, reaching out to caress his cheek with your hand. “It is more than pleasant, Simon. It's perfect.”
His brown eyes, once reserved and guarded, now shine with warmth. He briefly stops rowing, allowing the boat to drift for a moment as he leans in to kiss the palm of your hand. 
"I'm glad to hear that," he whispers, his lips grazing your skin. "I wanted to show you a different side of Kastron, just you and me.”
You can't help but blush, feeling a flutter in your chest. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, and it was moments like these that made you realize just how much you enjoyed his company. You've come to appreciate his dedication to his people, his sense of duty, and his unwavering support for you.
The boat drifted to a halt by the lakeside, and Simon gracefully rose to disembark. But, without warning, his foot caught on the edge of the boat's wooden plank, and he stumbled, pitching forward into the cool water. 
You gasped, your heart leaped in your chest as you watched him vanish beneath the surface with a splash. Your first instinct was to reach out, to help him, but you remained frozen, unable to take your eyes off the scene unfolding before you.
Simon resurfaced, water dripping from his tousled, sandy blonde hair, and that's when you noticed it. His once perfectly pressed white shirt now clung to him like a second skin, rendered completely transparent by the water. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw every curve and contour of his physique, the strong lines of his chest, and the ripple of his muscles beneath the wet fabric.
Your husband, the king, stood before you, basically exposed, yet somehow looks more alluring than ever. You didn’t have to know he tripped on purpose. Hell, he’s way too coordinated for a fall as simple as that. He only did it to impress you, to get into your subconscious. But you don’t have to know.
“Simon!” you cry out, springing up from your seat. The boat rocks as you push yourself up from your seat, leaning over the boat. You jump over your seat, extending a hand to Simon. 
He takes your hand with a sheepish grin, water dripping from his soaked clothes. “Well, that was—" he says, chuckling.
You can't help but stare, you really can’t. You help pull him back on the boat, watching his arms flex as he pulls himself up. His proximity sends a shiver down your spine, but you do your best to focus. “Are you okay?”
Simon nods, water droplets splattering around him. “I'm perfectly fine, just a bit wet,” he replies, slipping his shirt off. You are now staring unabashedly at his now bare chest, his muscles and abs rippling as he starts to wring out his shirt as best he can. 
“O– okay” you gulp, nodding. 
“What is it?” he asks, nonchalant.
“Nothing, it’s nothing, just…you falling startled me a bit,” your eyes darted around, your face growing extremely warm.
“Hm. Well, I am sorry for startling you—”
“No, don’t be sorry at all!” you laugh slightly, brushing hair from your face.
“Alright, I’m not sorry, then,” he says, now fully grinning at you. “I saw you staring.”
Your mouth goes agape for a split second, then you flounder, spluttering about how you weren’t staring. 
“I wasn’t staring!” you say incredulously, exaggerating your reaction. 
“You definitely were, darling.” 
“No I wasn’t!”
He just laughs, shaking his head. He turns, hiding his face from you for a moment. God, he’s obsessed with you.
- - - - -
(masterlist)
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opbackgrounds · 3 months
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I like how it takes a little while for Moriah's power to overcome a shadow's personality. It leads to a lot of fun shenanigans throughout the arc, but also adds to the horror of what Moriah is actually doing to his victims. Those without shadows are forced to forever live in the dark, hiding for fear of being burnt to a crisp by the sun, while we get to see the so-called revived dead slowly subsumed into a mindless horde. There's a sense of loss when Dogpen stops acting like Sanji, and when Oars stops wanting to become the Pirate King.
And when you think of it, it's more like a double loss. The original Oars did not act like Luffy, and Ryuma wasn't anything like Brook. Morah stripped them of any previous identity when he strapped a stranger's shadow onto their bodies, and then stripped it again as even that personality gave way to mindless obedience. Its a desecration of the dead that goes far beyond the physical, and really what makes him a great villain for the One Piece world. A person dies when they're forgotten, and a corpse fueled by a stolen personality is not going to be remembered how they were in life.
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heymrsandman · 9 months
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JANEWAY: Fire the science lasers
SEVEN OF NINE: Captain, I believe if we Borg nanoprobes the problem, then we can explode everything
TUVOK: Sense-oars indicate that would be extremely rad, Captain
JANEWAY: Good, then I can get back to giving the entire crew mommy issues
vs
PICARD: I have spent six hours drinking tea in my floating fortress city in the middle of Federation heartland and I have decided that centrism is right RIKER: *jazzy trombone solo* vs DUKAT: They say that a good man will kill you without a thought, if he has decided that you are truly evil. What does that say about us, Captain, that we have not yet found cause to end the other? SISKO: It means that I hold myself to higher ideals that random murder, even of scum like you. I can see how you would find it hard to relate O’BRIEN: Sir, Quark’s new Furbys have become sentient and eaten the Defiant
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estrellami-1 · 8 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
After sandwiches, Nancy turns to El. “Could you look for Barb again?”
El sets her mouth and nods. She glances at Steve, who also nods and moves to set up the living room again.
Eddie follows him in and picks up the blindfold. Steve doesn’t try to hide his smirk. “You’ve got questions, I’m guessing?”
Eddie shrugs, leans against the couch. Watches the fabric as he pulls it through his fingers. Right hand, left hand. Right, left. “Mostly thinking I was wrong about you. Even more than I initially thought.”
Steve smiles. “We never got to have this conversation in the future, but I do know what your bandana means.” He stops for a second, watches Eddie’s hands. Right, left. “I’m offering… not an olive branch, per se, but…”
“An invitation?” Right, left.
“Exactly.” He shrugs. “If there’s anything you want to know…” he trails off, lets it hang in the air.
Eddie smiles. “Just one thing.” He holds it up in his left hand. “Who d’you use it on?”
Steve grins and turns away, looking for the remote. “Myself.” His smile falls. “Or- I did. You heard about the Russians, right?”
Eddie steps up beside him. Offers him the blindfold. “Yeah. Makes sense.”
Steve shrugs. “I’d say if I could go back in time, but…” he gestures around with a grin, letting it widen when Eddie chuckles. “Turns out going back in time does nothing for the memories I already have.”
Eddie frowns. “Kinda fucked up, isn’t it? Your body reverted back to its sixteen-year-old self, but your brain is still twenty.”
“I mean, imagine me coming to school one day looking like this, and the next I come in with scars, looking half a decade older. People would talk.”
Eddie hums. “You’re probably right. Still, it can’t be easy, having those mental reminders with none of the physical.”
Steve grins at him. “Did you miss the part where I don’t have concussions?”
Eddie snorts. “Fair enough. Still, I bet the scars looked badass.”
“Very metal,” Steve agrees. “Y’know, if you’d survived? We woulda had matching scars.” He trails a hand down his side. “The bats ripped us both open. Woulda gotten me if you, Robin and Nance hadn’t gotten there when you did. You took on a bat with nothing but an oar from a rowboat.” He turns to look at Eddie. “You told me once, how you’re a coward. How you run.” He shakes his head, looks away. “You didn’t. Not when it mattered. And you won’t this time.”
“Maybe this time we’ll have matching not-scars,” Eddie says, then points at Steve. “And no concussions.”
“And no concussions,” Steve parrots, laughing. “If we have to deal with the Russians again, though? I’m definitely doing something different.”
“We,” Eddie murmurs, shrugging when Steve looks at him. “We’ll do something different. You think any of these kids are gonna leave you alone after this? You think Eleven will leave you alone?”
“I hope not,” Steve answers honestly. “And you? You’re staying?”
Eddie shrugs again. “You said I didn’t run when it mattered. Who’s to say this doesn’t matter just as much? I’m not running.”
Steve smiles softly at him. “You’re a good man, Eddie Munson.”
Eddie levels him with a look. “I sell weed, Steve.”
Steve snorts. “I’m well aware, dude, I’ve bought from you before. If all goes well, I’m planning on buying another.”
Eddie laughs. “Hell, man, if it all goes well, I’ll give it to you, free of charge.”
Steve winks. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says, then leaves Eddie to process while he goes to get El.
Of course wherever El goes, Mike’s not far behind, which means he, Dustin and Lucas follow, and of course Nancy follows, and since everyone else is already in there, Jonathan and Robin follow too, so they all end up crammed in the living room again, with bated breaths and tightly-held hands, as El settles in front of the TV and puts the blindfold on.
Finally, she speaks. “I see her. She is alive.”
Nancy slumps into the couch and lets out a breath.
Then El speaks again. “She does not have very long.”
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Note
Hello, I have an Xavier Thorpe request
Reader can’t swim, but joins Enid’s Poe Cup team as a favor for her best friend. So during the Poe Cup she falls in and without hesitation Xavier jumps in to rescue her
Thank you 😊
I don’t know what to think about this one, but I don’t think I can do better
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The Sirens were last to depart, but you knew Bianca was plotting something. As Wednesday had pointed out last night, it was impossible for them to be the only boat to make it back across the lake without sinking every year. Unfortunately, there were no rules in the Poe cup. Sabotage was allowed and Bianca had already begun early by sending Yoko to the infirmary because of a major allergic reaction to garlic bread, leaving Enid without a copilot.
Quickly enough, the Black Cats were second in line. You saw Enid’s lips twitch into a grin, but you told her to focus and keep rowing. Gloating too soon always leads to a major downfall.
Then, Ajax and his jesters caught up to you and brushed against your boat as they rowed past you.
‘’Oh, excuse us,’’ one of them fakely apologized, sniggering.
You were tempted to flip them the finger, but you took your own advice and rowed faster instead. ‘’Come on, ladies!’’
The sabotaging soon began with a nod from Bianca. Another siren — Kent — was on the deck on the side of the lake, waiting for his friend’s signal to jump in and tip one of the boats. You would never tell Enid, but you were happy to not be first in line at the moment as you saw their boat being guided into the red buoy and breaking in three pieces, sending everyone in the water.
The well and the pendulum were out.
‘’Faster,’’ Enid told everyone, sensing the sirens were getting closer and if they went past you, the black cats would be last.
Without surprise, the jesters made it to the other side first. They had left their boat on the shore, completely unattended. The opportunity for sabotage was too easy, but unfortunately it didn’t even cross your mind as you stayed behind to guard your boat. What a missed opportunity.
Shortly after Enid and the girls left running, you saw Xavier running back with his flag, Ajax and the other boy right behind. His jester makeup was so extra, but it looked great on him. It was a contrast to his personality.
‘’Does the claws come with the costume?’’ he teased as he was embarking his boat, glancing at your black ears and whiskers Enid had painted on your cheeks.
‘’Don't mess with the cat or you’ll find out,’’ you fired back, making Xavier grin.
The teasing and flirting between you and Xavier was nothing new. It was obvious to everyone who had eyes that you had feelings for each other, but you were both too shy to admit it and settled on dancing around each other instead.
Eventually, Enid came back with the flag and the girl quickly took their seats just as the sirens pulled in. Bianca didn't seem very worried or rushed, meaning she was planning something else. That was no good.
The black cats were almost halfway across the lake when you felt something pushing underneath the boat. You tightened your grip on the oar, not enjoying how unsteady the boat suddenly was. Before you could ask what was going on, the pushing happened again. This time, it was stronger.
Someone was trying to tip you over.
You didn’t have time to react as another — and last — push overturned the boat, making your worst fear come true.
Your heart leaped in your chest as you fell in the water, not knowing how to swim.
‘’Enid! Help!’’ you called, trying to stay above water by kicking your arms and feet, but only ended up splashing in panic. ‘’Eni—’’
‘’The Black Cats are down,'' Ajax announced with premature victory, seeing your boat upside down and your oars floating.
Xavier whipped his head around and saw that, indeed, the boat was upside down. He scanned the water for you, seeing only Enid and the other girls.
‘’Shit.’’
Not many people knew that you couldn’t swim. It wasn't something you liked to brag about. It’s kind of embarrassing. Only Xavier and Enid knew of your swimming troubles, which was why you called for her when you fell.
He stopped rowing and jumped in the lake, making his teammates confused.
‘’We’re almost half-way!’’ one of them said, but Xavier didn’t care about the Poe cup anymore.
‘’Xavier!’’ Ajax called, but he didn’t hear his friend. All that was on his mind was you.
Xavier Thorpe taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n
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teyamsatan · 10 months
Text
ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
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synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.
wc: 7k words
a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)
pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!
na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
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I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage
"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."
Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.
"Yes?"
"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."
You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.
"I want to be more than this, too."
Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.
"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?
“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her. 
You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.
"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.
You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right. 
“Fuck, your back…”
“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.” 
“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still. 
“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead. 
“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”
You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with. 
“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”
“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that. 
You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong
You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.
“What happened, O’i’en?” 
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target. 
“Nothing else.”
O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.
“What. Happened. O’i’en?” 
"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."
"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."
The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.
"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"
His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.
"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."
"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."
"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.
“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.” 
“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“
You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process. 
“No.” 
Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt. 
“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.” 
“I saw her… in the lineup.”
“The lineup?” 
“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.” 
Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.
“No…Oare, no…”
“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”
You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain
"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"
"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"
"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."
Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.
Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.
“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”
“I know where she is.”
He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit. 
It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.
Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out. 
"Leave."
Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.
“Why are you here? You should be resting.”
He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.
“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.” 
"Txepvi... Just co-"
"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."
He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.
"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.
I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone
“Why did you stay with me?” 
Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.
“Answer me, Neteyam.” 
“I don’t know.” 
You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.
It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.
“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”
I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard
"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."
"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"
“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“
“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."
"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.
"What do you mean?"
He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.
"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."
"Who?"
"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."
Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...
"He wasn't wrong."
I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying
You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.
"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.
“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"
“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.
Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.
“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.” 
“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “
“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"
All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust
Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.
"Just...Stop talking."
His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the  crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos. 
He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.
As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.
"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."
You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.
"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."
At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.
"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."
You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.
You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.
"F-fuck!"
"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."
"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."
Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.
He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.
His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.
"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."
You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.
The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.
I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....
I love you.
"Neteyam..."
"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."
You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.
"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."
For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.
You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me
It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.
"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."
Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.
You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.
In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.
“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”
Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough
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