I Just Wanna Say Something Real Quick.

love itttttt!! :)

✎ LGBT Sanrio Icons ˊˎ-

╰┈➤ Lesbian Pompompurin, Gay Chococat, Bisexual Kuromi, Pansexual Hello Kitty, Transgender Cinnamoroll, Nonbinary Badtz-Maru

like/reblog if you use!

this is the realest thing ive seen on tumblr gn

That one fic that’s so out of character that it makes you hate your favorite character

"Omg Ao’nung did you leave Lo‘ak outside the reef!? He could die!!"

Ao‘nung:

it’s okay he was just in a silly goofy mood

Metanoia - The journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life.

Ao3

You meet your neighbor You need a favor You go to dinner You have a secret You make a promise You don’t like silence You learn the truth You keep your promise You return a favor You need a date You go to tea You meet a ghost

Main Masterlist

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

UGHHHH. LOVE THIS

simon telling the guys he's got a girl to go home to post op and johnny's gobsmacked because him??

his simon? with a sweet thing?? that isn't repelled by his very existence??? he's gotta meet you! (he's also mildly upset that the rest of them are single. or is it jealousy that the man he's gotten himself off to is finally taken?)

it takes a little (a lot) of cajoling to at least show johnny a picture and when simon hands him his cracked phone, johnny whistles low and murmurs out a pretty lass.

and you do look pretty. you look pretty from the side as you're washing dishes, even with the gaudy yellow gloves covering up to your elbows. you're so pretty from the back as you're bent over, carefully basting the chicken you're baking. you even look pretty fuzzy, the camera blurring your features while zoomed in.

there's even a video of you but johnny doesn't overstep. he knows better. he waits for simon's go ahead, and once he gives the almost imperceptible nod, johnny quickly presses play.

the room is dim, the television casting a soft glow upon your face. your legs are folded beneath you, your gaze fixed on whatever it is you're watching, your hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn on the nightstand.

"ken wha' she's watchin'?"

"i dunno, but she's been into nature documentaries as of late."

johnny hums softly and the video comes to an end.

"yer a lucky man, LT."

simon doesn't say anything.

(and neither does johnny. not about the grilles of the window in every picture nor the quiet chirping of crickets and even quieter crunching of leaves in the video.)

tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)

cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.

cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.

even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."

and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.

which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.

the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.

you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.

he answered on the second ring.

"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.

"be there in 5," then hung up.

he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.

true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.

inside the ladies bathroom.

he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.

he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.

so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.

furious.

some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.

you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?

simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.

everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.

in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.

until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.

you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."

his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"

you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.

"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."

nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.

simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.

he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.

simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.

hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—

"yes."

he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.

"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.

simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.

and so the elephant marches to war.

-

it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.

his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"he is no longer a problem."

he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.

"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."

simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."

your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."

one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.

"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.

there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.

he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.

"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."

the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.

"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"

the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.

later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.

for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.

-

simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.

nothing.

shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.

your wish is his command.

From now on

You are not allow to complain about lack of content if you don't reblog content.

You're part of the problem. I don't care if it doesn't fit your aesthetic or you think that a like is "just as good". Reblogs are way more important than likes.

A like is like a quick almost mindless thing you do as a "neat" before you keep scrolling. At least that's what it feels like they are.

A reblog is telling that creator: Hey, I really like your stuff and want you to make more. I'll help by spreading your content around so more people can see it.

We all appreciate likes but they don't do any good if no one is sharing the content.

Every time I see such a difference in likes and reblogs it discourages me from writing more and I'm sure others feel the same.

DAMNN slow burn fr but im excited asl

THE GREAT WAR I: bruised like violets — tsu’tey

— when accompanying dr. augustine, norm spellman, and jake sully to explore the pandoran forest, you and sully become separated from the group. you barely survive the night before a na’vi woman rescues you.

INCLUDES fem!reader, dreamwalker!reader. mentions of tom’s (jake’s twin) medical history and death + his (purely platonic! brotherly!) relationship with reader, near death experiences. 3.7k words.

NOTE my knuckles were WHAT? 🎤 for the sake of this fic and my sanity, let us pretend time dilation is not a thing because that complicates all sense of logic in this fic’s timeline.

SERIES MASTERLIST | part ii

The familiar darkness of the link unit’s space shrouds you as you open your eyes, mind still reeling despite your countless ventures in your Avatar. Pushing the link’s cover open, you slowly sit up, wiping the sweat lining your forehead.

Dr. Max Patel greets you with a clipboard in hand.

“Grace is waiting for you.”

Your eyebrows jump. “Did she see me and Txur’ii shoot Sari seeds at the other kids again?”

Dr. Patel steps back, gasping, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You said you’d stop doing that!”

“They started picking on him again!”

Txuri’ii is the Na’vi kid you almost plowed into the first time you tested your Avatar. He’s smaller compared to other Na’vi boys his age; a little thinner than usual too. It’s the reason you didn’t immediately see him that first time. He’s grown to be the source of entertainment for the other Na’vi kids, picking on him and bullying him.

When you learned of this, you dragged the kid and gathered all uncollected Sari seeds you could find. Borrowing two straws from the lab, you then hid behind the bushes as you preyed on Txur’ii’s tormentors.

You showed him as you stuffed the Sari seeds in your mouth and brought the straw to your lips. As the tallest of the bullies turns his back in your direction, you blow a seed through the straw, hitting the kid on his nape.

Txur’ii’s delighted squeak almost gave away your hiding spot.

One time, Dr. Augustine caught you and Txur’ii, and she berated you like a little kid when you got back in the lab.

You jump down the link unit, fixing your rumpled up shirt. You bid Dr. Patel goodbye, squashing down your smile with a finger to your lips and an obnoxious “shh.”

There’s a familiar face in Dr. Augustine’s vicinity. You stop short in your tracks, squinting your eyes as if that will help you understand the situation better.

You glide your palms over the edges of tables as you wade closer to where he’s talking with Dr. Augustine and Spellman in a wheelchair.

Last you heard, he’d been caught in a mugging incident. No one wanted to talk to you about it and the rumors you’ve heard said he was in a coma.

You suppose those were that — rumors, since he’s here, in the flesh, right in front of you. But what the hell happened?

“Tommy?”

You seem to have interrupted Dr. Augustine’s litany. All three of them turn their heads toward you and you get a perfect view of his face. He looks so different; definitely a lot more mature with the scruff. With your eyes trained on Tommy, you don’t see Spellman’s forlorn gaze as the realization dawns upon him.

“It’s — Jake, actually,” Tommy says. He offers a hand to you. “Jake Sully.”

Jake Sully.

Your eyes flit back to the head scientist, noting the way her eyes are quite softer than usual. Her cigarette hangs forgotten between her fingers.

“Another Sully?” you murmur. You recall Tommy mentioning a twin brother back when you were still on Earth but never meeting him in person.

He has exactly the same features as him but he doesn’t have Tommy’s calm and friendly aura. You don’t know if that’s the reason he kind of irks you suddenly or it’s something else.

You prop your hands to your waist, looking around. “Where’s Tommy? Has he recovered?” He hasn’t returned your video calls. Just last week, you tried contacting him again, hoping he’s woken up. All you received was an automated response, which made sense if he was traveling halfway through the solar system in cryo, though you would have preferred if he sent you a little heads up.

Jake Sully’s eyebrows reconnect, quizzically looking at the two scientists before saying, “Tommy’s dead.”

A sigh is caught in your throat. You want to ask him to repeat that but if you once again hear what you thought you just heard, you don’t know how you’ll be able to take it.

“Right.” You clear your throat, swallowing the lump that’s making your eyes burn. “Yeah, of course, I knew that.”

The sarcasm makes the dents in his forehead deeper, tilting his head to the side as he watches you.

“How do you—?”

“I gotta get back,” you suddenly announce, already walking away. You don’t bother sparing them another glance as you walk out of the laboratory, a lone tear trailing down your cheek. You’re quick to put your exopack on, a humorless chuckle escaping your lips at the betrayal choking you the way not even the Pandoran air could.

You’re evasive of the other scientists for the past week. Even in your Avatar form, you avoid any interaction with Dr. Augustine and other Avatar drivers.

Their silence about Tommy’s death makes something ugly curl in your stomach. You haven’t seen him since you were 14. Your stubborn mind refuses to accept what Jake Sully said about Tommy because that is just impossible. If anyone deserves to live the longest life they could on this godforsaken moon, or even back there on Earth, it would have been Tommy.

Tommy, who you basically grew up with. Despite being under the Colonel’s wing, there still wasn’t much to life. It was only then that Tommy started hanging out with you did you come out of your shell.

“Y/N!”

Dr. Patel’s familiar voice cuts through your peace. He jogs over to you, worn clipboard in hand. You don’t think he has ever put that thing down. It looks three seconds away from disintegrating.

“Grace is looking for you.”

You say nothing but follow the scientist back to the lab. Inside, you see Jake Sully, Dr. Augustine, and Spellman huddled together.

Dr. Augustine greets you before gesturing towards Sully. “Marine’s coming with us.”

You raise your eyebrows, making an effort to not look at any of them.

“For the research,” she adds. “Norm’s coming too.”

You say nothing as you move and get ready, settling in your own unit. You see Spellman give Dr. Augustine a withering look and you roll your eyes.

To your left is the other Sully’s link unit. You watch as he methodically hauls himself up the machine, lifting his upper body first before hooking his arms under his knees to position his legs.

As you settle and close your eyes, you wonder how he ended up like that.

Spellman’s excited chatter grates at your ears. Tommy used to be like that. It was what you bonded over in the first place. And usually, you’d be more than happy to be out here with Dr. Augustine but you’ve been off-kilter ever since Jake Sully ceremoniously dropped the news.

The forest of Pandora is still a wonder to you despite residing here for the past six years. Though Dr. Augustine had been here much longer than you have, her stacks of files are endless about the Pandoran flora and fauna. It seems like the moon spits out new species every single day.

You huff as the two scientists crouch over a braid of roots, injecting a needle to see the synapses transmit on the small screen Spellman holds. You turn around and realize Sully is nowhere to be found.

Your company is too preoccupied with their discovery so you leave them be, following the ruffles of footsteps against fallen leaves. Pulling back a giant leaf, it reveals Jake Sully tapping away on a bunch of Helicoradian plants.

You don’t make yourself known, watching from the sidelines as a smile spreads across the man’s face. Sully is more… tolerable, you’d say, in his Avatar form. Though the aura you cannot place is still emanating off him, he also has that air of innocence.

You startle as the walls of Helicoradian vanish from his ministrations and instead reveal a crash of Hammerhead Titanotheres, one of which notices your acquaintance and releases a loud cry. They’re like giant rhinoceros, a spattering of blue and purple with thick armor.

You curse under your breath, stepping forward to get closer to him but still hidden from the animal.

“Don’t shoot!” you bark when you notice him grip his gun, finger on the trigger. “Don’t you dare shoot, Sully! That’s got armor thicker than your skull.”

The Titanotheres rakes its foot on the forest floor before charging, letting out another cry, leaving a flurry of dust in its wake. You’re helpless and frozen on your spot as Jake Sully stands his ground, leveling the giant’s cry with a shout of his own.

This seems to deter the animal, skidding to a stop. You think it whimpers. Sully is as surprised as you.

“You son of a bitch!” he spits. He huffs out a laugh and you grimace at the air of arrogance surrounding him. He spews out some more nonsense as the Titanotheres cowers and scurries away… until you hear something worse than a Titanotheres.

Behind Jake Sully stands a Thanator. Its cry pierces the air, sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay, now, what do I do?” The marine asks, gauging the animal. “What do I do?”

Oh, you’d beg Eywa to bring that Titanotheres back.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you grit out. “Run!”

Jake Sully runs, abandoning all sense of dignity as he sprints — toward you. The Thanator charges and chases Sully and you have no choice but to run too, unless you want to be a predator’s lunch. You hear a distant, “what the hell is going on?” from Dr. Augustine as you run past her and a wide-eyed Spellman.

In your head, you’re cursing Sully in the darkest pits of hell. You are not fit for running. Your lungs strain as you fight to breathe, legs already aching and you pray to all the gods you know that your ankles will not give out on you this time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Sully chants. The Thanator growls and you think you can feel it breathing just behind your neck.

“There!” Sully points to an uprooted tree. You don’t question his decision, partly because you don’t have a choice. The two of you burrow under the thick roots, dirt on your hands and knees as you try to crawl further down the shallow hole.

The animal roars, sending a giant claw in your direction. You try not to scream as the roots practically disintegrate on its assault, a shower of wood falling over your heads. Jake Sully tugs on your hand, moving out of your hiding spot and taking off again.

“This is your fault,” you wheeze out, greens and blues flying by your peripheral. “Stupid shit.”

He doesn’t hear you or maybe chooses to ignore you. You don’t care. If you weren’t on the brink of death, you’d kill Jake Sully with your bare hands.

“We gotta jump!” He shouts over his shoulder.

Though there is a giant deadly animal chasing your asses, you skid to a stop, making the marine stumble.

“No.”

He ignores you again, pulling on your wrist hard enough to pop it. The Thanator unleashes another cry, sounding closer than ever.

“We jump on three!”

It’s then you hear the wild splashes of water. You’re running head on on the edge of a cliff. You’re going to die and Jake Sully is the last person you’ll see. It’s enough to make you want to cry.

“One!”

“No!” You try to pull your wrist free from his hold but his grip only tightens.

“Two!”

“I said no!”

“Three!”

“I can’t swim!”

You don’t jump.

Jake Sully does.

But he hasn’t let go of you. His momentum drags you along and you’re free falling to your death first and sinking beneath the waters next. During your fall, Sully’s hold on you disappeared. Your chest tightens in more ways than one.

The panic creeps in and your lungs constrict as you take a deep breath, choking on water and going blind in hysteria. You thrash, mind reeling and trying to open your eyes but between the choking and the drowning and the dying, you can’t find it in you to think.

Something wraps beneath your arms and pulls. You break out of the surface, sputtering and blinking away the water, to find Jake Sully in front of you.

“Hey, hey,” he shakes your arms. Stray strands from his braids are clinging to his face. “Are you okay?”

You hear a faint cry from above, the Thanator peering down at you.

“Can we—?” you cough, eyes stinging and nose burning. “Can we get out of the water first?”

Sully hauls you off the river and into land. You fall to your knees and heave, getting water out of your system. Your clothes are drenched and you assume he lost his gun along the way. There might be no Thanators here but the forest still isn’t safe.

You shudder, running a palm over your face to get rid of the rivulets. It’s no use since your palms are wet.

“This is your fault,” you say again, glaring at the man shaking his arms as if it will dry his clothes faster. Whatever vulnerability you showed when he pulled you out was already gone. “If your stupid little ass didn’t wander off, we won’t be here right now.”

“Hey,” he protests, walking over to where you are, boots leaving behind a damp trail. “I just saved your ass back there.”

“Okay, and?”

Sully blows out a breath. You can see the frustration seeping through his façade.

“Get up, we need to find our way back.”

You roll your eyes but don’t protest, knowing he’s right. He doesn’t bother to help you up as he walks away and you don’t bother calling his name as you stagger behind, sniffling and coughing still.

Trekking the forest is much harder with your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. You’ve never explored this part so it was much harder to navigate, though Jake Sully doesn’t seem as worried as you are. Your legs are tired and your nose still has not recovered from the water you inhaled. You’d love nothing more than to be back in your human form and actually breathe.

It’s nearing eclipse and the two of you are still deep in the forest. Your clothes have not fully dried but not as damp as before but as night creeps closer, the temperature slowly drops and you shiver every now and then.

“We won’t make it back to camp in time,” you say, pushing back leaves in your way. Sully, ever the gentleman, doesn’t so much as help you jump over rocks, letting you clamber your way up like a soaked baby koala.

“No shit.”

“You are so fucking annoying.”

Sully huffs, turning around to look at you. “So are you.”

You jab a finger in his direction, growing more aggravated each passing second. “Shut the fuck up. If it wasn’t for your sorry, stupid as fuck fucking ass, we won’t be here, okay? We could be back in the lab right now — I could be back in the lab right now and resting on that very stupid and inconvenient bunk but no! I am stuck here with you of all people!”

“Hey—”

“I could have died and it would have been your fault.”

Jake Sully stops and you try to swallow the emotions, try to stop the burning sensation behind your eyelids. You are far more collected than that, far more articulate and definitely far more level-headed if it were a better day but you nearly died. Every breath still hurts your lungs and your body aches in places you never thought it could hurt.

He holds up a hand between you, as if conjuring up some healthy boundaries. You think he looks a little conflicted and it’s a fresh look on him.

“Listen kid.” Oh, you hate that condescending tone. “You and I, we need to work together, alright? If you wanna survive, you follow what I say. You don’t want to? Okay—” he makes a grand gesture of spreading his arm, as if giving you liberty, “—I’ll leave you out here to really die. Your choice.”

You scowl at him, fighting the urge to just reach up and grab at his face and squeeze so hard his eyeballs would pop out. But between the two of you, it’s the marine who knows more about survival skills than you ever could so you comply, grumbling after him in the darkness.

“This better not include more cliff jumping,” you remark, kicking pebbles along the way.

“We need to make a fire,” he announces. You stare at his back, wondering if he hit his head when you jumped off.

“How the fuck are we going to do that?”

“Do you have matches?”

You mutter some more nasty comments as you tap on your clothes, checking the pockets. You find a box of it on a pouch on your chest, pulling it out to find it dripping.

“Well,” you hold it between your fingers, watching as water drips, drips, drips on the dirt, “isn’t that lovely.”

Jake Sully curses, searching his pockets. He stills when a growl comes from behind the bushes, and the sound glues you to your spot. You unconsciously take a step toward him, listening intently as he mutters a silent victory, fishing out a lighter.

“Quick, rip a seam off your shirt.” He’s already plucking dry branches off a plant to his left.

“What?”

“We need to make a fire.”

You tug uselessly on the flap of your shirt. “How is this going to help?”

Sully stares at you with wide eyes, his jaw clenched. “Fucking Christ,” he shoves a branch on your hands and grips your clothes. You gasp as he rips a good portion of your polo, leaving you in tattered cargo and an undershirt. “You won’t survive a day out here.”

You push the stupid branch back on his palms. “I wasn’t made to survive here, I’m a scientist. If I asked you what a Loreyu is, you wouldn’t know a single shit about it too.”

He ignores you. You watch as he ties the fabric on the end of the stick, dipping it on a curved leaf that has collected sap. He hands it to you before doing the same thing to his own piece of clothing and stick.

He flicks the lighter on and brings it to the saturated fabric. It catches fire immediately and you see a lot better now.

Another growl resonates, closer this time. Sully says nothing else as he grabs your wrist, torches in hand, and runs.

It seems all you’re meant to do this day is run and to be frank, you don’t think you have it in you to do so. Your legs give out as you reach a clearing, a pond shimmering in the night. It is a pain to admit but you’re thankful for Sully’s grip on you or else you would have dug your face on the forest floor.

“Shit, kid—”

“I’m alright,” you heave, dragging your feet so you’re kneeling. “I’m alright.”

Your reprieve is short-lived when something pounces behind you. You choke back a scream, ignoring the twitching pain on your ankle and scrambling to stand up. There’s a blur of black dancing in your peripheral and soon, there’s a whole pack of them surrounding you.

Jake Sully snarls, swishing his torch in a wide arc. You do the same, your back glued to his, your heart beating an erratic rhythm in your chest.

“Viperwolves,” you say.

“How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know!” You thrust your weapon forward as another one of them attempts to jump on you. “With a gun?”

“We don’t have a gun,” he grunts.

“As if I don—”

You scream as a Viperwolf pounces on you, sending you skittering away from your partner. Your torch is nowhere in sight and you’re far too panicked to think straight. Its large mouth is right at your face, sharp teeth inches away from your face.

This is it. Six years on this moon and you meet your fate like this. What a gruesome, sad ending. You don’t bother fighting, closing your eyes and flinching as it lets out a snarl before attacking you.

The pain never came.

You think you hear something, hear it whimper and the others scuttle off, but Jake Sully is already dragging you away.

There’s a ringing in your ears and his voice sounds so far away but your eyes are clear. You see him so vividly. Tommy.

“Hey, hey.” He makes a show of snapping his fingers to your left, to your right. “Talk to me, come on.”

It was the same thing he said when you almost drowned in a pool back on Earth. You were eight and stupid, taking a dip unsupervised, feeling like such an adult as you tried to imitate the others who were learning to swim as a part of their Avatar Training Program.

Tommy had found you nearly unconscious, calling and shouting for anyone as he rubbed and slapped at your back, throwing up water.

“Hey,” he had said, wiping away water on your face, “talk to me, come on.”

You had burst into tears right then, clinging to him and never letting go until you fell asleep. For a long time, he had been the only safe place you ever knew and seeing him in Jake Sully in the same situation makes your throat close up.

“M’fine,” you warble. You don’t see the woman who saved you speaking softly as she holds a palm to the Viperwolf that nearly bit your head off.

When you hear faint footsteps retreating, you think Jake Sully has left you out here, but he’s crouched over your form, looking over his shoulder.

He pushes you up despite your protests, shy of dragging you on the dirt by your arms. He’s got a hold on your wrist again, dragging you through the forest again. It is disorienting, all of it. From being chased by a Thanator, jumping off a cliff and nearly drowning, to being attacked by a Viperwolf — paired with your fatigued body, your knees rattle as you blindly follow Sully.

You hear him talking, a string of slurred words. The forest is melting, a spiral of blues and greens, until your vision vignettes and there’s nothing at all.

MORE NOTES when i said this was a slow burn, i wasn’t planning on this slow. but! our boy tsu’tey will finally show up in the next chapter. i’m just happy how we’ve slowly opened reader’s relationships with other characters, and here’s to unraveling them while building up new ones!

TAGLIST @cullenswife @hannibalelijah @neytemsgf @syviiss @katsukiswrld @lovekeeho

THE TRACKLIST I CANT

Spider, what are you WEARING??? 😭😭⁣⁣

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Fr though, that pic of him on the beach embodies the fandom’s reaction to the movies’ delay⁣⁣

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