I Loved Thissss!!! I Cried JSDFHDEfgr U DID GREAT :)) I'd Love A Part 2!!

I just wanna say something real quick.

I love all of you so much, and don't get me wrong, I love seeing you guys read my work.

Please don't take this the wrong way.

Why don't you guys reblog? I'm just looking at the like to reblog ratio on my most recent fics and drabbles and it's honestly so disappointing. And it's not just on my fics, I've noticed it on my friends fics too.

Here are two examples:

And yeah, those reblog numbers aren't the lowest but you've gotta keep in mind that a lot of those are me responding to comments or doing timezone reblogs to make sure my friends are seeing it in the first place. So, half those numbers at least is how many people are sharing my work with their friends. Half.

Tumblr doesn't work like twitter or tiktok or any of the other social media platforms where likes get your work circling the community. On tumblr, only reblogs do that.

And why wouldn't you want to share something you enjoyed? Because you'll be embarrassed? Because people might think "oh this person's weird" and unfollow you? If that's what they think of you, then they weren't worth keeping on your page in the first place.

Surround yourself with people and blogs who're into the same things you are. Who's gonna see you share a fic and go "ooo lemme read it too."

Reblogging is how you support authors on this hellsite, and I don't think we're asking for much when we ask you to share our work. You don't even have to put anything in the tags or write a comment if you don't want to - it's okay. Seeing you share it is more than enough. (Though we do love seeing your reactions)

Please. Support your authors. Show them some love. Share their work.

OH LORDDD THE ANGST.... IM INVESTED

Cruel Summer | Chapter I: August

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: You and Neteyam have been friends since you were children, and you taught each other everything, from English and Na'vi, to movie references and hunting, to everything about your own and the other's bodies. It was the perfect friendship-with-benefits, on paper. But how long can it last in the face of all that stands to tear it apart?

A/N: I'm so excited to say my new Neteyam series is officially here, and I hope you enjoy the first chapter!! This was for some reason one of the easiest and at the same time, one of the hardest piece i've ever written, like some parts came to me almost instantly and others I STRUGGLED WITH, besties. I hope it's not super disjointed and that you're as excited as me to embark on this journey. Thank you for your patience and can't wait to hear your thoughts. As always, I deeply appreciate your replies, reblogs, likes and follows, they mean so much x ly besties xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to August here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

Your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you

There was so much about you and Neteyam’s relationship, if you can even call it that, that was wrong and unsightly, that was forbidden and hidden. But, as you stood in the forest, propped on your elbows, taking in the sun shining brightly through the leaves and his toned, azure back, on which patterns of the forest branches rippling in the breeze formed, you couldn’t care less if you tried. In these moments, fleeting and irreplaceable, life was everything you’ve ever wanted, more than you could have ever dreamt, and enough to keep you going. In these moments, there were no humans and Na’vi, no impending doom, no animosity over your presence in the village, no hatred emanating from Neytiri’s entire being whenever her intense and prying eyes spotted you or Spider in the crowd or amongst her kids, no woman that would soon be bearing Neteyam’s children, there was nothing else, but him and you and the promise of hushed confessions and wandering hands, of lingering stares and breakable heaven. 

You couldn’t help be drawn by the silent invitation of his body, so tempting and beautiful, so big and different to yours, but just similar enough to allow for… certain enjoyable, mind-blowing pastime activities that were sure to occupy the time and every ounce of free space in your mind, and your soul, and your entire being. Your hand trailed on his back, from the nape of his neck to the band of his loincloth, moving over the scratches that you left on him just a couple hours ago, over the healed scars he got from battles and hunts that you could name and describe each of by heart, and you drew your name on his back with your fingers and the air beneath them as ink, hoping this way you’d mark him, this way you could keep him forever. Pushing the unpleasant thought aside, you playfully tugged at the purple fabric covering him. He turned around on his side to face you, his defined abs and chest fully on display, and the way he eyed you, desperate and needy, full of hunger and desire, made your stomach churn and core throb. 

“What do you think you’re doing, ma Vol?” 

Your mouth curved in a mischievous grin, which turned into a full-blown laugh as he grabbed your much smaller hands in one of his large blue ones and with very little visible effort, stretched your arms above your head and manoeuvred you on your back on the mossy, comfortable grass. He hovered over you, his smile mirroring your own from just a few moments ago, and he tapped the mask currently providing the oxygen needed to keep you alive with his index finger, the sound ringing in your ears like bells in a church. 

“I would give anything to not have this in the way right now.” 

“Me too. Death by make-out with a hot blue 9 something foot tall alien? There are worse ways to go.” 

He shook his head at you and scoffed, but you could tell he was amused. The desire you felt for him instantly diminished as the thought of the fact he would be heading home soon enough, home to his family and his new mate, crept unwelcome in the back of your mind and slowly moved forward, until it was everything, until it was the only thing. 

“Do you have to go back soon?”

He sighed and let you go, plopping himself back on the grass next to you, chest up and looking at the sky and the clouds moving above you, and all the shapes they made as they passed you by. 

“You know I do.” 

You knew. You’ve known for years, ever since the first time you and Neteyam started this game of hide and seek with the rest of the village, with each other, and with yourselves, that this was temporary, that one day, he would belong to someone else, and all you would be able to do is watch.

Salt air, and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more

Whispers of "Are you sure?", "Never have I ever before"

Your and Neteyam’s lives could not be more different. You were human, a tiny, inconsequential human, left behind after the war, unable to be hooked to cryo, so you stayed with the scientists who were fortunate enough to be allowed safe haven on this planet that was now as much their home as it was the Omatikaya’s. You knew nothing of Earth, other than stories told to you by your surrogate family and from whatever form of art they had with them, that brought them the comfort of a home long forsaken, but never forgotten. In time, it brought you comfort, too, knowing what Earth used to be like, knowing that humans were not just monsters, but had it in them to be smart, and kind, and funny, to create beautiful music, and poetry, to combine words, words that everybody had access to and everyone could speak, combine them in such a way that it brought tears in your eyes or happiness in your heart, that made you think and ponder about the meaning of growth, the meaning of love and laughter and life and death. It was beautiful, they were beautiful, and - you hoped - so were you.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You and Neteyam shared many firsts throughout your 19 years of friendship. Despite your differences, despite your incompatibility and despite so many challenges facing you, despite both knowing it was most likely wrong and shouldn’t have happened, you always found solace in each other. You found yourselves in each other. You were each other’s first kiss, first sleep over, first flirtatious touch and first wandering hands, first make-out, first second base and first third base, first secret affair. Everything you knew about each other’s bodies, about your own bodies, you learned together. What makes each other tick, what makes each other tickle, what makes each other cum. In time, you knew everything about the other and you made sure you took advantage of that knowledge as often as you could. 

The first time you and Neteyam ever kissed was when you were both 12, both innocent children, both curious. At that time, he was not a lot bigger than you, as it turns out humans stopped growing in height a lot sooner than Na’vi did. Now, your full body reached his lower ribs, but at the time, he was only about a head taller than you. It was short and sweet, and so so innocent, and yet, it never left you. That kiss, which at the time was just fulfilling a curiosity more than anything else, started a complicated and convoluted journey that was full of potholes, full of tight swerves and icy roads, full of dangers and darkness, but a journey worth taking nonetheless, because in the short periods of clear skies and sun-kissed warmth, it had the most heavenly sights and luminous vistas, and it was everything. 

The first time you shared a bed, you were 15. Actually, a bed is a very loose term. In reality, it was just a mess of sheets in one of the recreation rooms that no other human or avatar really frequented, outside of you and Spider. It was large and tall, and had a huge screen where you usually watched movies whenever the Sullys came by to visit. Neteyam taught you Na’vi and he, being the dutiful son and soldier that he was, would come by to learn English at least once a week when he was young, knowing it would one day come in helpful against the humans. He didn’t say it, but you knew he also did it to be more like his dad, yet another way he emulated the Toruk Makto.

His favourite way to learn is with you, as you were also learning as you went along, and both of your favourite way to learn is by watching Earth videos, and movies and tv shows, and trying to figure out what the references meant, what the idioms meant, how to use slang that made no sense to your ears without the scientists explaining it to you. When you were alone, sometimes, you liked to make your own meaning for phrases, and laughed at your own little private jokes that no one else would ever be privy to. One of those evenings, that started with studying, and a marathon of Friends, ended with tangled limbs and soft snores, covered in blankets and the warmth of each other’s bodies. It was so innocent, and so childlike, and so was the second kiss you’ve ever shared, that happened in between giggles and The One Where Ross Finds Out, where the tension that erupted between Ross and Rachel and the kiss that resulted off it, prompted a philosophical discussion around physical displays of affection and what the big deal about it was. After trying it out for yourselves, you concluded it was overrated.

That didn’t last long, as your first make-out came soon after, a little less innocent and definitely less childlike. You discovered maybe there was some truth in those shows, and you discovered that you both enjoyed the tingling on your skin and the butterflies in your stomach that each other’s touch provided. That lasted for a few years, and eventually progressed into this, whatever this was. Initially, it was just curiosity. Then it became about how good release felt, how necessary it was, how much the pleasure helped both of you unwind and go about your day, forget about frustrations about the labs, and training, and parents and surrogate families, it could all be solved by each other’s bodies. It was purely self-indulgent, it was friends with benefits at its finest.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

But life never stopped around you, and the world didn’t stop around you, as much as it felt like it had when it was just the two of you. You both grew up, and while you were still the same human, still doing the same things and having the same limitations that would always plague you, Neteyam’s world was a constant whirlwind of which you were just a small breeze. In time, he took his Iknimaya and Uniltaron, he became a man, and a revered warrior, despite being only 19. Early last week, he even got a mate, and will soon consummate that mateship, and he will be bonded with her for life, and you will be just a part of the past, just a small reminder of his childhood, just a dull ache in a mass of growing pains. 

“What are you thinking about, ma Vol?” 

You smiled softly as his nickname pulled you out of your musings. Vol. He first called you that when you were kids, and he found out that on Earth, the eight month of the year, when you were born, was called August. The Na’vi had a name for August, and it was vospxìvol, and after the first time the word ever left his lips, so did any other name for you disappear from his mind. To everyone else, you were Y/N. To him, you were his Vol. His never-ending summer, your warmth surrounding him for all time, your day eclipsing his darkest nights. 

You wanted to be honest. To tell him what you thought about, what occupied your every other thought, what weighed on your heart so heavily it felt like it would overtake you, every day, all day, was him. It was how much, despite your unspoken agreement that this was purely physical, it got to mean more to you in time. It was how much you loved him, desperately and unconditionally, impermeably and forever. You wanted to tell him that you knew the rules, you knew that whatever this was couldn’t last, wouldn’t last, but there’s nothing more you wanted in this life than a way to make it last, to make him yours. That you curse your life every day that you will never be able to understand this world the way you were meant to, that you would never understand the bond the Na'vi have with it and with the beings in it, with each other, and that the thought of his queue, the most intimate part of him, a direct influx into his thoughts and feelings, connecting to someone else’s, made you sick to your stomach, made bile and acid gather in your mouth until it burned everything in its wake as you had to swallow you back down where it belonged. 

You felt stubborn tears pricking at your eyes and forced yourself to push them back away. Neteyam was your best friend, was the man that knew you more intimately than anyone else ever would and still, there were somethings better left unsaid, some cans of worms that would spoil even the most unfastidious of appetites. 

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

“Just thinking about how I’m going to be able to explain all of these marks on my body, you fiend. I think I’m running out of ideas, there are only so many rashes Norm won’t get worried about, and only so many clothes that will cover all traces of you on me. I don’t have the luxury of shopping for more clothes, you know?” 

Neteyam laughed and you knew you were out of the woods and that he wouldn’t pry anymore. It was time for you to go back, time for you to deal with the unfairness of the universe in your own room, under the cover of darkness and solitude, drowning your senses in music and mindless entertainment. 

“Take me home?” 

He turned his back to you and knelt, waiting. You smiled at his unspoken way of telling you to get on his back, and obliged, attaching to him like a backpack. In reality, this was easier for him than walking next to you, as you were slow and a far cry from his nimble and athletic capabilities. Plus, it meant he got to keep you close a while longer, got to feel his heart beating on his back and your chest moving as you inhaled, and your breath in the crook of his neck. It was much better than walking. It didn’t take long for Hell’s Gate to appear into view, the big, mostly decrepit ruin of a city left behind by the humans large enough that it could be spotted from miles away. It was Jake’s decision as Olo’eyktan to have the Omatikaya village close-by, an attempt at keeping close to the scientists and uniting the two worlds, both of which you had a foot in, but nothing more - enough to not be homeless, never enough to truly belong in either.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” 

The silence was very loud, and you sighed in a desperate attempt to fill it. 

“You know you can say you’re going to see her. I’m not under any illusion that you have no contact with the woman you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with when you’re not with me.” 

It was his turn to sigh, and you found yourself regretting ever asking. 

“I know, but still…” 

“Yes?” 

“You and me… it’s… I -…” 

You chuckled bitterly. Neteyam wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a man who always knew what those words would be when they did come out of his beautiful mouth. He never blabbered, or got flustered, he was the most poised and sure of himself person you’ve ever met. And yet here he was, mind blank and uncertain tone, and you felt relieved, at least to some extent, that he wasn’t completely unaffected by this whole situation, that you weren’t going through this completely by yourself. 

“I know.”

“I love you, you know?” 

That you did know. 

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"

And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was living for the hope of it all

Neteyam’s mind tortured him today more than most other days, as so many memories of your life together enveloped him, and the warmth they provided was quickly dispersed by thoughts of a face, a new face, a known and yet strange face, the face of the woman he’s been promised to. They wrestled with images of your face, beautiful and alien, so different from everything he knew and yet so familiar, of your body that he knew so intimately, that he knew better than his own, images of it trembling under him, of your parted lips and the moans that escape it, of your eyes he dreamt about each night shut tightly as each orgasm washed over you, of your hands that always found their way to his back or his ass, pushing him deeper in you, or in his hair, pulling on it or tugging it behind his ear.

It’s been almost two years since the first time he’s known you like this. The first time, it was awkward and strange, there was so much fumbling and so much that neither of you knew, and despite how many movies you watched, there was very little information on Na’vi and human… relationships, so it took a lot of trial and error to get to where you were at now, a point of no return, a point of unspeakable pleasures and feelings that ran so deep, they’d put most oceans to shame. Feelings that he hid, because speaking them out loud would lead to only heartbreak. What you two had worked. It’s worked for so long, neither of you knew anything else. You were best friends, you knew everything about each other. So why would he ever risk it? Why would he ever ruin it, since there was no future anyway?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Neteyam knew that what you did was wrong. It was wrong, but it never felt wrong. It felt so right. Despite all of your differences, despite all of the ways you could never be together, despite the fact that he could never form tsaheylu with you, nothing compared to the feeling of you falling asleep with your limbs all over his torso, with your head in the crook of his neck. Nothing compared to the connection he felt when he sank in you and you looked in each other’s eyes, and it felt like he could hear all of your thoughts, feel everything you were feeling, and he knew you did, too. In those moments, he thinks you both knew that what you had was far away from what it was always intended to be, and far away from how simple he thought it was when you first started it.

Because now there was someone else. Another woman, a woman that he’d have to bond with, have babies with, start a family with, a woman he had to love. A woman that wasn’t you. And while the thought of it made his skin crawl, so did the thought of disappointing his parents and his clan, who he would lead one day, by refusing, by not following through, by admitting he’s been engaging in these sort of relationships with a human, an alien. A demon. His mother could barely stomach you and Spider as her kids’ friends, Neteyam knew she’d have a heart attack is she were to hear about the activities you and her son got up to on a daily basis. 

Your chuckles ceased his train of thought, and he was glad. 

“You can put me down now, Teyam.” 

The gate to the big metal complex was so close to Neteyam he could feel the smell of metal inundating his nose and coating his tongue. He hated this smell, and he hated this place. You were the only good thing about it. 

“Sorry. Got lost in thoughts.” 

He heard the unmistakable sound of an oxygen mask being removed and his heart booming in his ears as panic took over him instantly, but he had no time to react to it as you turned his face towards you and placed your lips on his in a needy, desperate kiss that made him weak in the knees, that redirected his galloping heart from panic to desire, to ache… to love. Once you broke the kiss, Neteyam watched as you gasped for air and helped you tightened the mask over your face again, and then jumped from his back and onto the ground. 

“What was that for?” 

“Just saying thank you for a good day.” 

Just saying please don’t forget me once you reach her tent tonight. 

There was still a lot of commotion in the labs as you made your way through the corridors to reach your bedroom, and despite your body telling you it’s exhausted and needs sleep, you instead put on a lab coat and joined them, since you knew that going to bed meant unnecessary suffering and putting your mind through scenarios it didn’t need to think about just yet, not when they would all become reality soon and there was no point in living through it twice. You were surprised to find Spider in one of the cell culture labs, chatting animatedly with Norm. He smiled widely as he spotted you, and you tried your best to reciprocate and push aside all the ugly feelings plaguing you. 

“Hey, everyone.”

“Hi, gorgeous.” 

You knew Spider had a crush on you, and that he has had a crush on you for a while now. You weren’t sure if the crush was on your per se, or just on the only person who shared a similar age and species with him, but you didn’t have it in you to ever question him or turn him away. He was a good friend, and a good guy, and who knows? Maybe it was fate that you two were the only human children on Pandora, maybe it was fate that you were here together at the same time. Maybe despite your mind convulsing in pain just at the thought of him, thought of anyone else but Neteyam, he was who you would end up with, your only chance at lasting love, at a family. Maybe life was less about what you want, less about what makes you happy and more about the greater good, the greater purpose, the ability to make something out of nothing. Maybe. 

“What have you been up to today, kid?” 

“Not much, just training with Neteyam. Can’t you tell by my bulging muscles?” 

Norm removed his eyes from the microscope they were glued to, in order to eye you intently up and down. 

“All I can tell is that rash is not getting any better. You need to use the hydrocortisone cream I put in your room.” 

You prayed that neither men couldn’t see the blush that made your cheeks so hot from the inside out, you were struggling to keep your hands by your side and not fanning your face aggressively. 

“Will do, Norm. Need any help?” 

He thought about it for a while, then pointed to one of the incubators. 

“You can split the cells? I was going to ask Harry to do it, but since you’re here and want to help…” 

You smile at the chance to keep your mind occupied at least for a little while, at chance to not think about whatever it was that Neteyam was doing with another girl, with someone else that wasn’t you. 

The next few weeks passed in a blur, and so much has changed in your life, it was hard to keep track. The humans have officially returned to Pandora, and in their return, obliterated endless amounts of precious forest, of natural resources, of life that will never come back, that will always be mourned and missed. You were all forced to move camp, deep in the Hallelujah mountains, where the Flux Vortex was too powerful to allow for detection. It was painful and scary, and you felt numb as you had to say goodbye to the only home you’ve known for 19 years, to the forest and to the village. You couldn’t imagine how to villagers felt, how the Sullys felt… how Neteyam felt. There was only one thing that made this time bearable, and that was the fact that Neteyam’s mateship was postponed until things settled down. It was only temporary, and it meant very little in the grand scheme of things, but you were just happy you didn’t have yet another earth-shattering event clawing at your insides, ripping you to shreds. 

The relief didn’t last long, though, as Neteyam might not be sleeping with another girl, but he was also not sleeping with you anymore, either. The move and the new quarters meant a lot less privacy and a lot less space. You were fortunate enough to have your own room in the new labs, but the room was tiny and sharing a wall with Norm and Max. Neteyam was forced to move back into his parents’ tent, which meant the two of you never got a chance to be together at night anymore. He hasn’t come to visit you since the last time he took you back to Hell’s gate, and that was almost 2 weeks ago.

Today, you were hoping to change that. Today, you would ask him to take you to a different floating rock, or on an Ikran ride, or anywhere else but here, in this place that felt stifling and suffocating, this place that couldn’t, wouldn’t feel like home, no matter what. You missed him. You needed him. He had been the calm in all the chaos of your mind your whole life, and especially now, the spiralling felt particularly dizzying, the current particularly hard to navigate. 

As you were mindlessly pipetting some treatments of some cells, your mind wandered to the Sullys, all of whom were away today. The kids were in the forest, exploring woods that were no longer particularly safe to navigate. You knew they didn’t care, but still couldn’t help roll your eyes at the sheer irresponsibility. They asked you to come, but getting into any more trouble with Neytiri, or risking running into any humans didn’t particularly appeal to you. On the other hand, Neteyam and his parents were on a family hunt, a sweet tradition that has begun soon after Neteyam completed his Iknimaya and continued since, running of 6 years. 

Spending time with the Sullys was for sure one of your favourite ways to pass the time. The kids have always loved and welcomed you and Spider into their lives and their family, no matter how much Neytiri might have tried to influence them otherwise. Though Kiri found Spider her closest friend, you and her still loved hanging out together, loved being in each other’s companies, loved speaking for hours on end about everything and nothing. Kiri was drawn to humans, as Lo’ak was, and they took to your culture, your different ways of being, and thinking and existing, more so than any other Na’vi you knew. You assumed a lot of it had to do with their own differences to the clan, differences that while to you were insignificant, to them and to the Omatikaya, it meant the difference between a true Na’vi and a half-breed, an alien. Their slightly atypical appearance, which they shared with Jake, could be overlooked in him, as he was the Olo’eyktan, the Toruk Makto, the man that helped Eywa save their planet and their clan from certain death, but unfortunately for both his kids, that courtesy rarely extended to them.

Neteyam and Tuk looked all Na’vi, and could both pass as twins of their mother’s appearance at different stages of her life. Neteyam was the prince of the Omatikayan rule. He was tall and handsome, he was lean and muscular, and while his face was his mother’s, his body was definitely his father’s. Neteyam was a warrior. Through and through, he was forged in fire, with metal bones and razor-sharp teeth. He was forged to be unbreakable, to be the hope of the clan, the heir to the throne, the perfect son, the greatest soldier. Neteyam was one of the youngest Na’vi to go through his second birth after completing his Iknimaya and Uniltaron. He is the last man to get a bow made from the original Home Tree, that was burned to the ground almost 20 years ago. He was the epitome of the Omatikaya, and he wore all of these hats proudly, and he fought permanently to be worthy of them. Neteyam didn’t know what it was like to disappoint his parents, or his people. Unlike Lo’ak, he couldn’t afford to. Because of Lo’ak, he couldn’t afford to. He was willing to give anything… everything up in order to live up to the unrealistic expectations placed on him, because to him, that’s the only way to live. You admired him, admired his resolve and admired his will. You didn’t understand it, but you were human. You were selfish in nature, and you didn’t think that was a bad thing. You didn’t think being a little selfish sometimes was bad. In your mind,  you shouldn’t have to live only for others. You only had one life, a short life, and that life should be lived, and that life should be enjoyed. That was a cause of a great deal too many arguments between you and your best friend, and it is something you will never see eye to eye on. 

Norm’s aggressive entrance made you yelp out in surprise, and so did his face, contorted in pain and fear, so unlike the kind, calm and chipper one you’ve gotten to know throughout the years. 

“Get ready. Jake radioed me, the kids were attacked by the humans. They’re coming back now, so let’s make sure we have supplies prepared, so we can patch them up.” 

You felt a shudder overtake your body, and your hands, holding a pipette in one hand and a centrifuge tube in the other, felt limp and weak, felt like the weight was too much for your body to reasonably take. 

You got up from your chair almost robotically, feeling our mind blank as the information stewed and settled in it, until it reached a point it was the only thing ringing through your otherwise deafened ears. 

“Come on, honey.” 

“A-are…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, couldn’t even bring your mouth to speak the words that were haunting your soul, that were constricting your heart.You were out of your mind with worry, so much worry, it was permeating through every cell of your being and bringing out toxins you didn’t even know resided in you, poisoning your blood and and making you pant, making you want to scream in anguish at the possibility of your honorary siblings, of him, being in any way hurt, in any way touched by any of the humans. 

“I think they’re alright. A little banged up, and probably terrified, but I think they’re ok. Jake didn’t say much, so let’s be prepared for everything. Get suture kits, and gauze, get numbing cream, the works.” 

You were grateful for Norm, now and always, for how he’s been more of a father figure to you than you could have ever anticipated or even hoped for. He’s loved and cared for you and Spider like you were his own, and you will never be able to repay him for all the attention and affection, but you strived to make him proud, strived to be a good student, a good scientist, a good person, a good daughter. That’s one of the reasons why you spent a lot of your time in Hell’s gate in the adjacent forest, and less time in the village. One of the reasons. 

As you got out of the labs and were hit by the warm thin air of the Omatikaya stronghold, you gasped as your eyes landed on Neteyam, who had deep cuts that leaked blood, like your eyes were leaking tears, both dropping carelessly, his on the ground, yours gathering at the bottom of your mask. His face cleared up as it spotted you in the crowd, and a quick look of easement panned across his features, and for a second, just a second, it felt like there was no one else in this world but you two, like this planet was an empty void kept alive and spinning by the magnitude of your love, by the gravity of the feelings pulling you towards each other, electrifying the air around you.

Your feet carried you forward with a mind of their own, and before you knew it, you were running, dropping the bag of supplies on the floor and pushing people out of the way - or at least trying to, not very successful when you were as strong as a literal toddler. The relief you felt overtook all your other thoughts, all your discernment of your circumstances and you surroundings, all the self-awareness of the situation and the knowledge you had to keep your feelings under wraps. It all went out the window as you jumped in Neteyam’s arms and circled your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips and although he winced in pain, he immediately tightened his grip and you and pulled you in closer. 

You moved until you came face to face with him, and you eyed him attentively to make sure he was alright, that he was really here and safe. 

“Are you -?” 

“I’m fine, ma Vol.” he smiled at you, and you could tell he was trying to tell you something by the way his eyes moved from yours to behind you. You were scared to follow his gaze, terrified to look behind you and see Neytiri glowering at you, and the confused, maybe scandalised faces of the rest of the Na’vi. So you didn’t. You got down and moved in line to all the rest of your surrogate siblings, doing a similar ritual, so as to not stand out from Neteyam’s. Lo’ak was happy to kneel and open his arms wide for you, and you appreciated this boy you loved so much more in this moment than you could ever tell him. He always knew what to do, he understood you well, just like you understood him. 

You finished with Spider, who looked a little more hurt than all the rest of them, and you knew it’s because, unlike them, his bones weren’t made with naturally occurring carbon fibre, so his body suffered a lot more every time something didn’t go to plan. It pained you to see him like this, hurting and bruised, and it hurt you more to see the anguish and fear haunting his eyes. You touched his arm and smiled softly as heat spread out where your hands traced his injuries, and when he looked at you, he shook his head, signalling for you to not question him any further, at least not for now. You nodded silently.

As the only two humans who were born on this foreign planet, you and Spider had a special bond. You had to, you had to stick together, because no one else really understood what either of you were going through except the other. He would always be the only one who understands the pain of being stuck in this body that was weak and feeble, that only one who understood the loneliness, the deep-seeded and monstrous loneliness that plagued you, the only one who understood what it was like to want something you can never have, like a chance to be one of the people, the chance to have a family, the chance at being accepted, the chance at being loved fully and without restraint, without pushback, without secrets. Spider has loved Kiri his whole life. You knew that. You also knew how hard he was fighting against it, how hard he was trying to convince himself he liked you instead, the only person on this planet that was made for him, whose body was compatible with his. Forbidden love is one of the many similarities you two shared. 

A small scream woke you up from your musings and you all snapped your head towards the sound that you now saw came from a woman, about your age, one that you knew very well, one that, despite every rational thought telling you otherwise, you hated with every fibre of your being. The woman. The dreaded woman that would one day be the mother of Neteyam’s children, the woman he’d wake up next to every day of his life, the woman he’d touch, and hold, and fuck. The woman he’d love. The woman that wasn’t you. 

“Oh, Great Mother! Oh, Eywa!” Her steps were wide and rushed, and in no time at all she made her way through the crowd and stopped just in front of Neteyam’s body, and carefully traced her long, slender fingers on his body. She looked panicked and forlorn, desperate to make sure her mate-to-be was unharmed. She gasped as her gaze landed on his many bleeding scratch wounds, and took him by the hand as she pulled on his arm, willing him to go with her.

“Yawne, come on. I will prepare healing salves for you in my tent. Let’s go.” 

You tried to swallow the bitterness that gathered in your mouth to no avail, as the lump that seemed like it had settled in your throat, never to leave you again, prevented it. You felt the familiar sting of tears gathering in your eyes and demanding to be released down your face, and knew you had to pull it together. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the time to think of how you’ve always been the one to heal Neteyam, it was always your hands trailing over his wounds, it was your hands that sutured his bleeding gashes, the one that made sure he wouldn’t ever scar, because the thought of anything marring his beautiful skin hurt you. 

“Uhm, we’re here, too, you know?” Lo’ak send a small snarky look in the girl’s direction, and Neytiri hissed at her son, threatening him to keep quiet. The girl didn’t acknowledge his words, opting to continue pulling Neteyam away forcefully. Lo’ak didn’t like her. You didn’t know why. Unlike you, he didn’t have an obvious reason. Maybe it’s how she acted like the rest of his family didn’t really exist, like they were somehow below her. Well, not the entire family. She liked Neytiri and Mo’at, and she liked Tuk. It was just Lo’ak and Kiri that she seemed to ignore. 

Your eyes remained fixed on Neteyam’s body, that was slowly getting farther away from you and closer to another woman’s tent, and you couldn’t help think how this was a fitting metaphor for your relationship and your future. He peered behind him and immediately found your face, and the look he gave you will haunt you forever. A look that told you that he loved you, that he was sorry, but he had no choice. A look that said “I wish things could be different, but they’re not”. A look that crushed your spirit and told you everything you never wanted to hear and nothing that could heal the pain currently poisoning your heart. 

Spider placed a hand on the small of your back, and with one last look at your best friend, the man you loved, you turned your back to him, to her, and to the love you felt in every cell in your body and focused on the people who needed you. You motioned for Spider and Lo’ak to follow you to the labs.

“Come. I’ll patch you up.” 

It was late at night when you finished everything you had planned on doing, and you dragged your feet tiredly to your room, eager to be alone, eager to be able to drop the facade you have had to maintain for the entire day and just release the anguish in your soul with a good crying session and some comfort show you have seen one too many times. You got into the shower and put the temperature as close to boiling as you possibly could, feeling the incessant need to burn a couple layers of skin, to remove the traces of Neteyam that will always be tattooed on you, the feeling of his lips on your body, that you could feel like he was here right now, the pressure of his hands as they tugged at your hips, as they wrapped around your throat, as they caressed your cheeks and pushed the hair out of your face. The tears that fell down your cheeks were removed as soon as they dropped, leaving only the memory of them, the images of what triggered them, of the anguished thoughts and deep pain that sank its teeth into you like a wild animal, tugging at and tearing apart everything they touched. 

As you got out of the shower, you heard the unmistakable sound of the door sliding open, and of something falling on the floor with a loud clank, and you knew exactly who it was. Your entire body was red and puffed from the shower, including your face, on which it was obvious that you have cried for the past 30 minutes. Fuck. 

With a loud sigh, that you hoped would lower your rapid heartbeat and shallow breaths, you opened the door and came face to face with Neteyam, who was knelt on the ground, trying to pick up what he dropped on the floor. 

“Sorry.” He says meekly. “I wish I could control my tail better, but it’s always an accident waiting to happen in these tight rooms.” 

You gave him a small smile that was not reflected in your eyes, and moved past him to sit on your bed. You fixed your eyes on the ground, noting how awkward and tense the atmosphere around you was. It’s never been like this. Ever. You and Neteyam have always been comfortable around each other. Always. No matter what ever happened in your lives or around you, no matter what depths your friendship reached, no matter how many boundaries you erased or walked past, it’s always felt natural. This didn’t. 

“Why are you here, Neteyam?” 

“What do you mean why I am here? I can’t be here?” 

You scoffed. 

“You can, you just never are anymore.” 

“Vol… come on. You know it’s different now than it was in the village, in Hell’s gate. We’re going to get caught.”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t want to get caught. God forbid anybody knows you fuck me in your free time.” 

“Vol…”

You knew you were being unfair. You knew it deep in your soul that he didn’t deserve any of this. You both agreed to this. You agreed to this a long time ago, and, if you were being honest with yourself, it was you that initiated it. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The first time you and Neteyam had sex, you were both drunk. It was your 18th birthday party, and Norm and Max organised a bash that would have apparently made even Earth bashes seem tame. There was food and music and dancing, and yelling and laughter and a lot… a lot of drinks. 

So many drinks, in fact, that in the early hours in the morning, you and Neteyam stumbled back to your room, barely being able to make out the shape of the bed before crashing unceremoniously on it, giggling like a school girl when you did and the world refused to settle around you like you did in it. 

“You’re so drunk.” Neteyam said, hiccuping slightly.

“No, you’re drunk. I’m fine.” 

It was a nice change of pace, seeing Neteyam so free, so uninhibited, so… happy. His life was always busy, always messy, always difficult, having to parent 3 kids he didn’t bring into this world, picking up their slack, making sure they were safe and free, while he lived shackled to his family and his clan’s expectations, to the promise of being chieftain one day and all the sacrifices that came along with it. 

“At least I can sit up.”

“Well, you’re about twice larger than me, so you know…” you were wiggling your fingers in the air, trying to make a point, although the point got lost in the abyss, much like the rest of your mind.

“Yes?” 

“Fuck knows, lost my train of thought.” 

“Goddamn, ma Vol, you are really drunk.” 

He came and lay in your bed next to you and you immediately fastened your limbs around his torso, like he was the flame and your soul was the moth that couldn't stay away. 

“So what? It’s my birthday. I’m an adult now! If I can’t get drunk on my birthday, when can I?” 

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Do you ever think about having sex?” 

Whatever thoughts Neteyam might have had evaporated quicker than water droplets in a fire, and he found himself speechless, not a totally uncommon occurrence in your presence.

“Cause I do. I think about it all the time. I mean, we watch so many movies, and series, and all humans seem to do is have sex. I heard Norm getting it on with one of the Omatikaya chicks in the village for a while now, and, all I can think of is when the hell is it going to be my turn? My turn to know what it feels like, to get to see what the big deal is, you know?”

“I know you think about it. I know you think about it with me. I can feel it, I can feel you, whenever we fall asleep together. I know you want me, Teyam. I mean, we’ve come this far, right? Might as well go all the way.” 

“I hope you want me. Because I want you. You’re my best friend, you know everything about me. I want it to be you.”

Neteyam was doing everything in his power to ignore his increasingly harder-to-ignore erection and the way he was twitching at every word that came out of your mouth. Of course he wanted you. You were hot, and you were his. His best friend, the person he’s shared so many intimate moments with, the person that taught him everything he knew about girls, about pleasure, about so many things. But this might be a step too far, a step you could never take back. Neteyam always hoped that one day, by some miracle of the universe, you would get an Avatar, and you would get a chance to be one of the people. There’s nothing he wanted more in this world then to get to keep you forever. But, as the years went past, the possibility of that seemed less and less probable, and Neteyam knew he would have to find a mate one day, and he would have to love her and keep her, forever. He would sleep with her, and mate with her, and she would have his kids, and doing these things with you… he didn’t know how he was supposed to move on with his life like your presence didn’t permeate through every fibre of his being. 

“I do want you, Vol. But I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.” 

“It’s a great idea, Teyam. Think about it.” You chuckled to yourself, eyes shut tightly and fingers rubbing your temples, as if trying to summon the words into your brain.

“What was I saying?”

He laughed at your disorientated predisposition, realising he wasn’t in a much better condition. 

“I forgot.” You kicked your feet up in the air as you remembered. 

“Oh, yeah!! It’s a g-great idea. Because we’ve made out before, right? Multiple times. Because we’ve s-slept in the same bed before, so we know that works. Because we know each other, and we won’t tell anyone else, right? It can just be our little secret, and we have p-plenty of those anyway. Because, because… Because this way, whenever you'll get yourself a mate, you know that you will know what to do and won’t fumble around. I’m doing you a favour, if you think about it. It’s the perfect plan honestly. Foolproof.”

It was hard for Neteyam to argue with your logic, but that may be because the part of his brain that processed logic was dead now. 

The first time you and Neteyam had sex, it was awkward and painful. Turns out there is a lot more fumbling and a lot more preparation and a lot more pain involved than what it is ever portrayed on the screen, and even more so since the man you were sleeping with was twice your size, and those proportions extended to… well, everything. It took a lot of lube and a lot of patience, but you knew you would have wanted no one else to have this experience with. There was no one else in the world that could have made this what it was, something that you would cherish for the rest of your life. He was kind and considerate, and he brushed the tears from your face with his thumbs when the initial pain got too much to bear, and he waited for you to adjust to his impressive length, that felt like it would tear you apart at the seams at times, and he kissed your forehead and whispered about how well you were doing, and how good you felt, and how there was no one else he would rather be doing this with, no one else in the world, not for the rest of time.

The first time promptly led to the second time, and although it took time for you to learn each other’s bodies, in a couple months, the pleasure you felt when he touched you was indescribable, the thrill you got whenever you saw him become putty under your touch boldened you, empowered you, made you want to do this every day, all day, for as long as you lived. In time, you learnt that you liked when he praised you and he loved the sounds he could coax out of you - the louder you were, the harder he got. You both enjoyed being in control once in a while, him most of the time, you - on special occasions. The dance you partook in was intricate and complicated, it was heaven and hell, it was pleasure and pain, it was everything you shouldn’t have and everything you couldn’t keep yourself from. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

As you looked at the man sitting on the ground across from you, eyes so cried out and tired they were seeing red, you knew you had no right to spit such words in his face, but the hurt and heartache, the anger at the unfairness of it all, it was clouding your judgement, making you want to hurt him like his present and upcoming absence from your life was hurting you.

“I know you’re upset about today. I’m sorry.” He looked pained, and he refused to look at you. He looked… spent. Exhausted and sad. Way sadder than you imagined he would be, if this was just about today. Something wasn’t right.

“Why would I be upset about today? You did what you had to do. I mean, she’s going to be your mate soon, right? It’s her hands that should be healing you anyway, not mine.” You eyed the wounds on his body that were now clean, but still red, and still mostly open. “Those are going to scar, by the way.” 

He stood up suddenly. A step is all it took to reach you and his hand on your chest shot bouts of electricity all throughout your body, that you struggled to ignore. It took very little effort for him to push you back onto the bed until the warmth and softness of your blanket touched the skin that wasn’t wrapped in a towel. He followed suit, his body hovering on top of yours, and you felt his braids tickling your face and neck as his eyes bore intensely into yours. 

“Stop. I know you are upset. I wish it could have been you. You know me, Vol. You know I wish it could have been you.” 

You shook your head slightly, dreading how the tears were falling down the sides of your face and nestling in your ears. You didn’t know. Not anymore. 

“You should go, Neteyam. This isn’t right. You’re engaged to someone else. I watched her today, watched how worried she was about you, how desperate to help you, to take you away so it’s just the two of you. You’re going to mate with this girl any day now. There’s no room for me in your life anymore. Not like this, anyway.”

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The first time you and Neteyam made love came after you were both spent from taking orgasm after orgasm out of each other. You were laying on his chest, tracing each twinkling freckle on it with your index finger, making patterns, making galaxies out of the stars proudly adorning his skin, the most beautiful stars to ever exist, to you. 

Almost as if thinking out loud, you spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“You are so beautiful. It hurts me sometimes, the gaping differences between us. How dull and boring I am compared to you. How daft my skin, compared to your shiny, glowy one. How sullen my eyes look when I see them in the reflection of your bright ones, sparkling like the sun. I would give anything to look like you. Anything to be like you.” Sighing, dropping hot wet tears on his chest, you continued. “Everything would be so much easier if I looked like you.” 

Almost uncharacteristically, Neteyam’s hand cupped your cheek gently and tugged slightly until your eyes met.

“Stop. Please. You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. You always have been. Your eyes are like the planets my satellites orbit around. I see them everywhere I go, every moment of my day, every dream I dream at night, there’s nothing else besides your eyes, besides your face, and your lips. Besides the words that come out of them, that somehow guide my every thought, focus my world and let me go on. You are more than beautiful, more than any word invented in any language that we speak. You are everything, ok? Everything.” 

That did nothing to stop your tears, that fell even harder down your cheeks, forming a puddle on his chest. 

“You can’t say these things, Neteyam.”

“Why not?” 

“You know why not.”

“You can’t make me fall in love with you. And you can’t fall in love with me. What we’re doing is already complicated. Already beyond what either of us could explain to anyone we love. And that’s ok, because what we have works. But it won’t work if the feelings run deeper than what depth we’re comfortable swimming in. You’re going to leave me one day, and if you leave me and I’m in love with you, it will break me. So you can’t say things like that to me.”

He had a playful smile on his face, but his eyes were forceful and full of intensity as he got on top of you and looked down into yours. 

“I’m not going to fall in love with you, and you’re not going to fall in love with me. We got this, Vol. But I will never leave you. I could never leave you. You’re my best friend. You’re everything to me.” 

You let out a soft sob that was silenced by his lips pressing on yours and the sound was replaced by pleasured moans and whimpered sounds, of silent confessions that marked the end of comfort and the beginning of the end. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Back when we were still changing for the better

Wanting was enough, for me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call and say, "Meet me behind the mall"

He sighed as he got off from on top of you, his own tears falling on your face as he did so. He didn’t look at you as he spoke. 

“The engagement is broken.” 

The relief that flooded your mind didn’t have time to wash over you before he continued.

“Because I’m leaving. I’m leaving the Omatikaya, and so is my family.” 

You and Neteyam shared many firsts. Your first heartbreak, the one that would break your spirit and your soul and your bones and ground them into a fine dust to be blown away by the wind, would just be one of many others. 

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @netemoon @fanboyluvr

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.

Shiettttttt

Yeah I’ve been DOING HARD OK?!?!?!💢👹👹❤️‍🔥🍆🍆🖌️🎨🎨🖌️🎨

It’s 1:39AM in Japan and IM BARKING

the weasleys, circa 1995

SCREAMING RN

The F-Word

The F word

Poe Dameron X G/N reader

Rating : T+ 

Wordcount : 6500(ish)

Warnings : Angst, FLUFF, canonical style violence, mention of injury, mention of blood, talk of death, near death experience, language, idiots in love, Poe just being adorable

Summary : Poe Dameron often likes to say he's "fine", it's "fine", everything's "fine". But when a mission goes drastically wrong you no longer believe the pilot and his use of the F-Word.

A/N : Softer and fluffier than it sounds I promise…

GIF by the lovely Salome-C

Anon - I know you submitted this request forever ago. I'm sorry it took so long to write. Since I wasn't sure which prompt list you wanted number 45 form I picked number 45 from two lists:

"You're hurt. Please just let me heal it" & "I bought this. It's your favourite colour."

— — — — — —

There were two things you had quickly realised about Poe Dameron since joining the Resistance. 

The first is that the rumours were true. He actually is the best pilot in the galaxy, and much more humble about it than you would have expected. And the second, is that whenever the pilot used the word "fine", things were, in general, very much not fine. 

So listening to him grit out the word through clenched teeth, hammering buttons on the console in front of him as the ship groans and alarms blare around you, you already knew things were bad. Very, very bad. 

Glancing over at him, you can see sweat trickling down his brow, he's breathing hard, one hand pressed tightly against his side, the glistening of red peeking through his fingers. He'd insisted that the glancing blow from a vibro-knife during the fight that had you running back to your ship, had been nothing. He insisted it barely grazed him, and he'd be perfectly fine, but that you needed to leave now. And with the First Order hot on your tails, you hadn't had time to question it. That is, until now.

"Poe, please tell me that's not blood I'm seeing!"

"I said I'm fine," he growls in response, slamming his hand down on the controls before swinging the ship around in a way that has you almost thrown from your seat. 

"You're hurt! I need to patch that!" 

"Now is not the time to play medic when we have the first order busting in our cargo doors!" He shouts, clearly frustrated with your concern.

"Now's not the time for you to bleed out over the kriffin floor, either!" You yell back, redirecting your fire to take out a Tie creeping up on you. 

"I know that!" He snaps, swinging the ship again. "This is not good. Not good."

You can hear him mumbling to himself between stuttered breaths as he tries to get your hyperdrive back online, while simultaneously trying to evade the first order fire. You yourself are barely keeping pace with your shots, there's too many, too quick, and Poe's flying is too erratic. 

"Poe, I'm having some real trouble here," you shout over the noise, taking out another two ties, which are quickly replaced by more.  

"I just need…a few minutes." Something in his voice sounds wrong, it's quiet, barely whispered out above the blaring alarm. It sends fear shooting through you. 

Taking your eyes from the battle in front of you, you look back over at him. His movements are sluggish, and he groans leaning over the console. When he catches you looking, he shakes his head. 

"I'm fine. Just keep shooting."

You want to keep looking at him, to make sure he's still breathing at least, but trying to keep up with the enemy ships surrounding you needs all of your attention, and when the ship judders and groans under another hit, you have no choice but to concentrate on the battle. That is, until a soft series of beeps gets both your attention.

"Ok good. Hyperdrives up, mostly," the pilot nods, taking a deep breath. "It'll do what we need." 

Another round of fire glances off your shields, making the ship give a shudder of protest before you spin to take out the Tie circling you.

"Shields aren't going to…hold...much…l-longer.' His words are slurred and spaced as he tries to breathe through the pain every jolt of the ship must be causing him. Even with the little medical training you have, you know the amount of blood spreading out across his shirt, the amount of pain he's in, is not a good sign. 

"Poe?" 

"Just shoot!" He yells, making you flinch at his tone. 

Shoot. All you had to do was shoot. 

~

With a shudder the ship blips into hyperspace, taking a series of quick timed jumps, designed to throw off anyone who would try to follow you. When you finally come to the last jump, deep in the heart of dead space, you check the tracking console and let out a woot.

"We did it! I don't think they managed to follow us! Poe we-" the words die on your tongue as you glance over at the pilot. He's deathly pale, sweat making his hair curl at the ends, staring at the beeping console display with a frown. "Poe, you're not happy? Why aren't we happy?"

"I don't…it's fine. We'll be fine," his fingers continue tapping away, watching the flickering statistics scroll past. 

"Why aren't we happy?" You ask again quietly, worry creeping into your tone. Bringing your eyes back to the display, you pull up the same information he has, and your stomach drops. The shields were gone, life support was rapidly running out and worse your fuel tank had been hit. The last of your fuel had been burned up with the final jump, rendering the ship dead. 

Poe must see the look of horror on your face, and he constantly tries to reassure you in a soft, confident tone. The one he used on you when you went into your first battle and froze. The one he uses to talk to the new recruits when they get scared.

"Hey, don't worry, ok? I can-I can get a signal…out…everything will be fine."

Drawing your eyes back to the pilot, you watch as he doubles over, red seeping out over his fingers as he clutches his side, gasping in pain. You're out of your seat and at his side in seconds, trying to peel his hands away, so you can assess the situation. 

"Poe, you gotta let me look at it," you beg, kneeling down and placing your hands over his. 

"We don't… have time," he grits out, panting for breath.

"Yeah and I don't have time for you to go dying on me, ok? You're going to bleed out, and I'm not going to be the girl that let the poster boy of the resistance die!" You hold his stubborn gaze steady until he finally drops his hand away from his stomach. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you carefully lift up his shirt to look at the wound, flinching at his hiss of pain. Your stomach gives a sickening turn as you take in the ragged slice through his side. 

"Ok, ok, so, it probably just looks worse than it is right? Sure, you're about to tell me you're fine." You force a smile to your lips as you press your hand over the wound, attempting to stem the bleeding. 

The fact he's strangely quiet is what makes you look up again. His head lolls on his chest, eyes closed, sweat dripping off his brow, breathing…but barely. 

~

"Keep still, I'm not done." You sigh as he moves for what feels like the thousandth time as you try to stitch his wound.

"It hurts!" The pilot complains, shifting again, which earns a growl of warning from you.

"Yeah, well I'm not a medical droid, so you're gonna have to put up and stop whining about it. Or shall I just let you continue to bleed out all over the cockpit? Besides, the painkillers will kick in soon enough."

He lets out another hiss of pain, and you do feel bad, really you do. If you had a med droid it would have been quicker, easier and Poe probably would have stayed asleep for it. Unfortunately for you, he'd woken with a start, ripping half the stitches out when he tried to jump out of the pilot seat, meaning you had to start over with very little medical equipment. And since then he seemed to do everything possible to make this job harder.

Pausing in your actions, you soften your approach, letting out a sigh and trying to bite down your building fear. 

"You're hurt. Please just let me heal it?"

"I'm fine," he insists with an annoyed huff, but looking him over you can still see the sheen of sweat on his skin and the stuttered way he's breathing through the pain, especially since you had to remove his shirt to patch the wound. 

"Yeah, course you are," you mutter, pushing him back down when he tries to get up. "Please don't move. I'm not a good medic, and the resistance needs you alive."

"Disagree." He lets out a hiss of pain as you put in another stitch. "Actually, bad medic part, I might agree with."

He groans as he tries to get up again, and this time when you press him down you hold your hands against his chest, pinning him in place.

"Poe, stop! I'm serious. Sit your damn ass down and let me finish this." Something in your tone seems to make him stop, gazing up at you and giving you an almost playful smile. 

"Yes ma'am," 

"Remind me never to fly with you again," you mutter to yourself, going back to fixing a medpatch and bandage over the wound. Frowning at the blood still seeping through.

Taking off your scarf, you gently try to clean up some of the blood covering his side, checking for any further injuries. Poe gently catches your wrist, holding you still as his eyebrows pull together. 

"You know that's going to get ruined? It's your favourite one."

You frown at the fact he knows that, but then the rational part of your brain kicks in. Of course he does, you wear it everywhere. It had been a gift from home, the last thing you'd taken with you when you left for the resistance, a reminder of what you would be fighting for. You're home, everyone's homes, families, loved ones.

"Yeah well, it's just material," you shrug, refusing to look up at him, "I can get a new one."

"It's not, though, is it?" He asks softly, letting you go. From the corner of your eye you see him fingering the chain around his neck, and you know he understands. Things are most often never what they appear to be. 

You stay silent, going back to cleaning him up, and he doesn't stop you again or push you for an answer, instead he lets silence settle over you for a long moment. 

"Sorry I've been a bit of a dick. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know you're trying to help," You pause and lift your eyes to look at him, but Poe is staring at his boots.

"The state of you, I'd say you're in an immense amount of pain. If I was you, I'd have done a lot more yelling. So please don't apologise," you give him a reassuring smile, watching as his eyes flick over your face.

"Still sorry," he sighs softly. Catching your hand, he squeezes your fingers gently. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you. I just want to get you back safely."

Even though both your hands are covered in blood, and you're floating through space waiting to be blasted into stardust by the First Order, or suffocated when the life support runs out, the touch still makes your heart leap. You're fairly sure he has no idea of the crush you've been harbouring since meeting the resistance pilot, and in all honesty you're glad for that. Poe, with his good looks and reputation could have anyone he wanted, and you suspect he did. There was no need to embarrass yourself, or him, when he turned you down. 

You can't find an answer to his words, so you allow the silence to drag out for much longer than it needs to, savouring the feeling of his hand in yours. Of course, Poe wants to get you back safely. He holds himself accountable for too many deaths already, although they aren't his fault. If you died out here he'd only blame himself and that's the last thing you want. 

But you couldn't let yourself think like that. Someone would come for you and everything would be fine. There wouldn't be anymore bodies to add to his conscience today.

Letting go of his hand, you swallow hard and busy yourself clearing up the medical equipment. 

"So, Commander, how are you feeling? Let me guess, fine?" You ask, still unable to look back up at him and trying to lighten the tension threading through the cockpit. His answer is so smooth you could almost think he's had it lined up for a while now.

"Like you're just using this as an excuse to see me shirtless."

You hope he doesn't notice the way your hands fumble on the medkit at his words, or the way the heat rises to your face. Instead, you try to cover them both with a sigh and a roll of your eyes. 

"Not everyone is trying to get you naked, you know."

"I didn't say everyone. I said y-" he cuts off his own words, letting out a low whine of pain as he sits up, leaning over the console. "We gotta try and get some help or get moving before they catch up. Remind me again why we didn't bring an astromec?"

"Easy mission, in and out, non-hostile, won't need one, and BB is busy doing something for the General. I can handle this myself." 

Poe gives a huff of laughter of your impression of him, one that ends in a gasp and has his hands flying to hold his side. Your own hands automatically cover his, as though you could make any difference to the pain he's in by pressing your palm against his knuckles. 

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just don't make me laugh again," he smiles reassuringly, but you can feel his fingers trembling under yours. 

"I'm banning that word as soon as we get back. The next time you use the word fine in my presence I'll-" you pause, not sure what your actual threat would be, and it earns you a lopsided grin. 

"You'll what?"

"I'll do something terrible you won't like," you finish lamely. "Now just sit still while I see what we can do about getting a distress signal out."

~

"Fuck," the curse stutters out quietly, and he tries to cover it with a cough, but you catch the word, and the grimace of pain he tries to mask. It sends a spark of worry through you. He shouldn't still be in this much pain, not after the amount of painkillers you've dosed him with over the past hour. 

His eyes catch yours in the dim emergency lighting and despite the pain, he still manages to give you a cheeky smile. "Caught you staring. Would you rather I put my shit…urgh…shirt back on?"

"You're in pain," is your flat response, no longer even taking any notice of his lack of clothing, "can I do anything to help?"

"You can kiss me?"

The data pad you'd been holding while checking for a rescue, clatters noisily to the floor as your hands forget to work, staring at him in shock. 

"What?"

"I said you can kiss me." He wheezes out a small laugh with a grimace of pain, evidently entertained by your reaction. With a huff, you pick up the data pad, brushing down your clothes in distraction.

"Why would I do that?" 

"Because it would distract me from the pain. It's my dying wish. You have to grant it."

"You are not dying. Don't talk like that," you frown at him, your stomach twisting as you look him over. He's too pale, and all too clearly trembling from the pain.  

"Feels a lot like dying." The absolute lack of humour in his words is what worries you the most. 

Kneeling down next to him, you press the back of your hand to his forehead, fear splintering through you at the burning heat that meets your skin. Glancing down at the wound, you can see blood still slowly seeping through the bandages and your stomach lurches at the sight, well aware he shouldn't still be bleeding this much. Carefully peeling down some of the bandages, you look over the wound, taking in the black threads creeping out under his skin from the cut. It's like nothing you've ever seen before - They run like dark veins, spider webbing out across his skin, spreading further with each passing moment. You have to carefully school your expression in order to not alarm him, but Poe is the most observant person you know, and he notices even the smallest stiffen of your shoulders. 

"It's not looking good, is it?" 

"No, it's not looking good," you admit quietly, noticing he doesn't even look down for himself. 

"You know, I always thought I'd go out in battle? Pulling some heroic stunt in my X-Wing?" He sighs, leaning back in the chair and staring at the darkness through the transparisteel pane, his breathing shallow and laboured. "At least it's still out here, in the stars."

"Poe, listen, you aren't dying here. I forbid it. I order you to make it home and live a long, happy life."

He smiles, rolling his head onto his shoulder and flicking his eyes to you. It's clear the effort of holding it up is becoming too much, which only makes your heart pound harder in fear.

"I'm your boss. You don't make orders," he tries to give you a teasing grin, but he only manages a grimace. 

"I'm staging a mutiny against you. So, now I'm the boss, and I'm ordering you not to die." You hope the words come out more firmly than they feel, desperate more to keep him talking than anything else. 

"I've never been good at following orders," his lips twitch in a small smile as beads of sweat break free from his forehead, rolling down over his cheeks like tears. "I'll try, though, just for you. Need a better offer tho- fuck!" he doubles over, taking a few short shaking breaths. 

Something was wrong. Something was so terribly wrong, and you have no idea what to do, how to help. You can feel tears pricking your eyes, helplessly pressing your hands over his.

Glancing down, your heart drops into your stomach as the SOS signal still pinging away on the datapad shows nothing, no incoming ships, no planets or moons, just the empty vastness of space and the quickly running out life support. 

Poe was going to die out here. And soon after you would too. How poetic to die with the man you fell for, before you ever had the courage to tell him. Far from romantic like in the holovids you only feel a bitter disappointment of time stolen from you, and the sharp tang of fear on your tongue.  

Poe goes quiet so suddenly that you think he's already gone, his eyes drifting shut, sweat dripping off him, his breathing barely there. Jumping into action, you grab his shoulders.

"Hey no, no, no sleeping. Stay awake, ok? Poe, stay awake," you desperately shake him until his eyes open a little, blinking blearily at you as though he can't see you properly. "I'll make you a better deal, ok? How about, you stay awake and make it home alive, and then I'll kiss you. I promise. But you gotta get home alive first," you warn him, reaching up to brush his damp curls away from his forehead.

Poe affords you a small, exhausted smile, his eyes half lidded and glazed. 

"I always liked you, you know? Bit disappointed…I won't…be able to…accept that…deal," his sentence is broken between gasped breaths and fear tightens painfully in your chest. 

You shush him softly, shaking your head. 

"You're going to be fine, ok? You're fine. You're always fine." Grabbing his hand, you hold it tightly in yours, feeling the tears you'd been holding back break free, rolling down your cheeks as you whisper.

Poe doesn't even attempt to squeeze your fingers, his hand stays limp in yours as you desperately bite back sobs of fear. "I promise I'll kiss you when we get back. I promise you can have anything you like. Just don't die on me, ok?"

"Don't cry…I'll…be fine," he chokes out. He lifts as hand, as though he would brush the tears from your cheeks but it never makes it that far up, it drops limp to his side as his eyes roll back in his head, his breathing stutters, and silence engulfs the ship. 

~

You sit back in your chair, stretching out your sore muscles, staring at the words on your report. They told you there was nothing you could have done. The blade had been tipped with poison and it was spreading fast through the pilot's veins, each beat of his heart pushed him closer to death. The medical training you had, the supplies on the ship, none of it was equipped to deal with something like that. No, you did everything you could. You couldn't have done anything more, or at least that's what they tell you. 

It had felt like days sitting in silence, Poe's hand growing colder in yours, the only noise the warning beep of the failing life support. No matter how hard you tried to wake him, he wouldn't even stir. Dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you'd laid your head against his thigh, squeezing his cold hand as you waited for your own demise. You were grateful for the dim lighting then. It meant you didn't have to look, you didn't have to see if his breathing had stopped.

The image of Poe motionless, his head lolling to one side, as they carried him onto the rescue ship, had haunted your dreams for weeks. He was no longer the effervescent pilot, no longer full of life, teasing and commanding. The last image you had of him was a broken doll, limp and lifeless. 

You can kiss me?

His words ring out so clear in the room it's almost as though he was standing beside you, with the playful smirk he always seems to have around you, dancing in his lips. 

Maker, you missed him. 

You'd gotten used to his presence in your life — the easy friendship and banter, the way he never made you feel like less, even though you're the least experienced pilot he's ever had in his squadron. You miss his laughter that happens at the most inappropriate times. You miss him distracting you on purpose when you're trying to concentrate. You even missed him being snappy and grumpy when he was tired. You missed him so much more than you could have imagined. 

With a sniff, you hastily wipe your eyes. It was no good dwelling on what already happened. 

"No point crying over spilt caf. Just get another cup," Poe would often tell you brightly when things went wrong. 

Taking a deep breath, you go back to the report, determined to finish it in the hopes that once it was done, you'd never have to think on that day again. That's the reason you'd come here, all the way at the edge of the base, to the abandoned part, filled with empty rooms full of dust, to finish this damn report in peace. But even as your fingers hover over the keys to start typing, a hesitant knock on the door stops you. 

With a groan of annoyance, you push the chair away from the desk, standing up on stiff legs that have been sitting too long and don't want to move. It’s a surprise that anyone has even come this far down the base, let alone appears to be purposely coming to find you. 

Pressing your hand to the door panel it slides open with a soft woosh, revealing a head of messy curls, an impish grin and a pilot who should, to your knowledge, still be laid up in medical recovering for at least another couple of weeks.

"Poe! You're out!"

"Yeah, I escaped my captors, and I'm on the run! So I probably don't have long before they drag me back. Did you miss me?" He grins in an all too familiar way, as though you haven't been separated for weeks. "I've been looking for you for ages. Why are you here? Nobody uses this room anymore. Meeting up with a secret lover?" He pokes his head into the small room you've been using to work in, confirming that it's empty, as though you might have been hiding someone inside.  

You blink in shock a few times, still surprised he's standing in front of you, when the nurses had exasperatedly told you for the tenth time, that his recovery would take at least a few more weeks. He didn't yet have his full strength, nothing had changed since yesterday and no you were absolutely not allowed to visit him. But the grinning man standing in the doorway, albeit a little less put together than he usually would be with his crumpled untucked shirt, tired eyes and messy hair, seems like he's perfectly fine. 

"So, what are you doing?" He asks again, raising an eyebrow when you fail to answer his questions. 

"Oh, I just needed somewhere quiet to finish some reports, you know, about what happened. And I guess I'm hiding a bit," you shrug, shuffling your feet, suddenly awkward in his presence after weeks of not being allowed to see him. "People keep asking me what happened, how you are, if I've seen you, blah blah. I swear, if I have to hear one more girl simper at the fact you got hurt, I might defect to the First Order just to save my sanity. How are you feeling?"

"Me? I'm fine, and I can't help being popular," he grins with an easy shrug. "Can you tell me who's been asking though? I'm hoping one person in particular might have been enquiring after me?"

You frown at him, trying to bury the spark of hurt at the comment. It isn't Poe's fault you have feelings he doesn't know about. But even so, your answer comes out snappier than you mean. 

"Go ask them yourself instead of bothering me."

Poe raises both eyebrows this time at your tone, but there's still a hint of a smile on his lips as he shrugs. 

"Alright, I will. In fact, I'll go ask them right now." He spins on his heel and walks two steps, barely giving you time to feel the stab of hurt in your chest, before he turns back around to face you. "Oh, hey, there you are! I just wanted to ask if you have been enquiring about me and my wellbeing since I almost died?"

"What are you doing?" You sigh with a shake of your head, your demeanour softening as he walks back to you. 

"Asking the only person on base I care about, at least in a ‘I’ve fallen head over heels for you’ sort of way, if they asked about me while I was recovering?"

You flounder, opening your mouth and closing it again as he grins. Heat floods through every inch of your skin, and you're sure your expression is one of absolute shock.

"No? And here I thought they were upset and worried about me. Frankly, I'm a bit offended now because they made me a promise. And you know, promises made on people's death beds you have to keep. It's the law." He stares at you seriously, his expression almost grave but it's not hard to see him fighting back a smile.

You have to fight to keep your breathing steady, your stomach plunging down to your feet at his words. Part of you had perhaps hoped that he hadn't heard you say that, that maybe he'd be too out of it by then to remember it, that maybe the trauma had wiped it from his mind. Or, at the very least, he would have taken it as a joke. Now you can't tell now if he's using it to tease you, or he's actually serious. 

"If I remember right," he pauses, tapping his chin with his index finger as he pretends to think, "I think you might have said I could have anything I wanted if we got home? Sound about right?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he watches you squirm in embarrassment. 

"I-I…well… it was a stressful situation…" you stutter, heat prickling out across your skin, "I just…wanted to make sure you got home…and…I-I just…you know, said stuff to keep you awake."

His expression softens as you trail off, gesturing wildly and trying to defend your words. 

"Oh, so you don't want to kiss me?" He tilts his head, regarding you standing frozen, still trying to process exactly what he's trying to tell you. "Listen, I'm an idiot. I should have told you this a long time ago. I know you like me. You're terrible at hiding it. But," he pauses with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, "I always thought you would make a move if it's what you wanted. But then out there, when you made that promise, I thought maybe… maybe you do want me as much as I want you?"

You could kiss me?

His words come back from the ship in stark clarity. You had assumed he was joking, trying to lighten the mood and tease you. But now you realise he was serious. He was asking for something he thought he couldn't ever have, because it was his last chance to do it.

A whole storm of emotions rise up quickly and overwhelmingly, the biggest being the regret that you hadn't listened, not truly listened. Not just that day on the ship, but always. The more you think about it, the more opportunities you know he's given you to say something, anything, about your feelings, and you'd let them pass by. 

Taking a deep breath, you meet his questioning gaze. 

"Well…I did promise you anything you wanted if you got home," you finally answer quietly. 

The pilot pauses for just a moment, swallowing almost nervously as though he had expected your rejection, before he nods solemnly, taking a step closer to you. Bringing his hand up to rest against the side of your neck, he rubs his thumb across your cheek before down to softly trace your bottom lip. 

"You did," he replies softly, as your breath catches at his touch.

"And it was your dying wish," you continue, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

"It was," he whispers, leaning into you and bringing his lips a breath away from yours, allowing his soft curls to brush against your forehead. The blood roars in your ears, deafeningly loud and you wonder if he can feel the heat currently blazing out across your skin. 

"And you're sure you're in your right mind?"

"I am," he answers, and you catch the flicker of a smile before he presses his lips to yours.

It's nothing like what you imagined kissing him to be like. He's sweetly tender — first the slightest brush of his lips against yours before placing gentle kisses to your top and bottom lip. Only when you relax — the tension you hadn't realised you were holding dropping from your shoulders — does he sweep his tongue across your lower lip, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides against your own, carefully slow, as though he has all the time in the world to map each part of your mouth. 

You can't help but allow a soft moan to escape as he kisses you, and your reaction seems to be the signal he needs, because he stops holding back. 

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close against him as his tongue battles yours with ravenous desire. Your hands tangle in his hair, kissing him back with as much desperate passion as he was giving you. 

The way he kisses you is all consuming, wiping away thoughts of anything else that exists in the galaxy. You hardly notice the way he backs you up into the room, without ever breaking your kiss. 

He doesn't pause until your legs hit the back of the desk. Only then does he pull away from you, taking your lower lip in his teeth and tugging gently. You let out a somewhat shaky breath, having only a moment to breathe before his mouth crashes into yours again, kissing you as though he's been starved of touch for years, not just a few weeks. 

When you eventually break apart, giddy with excitement and breathing heavily, he continues to steal quick kisses from you, keeping you pressed close against him.  

"Stars," he breathes softly, leaning his forehead against yours, as you bite your lip shyly, still trying to process the fact he kissed you, and like that. "Yeah, that was absolutely worth almost dying for."

"Yeah, maybe take out the near death experience next time though?" You laugh breathlessly, allowing your eyes to flicker closed as you enjoy the moment, trying to calm your heart to a normal speed again. Maker, there's no way you'll survive if he kisses you like that again.

"Do you mind if I sit down for a second?" He asks suddenly. Blinking yourself out of your kiss hazed daze, you notice how pale he's become, and you have a sudden stab of anxiety. It's a stark reminder that he's still not well and should be resting. 

"Yeah, come on."

He doesn't walk like he needs your help, but he allows you to support him as you lead him around the other side of the desk to sit down in the chair. "This is why you were supposed to stay in medical."

"I'm useless sitting there, though," he complains. "They won't let me have visitors, they won't let me do any work. Apparently I'm too likely to tire myself out if I leave. Like they know," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

That at least makes your frown soften just a little. Imagining Poe confined to a small corridor of rooms was difficult, given his chaotic nature. 

"You kiss a someone and you go weak at the knees. I think maybe you should be listening to people who know better?"

"I think that was because I had to look everywhere for you while evading capture," He complains, giving you a pointed look as though it's your fault. "I can't be cooped up in there any longer. I'd rather spend as much time as I can with you until they track me down. I've sent BB to tell them I'll be back later anyway," he grins proudly at his own plan to evade medical care, making you roll your eyes. "Let me do something useful, please."

"Poe," you start gently, leaning back on the desk, but he knows what's coming and gives you a pleading look, making you stop your lecture and sigh. "Fine, just tell me honestly how you're feeling now?"

"Really I'm fi-" 

One glare from you stops him in his tracks. He gives you a small nod, remembering that the word is banned between you now.

"I feel like I could sleep for a month and still be tired," he sighs honestly, leaning back in the chair to stare at the ceiling, "I mean I feel like that all the time now. It's getting better but it's taking too long. I feel trapped. I need to be doing something to help. I can't just lie down all day and let everyone else do all the work."

His frustration is evident, and it makes your heart ache for him. You know this is Poe's worst nightmare, having to sit back and watch, unable to do anything to help. Pushing yourself off the desk, you instead stand between his legs, gently brushing your hands through his soft curls as he looks up at you. 

"You did almost die. You just gotta take it easy for a little while. You'll be back in your X-Wing flying circles around everyone in no time." Leaning over, you hug him tightly, feeling his arms slide around your waist as he buries his face in your neck. "They said you'll be better soon. Just be patient with them, they are doing their job."

He sighs softly, squeezing you hard before he lets you go. Sitting back down on the edge of the desk, you look him over as he talks, glad the colour seems to be returning to his cheeks. 

"I know. I'll go back later. But will you please let me stay for a couple of hours? I'll be fi-alright now, I promise. It just comes and goes when I overexert myself."

"Well then I guess kissing is off the cards for the rest of the day," you smile, and he gives you an unimpressed look. "Hey, you said you wanted to help. Kissing me is not helping anyone."

"It helps me," he grins. "Besides, I deserve them. I came bearing gifts!"

He fishes around in his jacket pockets, eventually slowly pulling out a length of material and placing it in your hands, his gaze hopeful and wide as you look it over. You run your fingers across the soft fabric, watching the lights catching the colour as it slips through your fingers.

"I bought this for you. It's your favourite colour, right? I know it doesn't replace the one I ruined, but still. It's a sort of thank you for saving my life. But you know if you don't like it…" he trails off, watching your expression. 

He knew your favourite colour. Your heart swells, and your fingers tighten in the scarf, stopping yourself from throwing your arms around him, purely from fear the sudden movement might hurt him. 

"I love it. It's honestly perfect. Thank you, Poe." Leaning over again you brush your lips sweetly against his as his eyes light up with relief. 

"Wish I could take credit for anything but the colour," he smiles sheepishly. "I had to send Karè out with instructions because they wouldn't let me leave medical."

You lean back against the desk as he stands up holding his hands out for the scarf.

"Can I?" 

Nodding, you hand it back to him, allowing him to carefully wrap it around your neck, his thumbs brushing softly against the edges of your jaw as he does. You wrap your arms around him as he leans into you, brushing his nose against yours, barely allowing his lips to ghost over yours, sweetly teasing you until you pout. With a soft laugh at your reaction he finally kisses you properly, with an intensity that makes your own knees go weak. 

By the time you pull away, you're breathless, and the room is far too warm once more. 

"If you keep kissing me like that, I'll end up in medical with you," you giggle before you pause, pulling back to look at him suspiciously. "Maybe I'm already in medical? This is just a really good dream, isn't it?"

Poe laughs softly and shakes his head.

"I really hope not, but if you do wake up, I'll kiss you again and remind you just how much I like you."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, "Ok being sweet is not going to stop me sending you back to bed."

He grins, knowing he's been caught out. 

"How about we make a new deal? I’ll sit here with you, and I'll be very good and quiet, and then when you’re done with your reports I'll go back to medical for the night?” He gives you a soft kiss, and you're sure its purely in distraction.

“I feel like there’s a but coming,” you raise an eyebrow at him, and there's a look of absolute mischief shining in his eyes. 

"But you have to sit on my lap,”

Maker, he was going to be a nightmare this entire recovery.

----------

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loved this sm!!!! pt 2🙏🙏

our paths crossing

Pairing: Tsu’tey x Avatar!Reader + Adopted!Spider

Summary: Tsu’tey is given a second chance at life, but not even Eywa could convince him to accept it. 

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: single mom power, generational trauma, parental manipulation (tsu’tey’s parents suck), fluff

Na'vi words used: pa'li - direhorse, nivi - hammock, olo'eyktan - clan leader, ikran - mountain banshee, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, marui - home, oel ngati kameie - I See you, taronyutsyìp - little hunter, teylupil prrnen - teylu face baby, niktsyey - food/leaf wrap, tsaheylu - bond, sa'nok - mother, Uniltaron - Dream Hunt, irayo - thank you, tawtute - human, tswin - queue braid, maitan - my son, sa'sem - parents, taronyu - hunter, tsahik - spiritual leader, tsakarem - tsahik in training, meresh'ti cau'pla - banshee catcher

A/N: This was heavily inspired by other Tsu’tey works written by @simps256 @byunpum @shu-box-puns and @little-box-of-autism on Tumblr, and @ AlexiHollis on Ao3

~~~~~~~~~

PANDORA, 2154+

Everything is connected, one way or another. From the tiny stem of a plant, to the pa'li that steps on it, and to the ginormous tree looming over it. Pandora is made up of various different sizes of networks, from microscopic to gigantic. Some are easier to see than others. The network of tree branches and roots is clearly visible, but there are small ones, not physically distinct, and Eywa can see it all as clear as day.

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She’s a 10 but is in love with fictional military pilots.

She = me 💯

i want to see mama too⎥part two

you can read part one here and three here

→ summary: based off this request !! seven years ago, you had died alongside grace while trying to protect pandora. a few months after your death it was discovered that you were pregnant; leaving tsu'tey to raise your son vu'ran without you. but, things start to get strange when vu'ran is certain he saw you move.

pairing: tsu'tey x fem reader warnings: angst, blood, injury, nightmares, death, grief, swearing word count: 1.6k authors note: thank u so much for all the love on part one; i hope you enjoy part two !!

the rain came pouring down as you and tsu'tey danced together in the depths of the forest; your synchronised laughter echoing through the evening air as he twirled you under his arm. you danced around him as you gazed up, love glossing your yellow eyes. he brought your five fingered hand to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckle.

but, the bliss did not last.

your eyes went dark as you clutched at your chest, gasping for air. you fell to your knees as tsu'tey desperately grabbed at you; crying out your name.

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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

₊° - 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: Hiii! I was wondering if I could request a Draco x fem!reader where the reader is this super shy girl with insecurities and has a really big crush on Draco but nobody knows about it and draco has never even noticed her and Draco and reader somehow get trapped in a small like closet or classroom together and can’t get out because they dropped their wands and Draco hates it at first but they eventually settle into a really deep conversation that leaves Draco feeling a certain way about the reader by the time they are finally let out. Please and thank you!! :)

𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

His footsteps echoed against the cold tile floor as Draco Malfoy hurried through the hallways, distancing himself as far away from the Dungeons as he could. However, he needed to step up his pace if he wanted Professor Snape to lose him among the plethora of students squandering the corridors. The wooshing of his cape and the fast approach of his footsteps still sounded too close to Draco for his comfort.

“Stop at once!” Snape’s voice bellowed through the corridor, making students around him look up in fright, afraid he might have it out for one of them. Draco sprinted up the stairs, stumbling into some second years as he stopped for a split second to take in his surroundings— more students, but not enough to blend in with. His eyes scanned the hallway and then fell on one of the storage closet doors. It was ajar. Without thinking he rushed inside, trying his best to let the heavy dark wooden door fall silently shut. He breathed through his nose, trying to regain his breathing quietly, and heard students mumble and jump away as Professor Snape’s voice neared. 

Draco was close to letting out a yell of surprise when the wooden door opened and fell shut in its hinges with a loud clang, making him jump aside into the shadows of the closet as someone bumped into him. But when he looked up, he didn’t find Professor Snape staring down at him. Instead, he had to lower his eyes a couple of centimetres before they met those of a girl. 

“Bloody hell, do you-” His cuss was cut short by the hiss of the girl in front of him, staring at the door in the dark of the closet.

“Shut it-” Almost as quickly, the girl shoved his wand back down, stopping him from casting Lumos and quite possibly betraying her hiding space. The two waited, in the dark, unaware of who the other actually was. The girl’s ear was tightly pressed against the door, eager to find out if the coast was clear. Getting impatient, Draco shoved her aside, wanting to listen for himself. 

“Why-”

The girl shushed him again and softly slapped against his hand which was starting to put too much weight on the door, making it creak in protest. Somewhere in the distance, they couldhear the students disperse after the grande bell in the Clock Tower roared through the school three times. 

Draco sighed in relief, knowing Snape must have left in order to make it to his class, and so he cast Lumos to find the door handle in the dark. He clumsily and somewhat harshly shoved the girl aside once more,

“Out of my way.” Once his wand lit up the closet, he could finally see who he had been in hiding with, and his jaw slacked and his ears turned red when he realised he never meant to be so rude to the girl in front of him. 

Y/N stared back at him, eyes full of shock and terror at the realisation of who she had been sharing the cramped closet with, and she didn't even register the soft and mumbled apology that Draco muttered under his breath until she saw his lips move. Embarrassed by looking at his lips, her eyes immediately shot up to his, but the nerves and blush that coated her cheeks immediately after that made her realise how big of a mistake that decision had been.

“I- um… I… sure, of course.” She stammered, moving past him to give him the room, growing even more embarrassed as she stepped on his feet, making the sixth-year Slytherin hiss in pain. 

“I’m so sorry! Merlin, I-”

“It’s fine,” Draco mumbled quickly, but not nearly as harshly as he would have treated anyone else. 

Draco cleared his throat, masking his own nerves, and rattled the doorknob, simultaneously pushing his whole weight against the heavy door. It didn't budge, not even a millimetre. 

“What the-”

“Alohomora.” Y/N flicked her wand quickly, wanting to help the boy out and not make more of a fool of herself. Only the door didn't open after the basic spell.

Surprised, Draco looked back at her for a split second before turning back to the door to try it himself. 

“Alohomora.” Nothing. He repeated himself a couple of times, through gritted teeth, before finally shoving his wand back in his robe. 

“What did you do to it before you walked in?”

Taken back by the accusation and the annoyed furrow of Draco’s brows, the girl felt too accused to realise her initial fright, “Me? I didn’t do anything.” She rattled the doorknob once more, not liking the accusing tone the Slytherin used, “You were here before me.”

Draco sniffed in disdain and punched the door, “Is that why you came here, to lock me up with you?” The moment he said it and saw the look on Y/N’s face, he wished he hadn’t. His anger had taken over once more. It wasn’t a rare occurrence as of late. The task the Dark Lord had given him weighed heavily on him, and it was even worse that he could tell no one. He had to lie, even if he knew that Dumbledore was probably well aware of everything going on. If that all wasn’t worse enough, Snape had been breathing down his neck ever since the first day of school. He needed to do this himself, and he sure as hell didn’t need any help. 

He noticed Y/N’s silence and saw the girl with her arms crossed, in an attempt to hug herself to comfort while staring down at the tiled floor. This was his doing, his actions had caused her to shut herself out. He didn’t know the girl on a personal level, but had shared classes with her for years and had often caught himself staring at her. Never had he ever seen her this uncomfortable. He hated himself for being the reason behind it. 

“Sorry.” He said curtly, for the first time in years apologising to someone other than his father. The girl merely shrugged in reply, as a way to shake it off, but Draco could see how bad it made her feel.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“It’s fine, Draco.” She finally said, his name rolling off her tongue like silk. 

He tried to keep the most distance he could in the cramped closet, to not make her even more uncomfortable. Only he failed to realise that her silence and unease weren't because of his comments, but because of his presence. You see, in some other reality where Y/N wasn’t as shy as she was, she would have loved being trapped in a closet with the boy she’s had the biggest crush on ever since first seeing him. Perhaps she would even make use of it. But in this reality, the only thing she wanted to happen was for the floor to swallow her whole. She tried her best to hide the blush on her cheeks by focusing on the ground. She would never act on her crush on the Malfoy boy. She'd always been intimidated by him, for his status, wealth and friends created some sort of distance between him and everyone else at Hogwarts. Not to mention, Draco Malfoy made it all too clear how much he loathed Muggleborns on a day-to-day basis. She was too different from him in every way, he would never like someone like her, let alone her. She cowered away at that realisation. 

Y/N had admired the boy from afar for years, cheeks turning scarlet whenever he so much as glanced her way. She had made sure to be discreet about it, and was almost certain that the boy had no clue. Pansy and the others had though, oh they had, and they made it painfully clear as well. They made fun of her whenever she walked by. Draco never joined their jesting or laughter, probably too busy to be wanting to pay her attention anyway. But Y/N couldn’t help but pay attention to the silver haired boy each and every opportunity she got. Hence why it had become clear that he was changing. He could stare off into the distance for the duration of a whole class, he seemed to shut himself out from his friends and no longer made it his duty to pester anyone different from him. He had turned more skittish, more anxious. Unfortunately she would never find out why, nor dare to ask. For now, she would have to keep it at secret glances, even if they weren’t so secret to Draco.

Draco put a finger to his mouth when footsteps approached, and a shadow was seen to stand in the light below the creak of the door. The pair grew quiet, until the footstep disappeared again. 

Relieved, Draco turned to lean against the cold wall, staring at the girl in front of him and shamelessly taking in every detail that was available to him in this little light. The girl was beautiful, but that wasn’t something he hadn't been aware of already.  However, he had never been up close to her before, so he took his time taking her in. Another blush crept on Y/N’s cheeks when the boy shamelessly stared at her, checking her out.

He tilted his head in curiosity, “So why are you hiding here?”

Y/N swallowed, realising she wouldn’t be able to come up with a believable lie without stuttering or stumbling over her words, “I um… They were messing with me.” Draco tilted his head the other side, wanting her to elaborate, “They tried to throw a few hexes at me so I ran.” The burning of her cheeks didn't disappear when she revealed how she had run like a coward and had done so for the past six years.

“Who?” He quipped.

Y/N bit her lip, contemplating wether to come clean or not. But who was she kidding? The whole school knew of Pansy’s disdain against her.

“Pansy and her friends.”

Realising that Pansy’s friends were also Draco’s, she tried the doorknob again, “I’m sorry, I can go. No, I should go. I’ll find another spot. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

Draco listened to her rambles and the ghost of a smirk appeared on his face. He wasn’t enjoying her anxiety, no, he found it adorable how she wanted to flee from him so bad when all she had done for the past six years was probably wish for a moment like this. 

“I don’t think it will open. We’ve tried already, remember?” He teased, then saw it didn’t do anything to calm her down. “Relax- It’s fine.” He assured. 

Y/N let out a relieved breath, “Right, good. Because this is my usual spot.” She surprised herself by the joke that so effortlessly rolled of her lips, “So if anything, it should be you having to scurry away.”

Amused, Draco raised an eyebrow, and then he laughed, impressed by her quick wit. Either Y/N was growing confident, or she was still too shocked to be in a closet with him to think of anything she was saying. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, by the way.” His voice now close to a whisper, he pushed himself off the wall. Once again, he found himself needing to apologise, “Sorry if I did. I was frustrated.” He knew it was a shitty excuse, but noticed the girl’s shoulders relaxing. 

Then for a third time, he opened his mouth to apologise, “I’m sorry they’ve been treating you that way.” 

Y/N’s eyes snapped up to his, surprised at the sudden statement in which he did not back his friends, for all that she knew, for the first time ever.

“I don’t think you’re ugly, daft or boring, by the way. You’re quite the marvellous witch.”

“I thought Mudbloods can’t be witches.” The challenging reply had left her mouth before she could stop it, but she was surprised to see the crooked grin on his face, instead of an annoyed scowl like the one that he would usually sport. 

He wagged a finger and nodded his head, “Keeping me on my toes, I see. Good.” He stared at her again with that unbridled sense of confidence and pride, and Y/N found herself wanting to slap it off his perfectly sculpted Grecian face. 

“Better than all those fools who just nod at everything I say and don’t have an opinion of their own.”

“I think they want to agree with what you have to say because you can be quite intimidating, did you know?” Y/N slid down the wall and landed on a wooden crate. 

He stared at her, letting her words land in his head before following her example and sitting down. 

“Perhaps.” He pursed his lips, “That still gives you more guts than any of them. Didn’t know you had it in you.” The backhanded compliment didn't fly over her head, if anything, it made her incredibly aware of the situation again. 

She swallowed, and with a small voice, she muttered, “You don’t know me at all.”

Draco let out a big breath, one that served as a reply of its own. Too bad he didn’t have the luxury to befriend whoever he wanted. No, they had to be of status, wealthy or pureblood. Otherwise, his family’s name would be tainted and they would be shunned. He had always believed his parents when they had told him how things were supposed to be. But ever since he had caught Y/N staring at him, he had started to notice her, too. What he had also noticed? How his views and opinions slowly started to fade and change. He often hated the universe for making her a Mudblood or being born to a family of no importance. If only things could have been different, who knows, maybe he could have pursued her. If only his family hadn't been tied so closely to the Dark Lord, maybe he could've gotten away with doing whatever he wanted to do. Then again, if he failed to succeed in killing Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would have his head, so maybe he should just take the plunge. 

Her words hung in the air and the silence that followed was only interrupted by the second banging of the Clock, signalling that everyone had to be in their classrooms now. The girl in front of him let out a frustrated groan at the realisation she would have to miss her Herbology exam now that she was still stuck. 

“What?”

“I’ll miss my Herbology exam.”

Draco sniffed his nose, thinking there were worse things to miss out on. 

“Okay- you might think of it as unimportant and stupid, seeing as with one little wag of his finger, your father will have changed all your grades, but I actually have to work hard for my grades.”

Draco’s head whipped hear way, but he stayed quiet. Had anyone else talked to him this way, he would have lost it. But he could only stare at the girl, stunned. He realised that she saw him just like everyone else— like a spoiled and entitled brat. 

Y/N kept still, realising her mistake when she saw the conflict and pain in the boy’s eyes. 

After a few seconds, Draco opened his mouth, “It’s not like that at all, if you must know. My father would actually have my head if I only had bad grades. But I can’t blame you for not knowing that, we don’t know each other, remember?” He spoke slowly, immediately balling his fists afterwards to conceal the anger still left in him, the anger he definitely did not want to throw at her again.

Draco stood back up to throw his fists against the door instead, in hopes that someone would hear him.

“Hey! Let me out or you will hear from my father!” His lips sneered and Y/N was caught off guard by how quickly his demeanour could change. Just now, when he had been talking to her, he had turned so silent and soft, almost understanding, something she had never seen him do before. She had brought that side out of him, but now he was back to being that same brash Malfoy boy that everyone knew— and hated. 

Y/N sighed and threw her head in her hands, making Draco look at her. Of course, this was pure torture for the girl, to be trapped in a closet with him. And after all that his words had ruined in the mere span of five minutes, who could blame her?

“Can’t stand the thought of being anywhere near me? Do you want to get out of this closet so badly? I can't get out of it, or I would've. If only just to ease your nerves.” He teased, testing the waters, then realised why the girl next to him grinned softly.

“Oi, you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Do you find the closet comfortable then?”

“Only this one, with this company.” He said it with a laugh as a smirk slipped past his lips, surprising even himself. 

Y/N’s face flushed a bright red once more and this time Draco found his stomach tickling after witnessing it. He stared at her face again, long, then right into her eyes. He felt himself smiling once more. He cleared his throat, not wanting to dive in deeper, for now.

“So, um, Herbology then, yes?”

“What about it?”

“Is that your favourite subject?”

Y/N sat back once more and looked at him only to see the boy was being genuine, trying to make some smalltalk. She grinned.

“One of my favourites, yes. Although it’s hard to pick a favourite when you’re a student at a Wizarding School and didn’t grow up with it all. I want to indulge as much as I can.”

Draco nodded, realising the girl was hinting at her Muggleborn status.

“So what’s the muggle world like?” He asked after thinking hard and long of a question, finding himself ridiculous for being so nervous about her reaction, “How much does it really differ from ours?”

He knew he had asked the right question when he saw her face light up with glee, “Well, for starters, we don’t use apparition or the floo network, so travelling takes longer. When we have to get something, we can’t use Accio and-”

He smiled at her, truly smiled, as he listened to her passionately talk about her life back home. He gave himself a small pat of victory for getting the girl from looking at the ground to looking into his eyes, to making her feel comfortable enough to share something so personal. 

He answered the questions she asked in return and found himself enjoying her company immensely. The conversation flowed naturally, but it came to an abrupt stop when the door suddenly opened swiftly.

Professor Snape stood before them, but the two didn't realise until their eyes finally adjusted to the sudden harsh light. They were filled in horror when they saw their Professor looking down at them, taking them in, glaring into their eyes uncomfortably long. Snape looked between the two, then into the closet, and it doesn’t take a fool to see what assumption he was making. He lifted an eyebrow, once again taking the two squeezed-together teenagers in. Unsure whether to speak up about it, he sneered his lip in abhorrence, gave it another few seconds to ponder over, and then decided to skip the awkward conversation,

“Next time don’t run away when I call you or I’ll leave you there locked for eternity, Malfoy.” He spoke slowly, then quickly paraded away. 

The two walked out of the closet, weirded out by the sudden encounter, then turned to each other,

“I hope you won’t get into too much trouble with Sprout,” Draco offered a kind smile, which the girl returned,

“And you with Snape… with whatever it is you did."

Draco nodded, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. 

“You’re not so bad as they all make you out to be, but I already had a hunch,” Y/N spoke as she adjusted her hair, now aware they’re both in daylight again and not in the dark where she had been able to hide away in the shadows. But Draco didn't care. He took her in once more, and nodded his head pleasingly. 

“I’ll see you around.” The girl smiled softly, then turned to walk away until Draco stopped her,

“Same place, same time, next week?” 

He joked, realising that having Y/N as company hadn’t been so bad. To be quite frank, he was already looking forward to seeing her again.

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

© 𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀