THE FIC.

oh yes it's that time of year again

I am currently bouncing off the walls thinking about Spider forging his own path and creating his own family of misfits and outcasts, both Na'vi and human.

Instead of remaining caught between two worlds that refuse to fully claim him, Spider chooses to carve out his own space—his own home—among outcasts who, like him, never fit into the structures of either the RDA or the Na’vi. These outsiders were either set aside or left.

Imagine this blue-striped human quietly slipping away one night, leaving behind Hell’s Gate and the Omatikaya with nothing but a pack slung over his shoulder and a determined heart. He treks deep into the wilds of Pandora, following instincts honed from a past life, seeking others like him—those abandoned, cast aside, or seeking something greater than survival under someone else’s thumb.

At first, it’s only three of them—Spider, an ex-RDA scientist who defected, and a Na’vi warrior shunned by their clan for challenging tradition. Together, they build a home high in the mountains, tucked between floating cliffs and waterfalls where neither the RDA nor any hostile clan can reach them easily. They hunt, they craft, they survive—and then they grow.

More come. A lone Na’vi mother with her child, fleeing persecution. A human engineer who sabotaged RDA equipment before running into the wilds. A pair of Na’vi twins whose father was an avatar and whose clan cast them out for it. Orphans. Runaways. The lost and forgotten.

Spider becomes their leader, not because he craves power, but because he understands their pain better than anyone. Together, they thrive and live free, far from the chaos of their past. They build something beautiful—a village woven into the mountains, suspended on bridges of vine and wood, with glowing bioluminescent lanterns lighting the bridges and paths at night. Their home hums with laughter, music, and the quiet, unshakable bond of a family built by choice rather than blood.

And when Spider finds orphaned human children—abandoned by war, unwanted by both sides—he takes them in. He raises them as his own, refusing to let another child endure the loneliness and rejection he once did.

By the time anyone realizes what he’s done, his little village is no longer little. It is a thriving community of hundreds, a sanctuary for those without a place. The RDA cannot touch them. The Na’vi clans leave them be. Some fear them, some scoff at them. Others—those who have known suffering and loneliness—seek them out, hoping to start anew. Eywa graces them all with her many blessings, and for the first time, Spider finally has a place to call home. And when the day comes that war reaches their doorstep, Spider stands at the front with his newfound family, no longer a boy without a home but a leader, a protector, a brother to those who were once lost like him.

Can you write a snippet of Quaritch following through with his version of “an old school ass whipping”

Nothing too serious because I don’t think he’d abuse Spider but I do think he’d be the type of parent to resort to physical discipline if pushed enough.

In the exchange between him and Spider, Spider does not seemed alarmed with fear and is actually a little cheeky. I think he’s used to adults just letting him get away with things.

I think it’s be interesting to read Spider’s reaction to an adult/authority figure disciplining him (whether physical or some other punishment) for not following instructions rather than just checking to see if he has not been harmed.

It doesn’t have to relate to him running off which is where Quaritch uses the threat. It could be anything.

Wish granted!✨

TW; none

Arrow to the heart

.

“UGH! Did y’all ever even wash these before??”

“Not since they were put here.” Miles responded nonchalantly, reading the latest report off his holotable as he lay in the bunk opposite of the shower entrance.

“This is disgusting.” Spider grimaced, his back aching from labour.

It must have been about seven hours since the dreadful words of an incoming punishment were spoken, yet it felt more like an eternity as Spider was been tasked to clean the floor of every room in the recom barracks with only a rag and soap. If hell existed — this had to be it.

“How…” The boy breathed, letting his arms rest minutely, slumped on the foamy tiles. For once, he was thankful to be forced into an ugly shirt and camo-pants. “How much do I have left?”

“A lot less if you didn’t yap all the time.” Miles, yet again, responded without giving his son prisoner as much as a look.

“No, seriously. How many rooms?”

The recom let out a heavy sigh, as if he was the one hunched over the tiles with rubber gloves. “Five. You’ll do toilets next.”

Spider groaned in misery, before taking a deep breath to steady himself and keep working. Maybe Miles would eventually get tired of seeing him like this and let it go.

“Oh, and don’t think I’ll let you off easy. You’ll be scrubbing these floors until you’re done with them all. No breaks.”

Socorro snapped his head towards him. “Are you crazy!? These are avatar-sized! The place is big as fuck! I’ll be stuck here until morning!”

“Then you’ll have to quit talking and get back go work.”

Spider growled. “This is child abuse.”

“You wanna take me to court?”

The blonde’s growls turned to a hiss as he got back to the task, fuming. What the hell was this old bastard’s deal?

“All this…” Spider grumbled as he slid the soapy rag over the floor. “Just for me calling you an asshole…”

“Oh no.” Miles snapped, his keen ears catching Socorro’s low mumbling form across the room. “All this is for you saying that shit in front of my superiors. You crossed a line. I could let your attitude slide in the forest, but not in public. You will not put me in a spot like that again. Got that?”

“Yes sir.”

“No you didn’t. Keep scrubbing.” Miles commanded, going back to reading. “How in lord’s name did those lab rats even tolerate you?”

With no warning, these last words hit Spider like an arrow to the chest. Out of nowhere, he got a strong urge to take that damned rag and strangle the colonel with it. “I was very well-fucking-behaved, thank you.” He spat.

“You? Behaving?” Quaritch smirked, raising a brow. “Nonsense.”

“You think you know me? That you got me all figured out?”

“You’re not as mysterious as you wanna be, kid.” The recom side-eyed him. “You’re an audacious, lazy brat who was never taught manners because those traitors had no patience to raise a proper man.”

Spider laughed in disbelief. “Oh. Really?”

“I didn’t say you could stop. Quit whining, or I’ll assign the B-squad’s barracks as well.”

“Wh-NO!” The boy barked, standing and throwing the wet rag in the bucket. “We’re NOT done!”

Miles rolled his eyes. On some level, he could feel that this outburst was coming, but held out hope that they’d skip Spider’s desperate self-affirmations. He’ll let him talk it out and add onto the punishment after the rant is over, which was the only reason why he didn’t plan on tunning the kid out.

No other reason at all.

“You think I’m like this at home? I’m not! I worked day in an out at hell’s gate and then high camp, to help those I care about and keep hem safe!” He raised his voice. “I’ve always tried to be quiet, stay out of the way, keep to myself! The rest of those ankle-biters didn’t come close!” He stepped closer to the stone-faced colonel. “I’ve always did my best, alright?!”

His voice wavered, and Quaritch’s ears flicked down instinctively. Was the kid getting emotional? “If you were so damn good then why the hell had no-one scrambled to get you back yet?”

His implication hung in the air, simple and clear; that it was Spider’s fault that there was yet not a single rescue attempt made.

Another arrow to the heart.

“You know why.” Socorro spat.

“No I don’t. We’ve spent so much time squatting in the mud miles from Bridgehead yet no one has come looking fo you.”

Spider’s breath hitched.

“Maybe, get this…” Quaritch stood. “You’d be favoured more if you were less of a pain in the ass.”

Of course, the recom did not believe his words. Not fully, but he needed to deliver the punishment in a way his ward would remember. Spider was overdue for a reality check.

Except…the cheer pain in Socorro’s eyes in response to his words suggested otherwise. Quaritch was suddenly rooted in place, pinned under his gaze.

“How…how dare you.” He spoke, his voice shaking. “I was good. I did all I could and then more.” Water began pooling in his big eyes. “I did everything. I was useful, convenient, invisible!” His hands balled into fists. “I did everything they asked! I was at their beck and call! Always!”

Miles felt his heart sink with every sentence. Shit. Alright. Perhaps he overdid it with the cutting words.

“I never complained! I learned to treat my own cuts and bruises! Learned to power through the broken bones! I’ve never been a burden!!!” He screamed.

After weeks, months of staying tight-lipped about his past, all this new information threw Miles’s mind into a spin.

“Spider—”

“You wanna know why I called you an asshole in front of those corporates!? Because you’re a fucking monster!!!” But Socorro could not longer be stopped. “You threaten and hurt and kill and it never bothers you, so why the FUCK should I respect you!?!” He sniffed, throwing off his gloves. “All you’ve ever done is screw me over! It’s YOUR fault no one cared how good I was or that I’m gone, because I’ll always carry YOUR blood. FUCK YOU!” He roared, before sobbing and storming out of the barracks, leaving Miles to stew in what he had just heard.

He looked at the wet rag lying on the tiles, the silence deafening and his tail limp.

Damn it.

Why did his heart ache so?

god forbid 5000 year old girls do anything

helen walne photos that make me feel a certain way

I don’t know if anyone has ever done this before but, here ya go… The Different Types of Fanfiction! 

I probably left a few out, but these are the most common, compared to their base fiction’s canon plot. Enjoy! XD

irish coworker: *is back from a month in italy*

me: the weather must have been great, you're looking so tanned!

irish coworker: *stares down at his arms, which are a shade of eggshell white i associate with tasteful wedding table settings* i suppose i am!

welsh coworker: *enters room* wow, youre looking so tanned!

ghanaian coworker: *looks around like hes on the truman show*

AO3 has been scraped, once again.

As of the time of this post, AO3 has been scraped by yet another shady individual looking to make a quick buck off the backs of hardworking hobby writers. This Reddit post here has all the details and the most current information. In short, if your fic URL ends in a number between 1 and 63,200,000 (inclusive), AND is not archive locked, your fic has been scraped and added to this database.

I have been trying to hold off on archive locking my fics for as long as possible, and I've managed to get by unscathed up to now. Unfortunately, my luck has run out and I am archive locking all of my current and future stories. I'm sorry to my lovelies who read and comment without an account; I love you all. But I have to do what is best for me and my work. Thank you for your understanding.