20+ unemployed loser who still lives with their parents. instead of filling out job applications and being a functioning member of society, I read fanfiction and play video games all day.
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader
summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider.
word count: 6.7k
author's note: and we're back! i'm calling this an early christmas present to my fellow readers. wow, can you believe it's been a year since i last updated? but anyway, i've seen the love for this work and i'm slowly getting back into writing and continuing this story. i finished watching the third avatar and i just couldn't not finish this finally. anyway! enjoy!
read on AO3
“Move.” Tsu’tey hissed at you, his next arrow pointed directly at your attacker.
Quickly, you scrambled away from the fallen warrior as Tsu’tey closed in on her. Seething in Na’vi, or rather interrogating her, it seemed. You kept your distance as the warrior glared at you through her hissed grunts.
Tsu’tey then switched to English when turning his attention toward you, “Are there more?”
You nodded, “Yeah. They ambushed me at the waterfall. I don’t think they’re still there, though.” They had been so quiet, to the point where they just popped up out of nowhere and attacked you. Usually, you’d at least hear leaves rustle before seeing the person, like Neytiri—but then again, she’s only done that to make herself known.
Tsu’tey adjusted his grip on his bow, yellow gaze scanning your surroundings. You even looked around, too, just to try and be aware. In case anyone tried to jump you once again. Then he pressed a button against his collar on his throat before speaking in Na’vi. Seconds later, he grabbed the injured warrior.
“Follow.” He said to you.
And reluctantly, you did. Tsu’tey approached and called for a pa’li nearly hidden by a few trees. He connected his queue and got on with the warrior heaved behind him. Tsu’tey then looked to you with a frown, “Can you ride?”
You remembered doing it once before when you had been trying to get an injured Arvok back to the clan territory as your eyes found another pa’li nearby. Instead of responding, you approached the other pa’li while grabbing your own queue. Carefully, you brought yours up to its antenna and allowed it to connect. You hoisted yourself on its back, feeling it squirm slightly.
“Mawey.” At the gentle order, the pa’li eventually relaxed. Quietly, you thank Neytiri and Norm for one of the phrases that stuck with you.
After making sure the creature was settled, you turned your head to meet Tsu’tey’s watchful gaze. He raised a brow but nodded before steering his pa’li to start moving. You ordered yours to follow.
And you were able to follow him well enough, just as the two of you made it back to the clan territory. A few winged creatures flew over your head as you steered the pa’li to a stop. Tsu’tey was quick to slide off with the warrior and dragged her toward the Tsahik’s hut. How he had the strength and energy to carry that woman up a tree, you would never know. Nor did you voice out loud as you made it up the tree and cautiously followed him until you were standing at the doorway, watching him dump the warrior on a mat next to the bonfire at the center of the room. The hut was empty, surprisingly.
You watched as Tsu’tey was talking through the communicator collar as he stalked in your direction. Fortunately, he slipped past you, barking orders toward nearby warriors before entering back in the hut. Three warriors entered. Two were male and appeared older and more seasoned. The other was a woman who appeared closer to your and Neytiri’s age.
Their bodies were instantly guarded upon seeing the injured warrior.
“You,” Now Tsu’tey was addressing you. “Stay here, I will bring the Tsahik to heal her.”
There wasn’t much you could say in protest—frankly, you were still trying to process just what the hell was going on here. But after a small pause, you let out a sigh and nodded while staying close to the exit in case the warrior wanted to try anything.
Tsu’tey watched you for a second until he was content and left.
The warrior was panting while hissing at the three surrounding her. You clutched the spear in your hands, trying to still your trembling hands.
“Mawey!” One of the males snapped at her. Your gaze dragged back to the warrior who was hissing at them in Na’vi. Some words you could recognize and understand, while the rest just sounded like a blurred mess of sounds because of how fast she was speaking. It was a bit frustrating, being the only one in the room who didn’t know what everyone was saying—not entirely anyway. Maybe you needed to increase your lessons with Neytiri and Norm.
Then the warrior’s eyes snapped at you. She said something even though everyone knew you couldn’t fully understand her. You recognized ‘demon’ since Tsu’tey loved using that term the most whenever it came to you. But what you did know was that she made sure to fill each word with vitriol and hatred. But you took to ignoring her, deciding that reacting wouldn’t do either of you much good in the end.
But you didn’t think the warrior would be desperate.
No, you should’ve expected it.
For hatred can cloud one’s judgement so much so that they would do almost anything. Anything to quench that hungry rage.
So, when she suddenly lunged at you with a dagger, when she tackled you out of the hut and onto the ground, when the dagger hovered a feather above your eye while you held her back with the spine of the spear. Separating the two of you—you shouldn’t have been surprised. You shouldn’t have been so shocked.
“That poison didn’t finish you off, so I will!” She hissed.
Your eyes widened, and your hands began to tremble again. The dagger’s tip met the skin just under your eye.
Fortunately, the added weight lessened when another dagger entered the game. This time pressed against the warrior’s throat, and behind her were familiar, fierce yellow gaze that glimmered dangerously.
“Release.” Neytiri hissed venomously from behind the warrior. She pressed the dagger further against her skin. “Or I cut.”
Quickly, the warrior removed the dagger from your face. She was yanked off of you and dragged back into the hut. You scrambled back to your feet with some help—from Arvok, you realized—as Tsu’tey and Mo’at stalked into the hut, barking orders.
Arvok looked at you. “Are you okay?”
Dazed and still a little high on adrenaline, you nodded. “Well, I’m still alive, I guess.”
His ears flicked as he stared at you curiously.
“Arvok!” Tsu’tey called.
“Sorry.” The younger male nodded to you before ducking into the hut.
You followed seconds after seeing that they now had the warrior restrained while Mo’at examined her injured shoulder from Tsu’tey’s arrow. The warrior was screaming and thrashing abou,t making it quite difficult for the Tsahik to perform her duty.
Neytiri spotted you and instantly moved beside you, “Did she hurt you?” Before you could respond, her finger traced the spot under your eyes where the dagger had nearly pierced the skin. “You have a small cut, she cut you!” She whirled around to glare at the warrior. “You should not have brought her here, Tsu’tey!”
“Mawey, tiyawn,” Tsu’tey said calmly with a certain gentleness that he hoped would ease her growing anger.
The warrior hissed something at you, directly causing Neytiri to hiss back.
You kept yourself behind Neytiri and the spear close to you, now on guard in case the warrior decided to lunge for you again.
It wasn’t long until a few more people entered, one of them being Jake.
And when Jake entered, it felt like he had stepped right into chaos itself.
There were two of Tsu’tey’s warriors holding down a woman who obviously belonged to the Tipani clan, considering her armor and warrior paint on her face. There was a bloody hole in her shoulder that Mo’at tried to tend to.
“Keep her down! She does not get up or leave this hut!”
“She needs a sedative,” Mo’at grumbled.
“She needs to thank the Great Mother that I don’t pluck her eyeball from her head!” Neytiri hissed with Arvok holding her back the best of his ability.
Then there was you, tail tucked between your legs, pale, and a slight tremor in your frame.
Jake wasn’t sure what was going on—or why you were here for this. All that he knew was that there was an attack and that he was sending scouts out to check the forest and the surrounding areas near Hell’s Gate.
Admittedly, that made Jake nervous.
Mo’at must’ve finally given something to the Tipani warrior as she became less of a problem, her body suddenly going slack.
Neytiri was pacing when Jake made himself known to everyone as he walked further into the hut.
“What happened?” He asked in English since you were present. Originally, he had planned to fly to Hell’s Gate to work things out with you. Then he’s suddenly called back to base—urgently. He didn’t realize you’d be here, and now he was beginning to suspect that you were involved in this somehow.
“The warrior and her group tried to attack tanhi!” Neytiri spoke first, her tail lashing behind her while scowling down at the unconscious warrior. “Tsu’tey brought her here—”
“More of her people have been scouting near the Sky Clan’s home,” Tsu’tey explained calmly. “We’ve never been able to catch them until one revealed herself to our dreamwalker.” He raised his chin with authority. “I shot her with my bow and brought her to answer questions.”
Jake noticed Arvok staring at the woman closely, a slow dark expression crossing his face. “Tsmukan.”
The younger male perked up and turned to Jake expectantly.
Jake continued in Na’vi, “Do you recognize her?” This time, Neytiri, Tsu’tey, and Mo’at froze and watched Arvok’s expression closely, as if waiting for him to confirm it to be true. “Was she the one who attacked you and shot the dreamwalker?”
Even you watched closely. Despite not knowing the language, you were smart enough to put two and two together. They wanted to know if this Tipani woman was the one who attacked Arvok and poisoned you.
Neytiri was already ready for a fight with the way she held her hunting knife. And despite appearing put together, one couldn’t miss the hard look that settled on Tsu’tey’s face.
For Jake and even Neytiri, it didn’t matter if they weren’t related by blood to Arvok. They would go to war for him. There was no question about it. Jake nearly started one himself when Arvok was brought back injured that night.
Finally, Arvok shook his head, “She did not attack me, but she was there. I remember…she was the only one with a bow while her comrades carried spears.”
Jake’s chest tightened, breathing out a tired sigh before turning to you.
Noticing that he was now addressing you, you stood straighter and appeared guarded—he deserved that.
“Do you recognize her?”
You frowned at the question. “No.” But when you consider the words she spoke to you earlier. The phrases were vaguely familiar. You could make out “poison” and “kill.” It was a stretch, but you had a feeling that this warrior woman had something to do with the attack. “My theory is she might’ve been the one that shot the arrow—I’m strictly going off of how she keeps looking at me and how she recognized me enough to lunge for me just now.”
You watched his face tighten before looking at the unconscious warrior. He said something in Na’vi. Tsu’tey nodded, which seemed to surprise both Neytiri and Jake at once. Arvok looked intrigued while glancing from you to the other three. He kind of reminded you of a puppy with how animated his tail and expressions were.
Eventually, Neytiri approached you and gently tugged your arm. “We will fly back to your people for the night. Come.”
Just before you gained distance away from Mo’at’s hut, Jake called your name and ducked out of the hut a second later.
“Still have that hunting knife?”
With a frown, you nodded, “S’back at Hell’s Gate.”
Jake gave a frown of his own, “Don’t leave the gate without it. Copy?”
Reluctantly, you considered his words, “I hope you’re not expecting a ‘yes, sir.’ I’m not your soldier, Sully.”
He gave you an exasperated look, “Just don’t go wanderin’ into the forest without it. Please.”
Since you weren’t in the mood to fight back on this, you wiped your forehead. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
With that, you let Neytiri lead you to one of the winged creatures, which you gulped at. But she just tugged you closer until you both were close enough for Neytiri’s other hand to stroke its nose.
“This is Zu’ri. She is an ikran. Creatures that we bond with. They help us get to places faster.”
You nodded, slightly in awe at how easily she got on the ikran’s back. She offered her hand, which you took, as she just as easily pulled you up onto the back of her ikran, sitting you behind her.
And when Zu’ri took off, your eyes were squeezed shut, a small squeal leaving your lips as you held onto Neytiri for dear life.
You heard a laugh come from Neytiri and eventually dared yourself to open one eye, only to be met with the starry night sky. The cool wind caressed your face, coaxing you to open your other eye, finally taking in that you were flying. Not in a ship but on the back of a Pandora creature.
It was like you were in one of your dreams, like you were nine again.
And for that moment, you allowed a foreign expression to sneak its way onto your face. It was barely noticeable at first glance.
But Neytiri saw it. She saw that white crescent moon. It made you look a lot younger, brightened your face, and your eyes were vivid with stars twinkling in your gaze.
You were always beautiful to Neytiri—hauntingly so. Now you seem to finally bloom. And it only took the right amount of sunlight.
Hell’s Gate finally came into view just before Zu’ri landed in a tree. Neytiri slid off and helped you down.
When you climbed down the tree, your mind instantly went to your garden and the baby as you walked toward Hell’s Gate. You still looked up at the sky, taking in the stars. You never really looked at it until now. Your mind was always clouded and spinning, keeping you busy all the time.
“Ma ’tanhi.” You stopped short and turned to find Neytiri coming toward you. She grabbed one of your hands and frowned sadly. “I’m sorry I could not be there when those warriors came for you. We should’ve warned you about this when you were poisoned—”
“So, then tell me.” You squeezed her hand. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Neytiri’s ears flickered before nodding. Her gaze fell on Hell’s Gate, frowning. “Not many of the clans are happy with the few Sky People left here. There was calm for a while, and they turned their eye away. But when your ship arrived,” You winced, and she squeezed your hand in response. “They got nervous. Now there is a clan, the Tipani. We’ve had many disagreements with the Olo’eyktan and their Tsahik in the past. Even now. They want to remove all Sky People. By exile or blood.”
Your shoulder’s sunk, “Shit.”
You couldn’t really say you blamed them for their actions. But this definitely meant you had to be a lot more careful. No aimlessly wandering the forest anymore. You’d have to make your foraging trips shorter, maybe take a Samson out when you check on the link shacks—
Neytiri gently cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. She smiled at you.
“I see you.”
Your tail swished behind you. “That sounds nice.” Though you titled your head curiously. “What does it mean?”
Her smile widened as she pressed your foreheads together. For a moment, you stayed like this. In your space of peace. You bit the inside of your cheek before wrapping her in a hug.
She hugged back instantly.
And you stayed like this for a second longer.
Eventually, you pulled away, face warm. “I’ll see you whenever then?”
Neytiri nodded. “Tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
Tsu’tey couldn’t breathe.
His surroundings, the world spun as he arrived back at his shared home.
Neteyam was asleep, so he tried his best to muffle his sobs and frantic breathing. It was the same feeling as last time. When his brother was unmoving in his arms. When he was forced to leave Mo’at’s hut so he wouldn’t have to see him bleeding out.
It was the same. It was always the same. The moment this fight between the clans started, the moment Eywa saved him from death, the moment he was crowned Olo’eyktan. His world never stopped spinning. His heart never stopped racing.
Tsu’tey tried breathing in, clutching his chest. Being quiet was a difficult task. He didn’t want to wake his little son; he didn’t want him crying, and Tsu’tey was unable to comfort him.
He would’ve been worthless. He was worthless.
Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.
“Hey, hey,” A gentle voice reached his ears, drawing him out of his thoughts. Jake appeared in his line of vision, ducking his head down to catch his gaze. “Hey, love.” Jake rested his hand on Tsu’tey’s shoulder, squeezing it softly. “How bad is it this time?”
Instead of a verbal response, Tsu’tey dropped his head into the dip of his mate’s shoulder. Jake was quick to hold him, wrapping him in a secure blanket.
And something like this was a rarity. This much affection from Jake. Usually, he was more restrained, and it took both Tsu’tey and Neytiri to coax him out of the cage he surrounded himself in.
Jake could do small touches. If Tsu’tey and Neytiri initiated it, he would respond. In private, when it was just them, he allowed himself to be a little freer.
But this? Holding him this tight? Tsu’tey’s heart grew; he felt safe here. The world stilled, and he clung to this lifeline.
“I’ve got you. I’m here.” Jake promised, nuzzling his face into the crook of Tsu’tey’s neck.
It was then that he felt—noticed Jake’s hands trembling around him. It was then that he realized they both needed this moment.
Away from the chaos.
In their space of peace.
“We’ll get through it,” Jake whispered reassuringly. To himself or Tsu’tey, neither could tell.
“Eywa ngaha?”
Norm shook his head. “No, Eywa ngahu.”
You jutted your bottom lip out. “Eywa ngahu.”
“Good! You’re getting better!”
“Shut up, Spellman.”
Norm laughed as you glared grumpily at the ultrasound. “I didn’t even know you were interested in learning their language. You seem so determined, too.”
“I’m just tired of looking like a gaping fish whenever they do speak their language. Hell, they could be talking about me in front of me!”
Norm hummed, “True. That could be annoying. I thought you would’ve asked Neytiri to be honest.”
“I’m learning from Neytiri, I’m learning from you—hell, I’m binging my mother’s old logs until this language thing is imprinted in my brain.”
“Wow, I’d hate to see how you got your doctorate.”
You flipped him off as he laughed. The belly shifted a bit. Either from your voice or Norm’s. A part of you wondered if she recognized both of your voices by now. “See? Even the baby thinks you're unfunny. She’s not even out of the womb yet, and she’s the smartest girl I know.”
Norm clutched his chest. “Ouch! That really does hurt, Doc!”
“Good, I hope you suffer.”
“I missed your quips, Doc.” He sighed wistfully. “Even if you are cruel.”
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. A second later, there was static coming from Norm’s coms. You watched curiously as he picked it up and placed it back in his ear. “Yeah? Mmm. Yeah, she’s with me. Sure thing. Okay, but a little advice: approach cautiously if you want to keep your head today. Mhm, yeah, no problem.”
He hung up.
You frowned curiously. “What, Sully going on some hunting trip?”
“No, he wants to see you.”
You rolled your eyes as he burst into another fit of laughter. Getting louder when you threw one of your blank notebooks at him.
“Come on! I got you, admit it!”
“Grow up, Spellman.”
You ignored the growing lump in your throat when you got outside just in time to see Jake sliding off his ikran.
It was almost strange, being as tall as him now—instead of having to look up all the time, you now met him at eye level. And it was easy to see hesitance upon seeing you. But he quickly covered it up as you got closer, instantly donning an authoritative, or rather stern, energy that of a marine.
You stopped short and raised your brows expectantly.
He flicked his head to the right toward the direction of the nearby forest. “Let’s move.”
Quietly, you followed him away from Hell’s Gate, and his ikran stayed put obediently. As you stepped into the forest nearby, you tried making your feet quiet, as Neytiri had shown you a couple of months back. Jake would glance over his shoulder every now and then, just to make sure you were following. And you were. At your own pace.
A part of you wanted to make it clear that you were still pissed at him. And you did that too. Whether he acknowledged it or not was up to him.
Finally, he stopped in a large clearing and faced you with an unreadable expression. He picked up a bow that was resting on a rock, along with a quiver of arrows, and handed them to you. “Since you can’t seem to keep yourself out of trouble, we thought it would be best to train you. Learn to defend yourself.” His ears pinned to the sides of his head, “Because nobody’s goin’ to be there to save you all the time. And if the time came to it, you would probably have to kill someone.”
You frowned. Jake sighed exasperatedly when you refused to move or respond. “Its kill or be killed right now. I need you to make the hard choice when it comes to it. Understand?”
You looked from him to the bow before nodding once. Slowly, you took the bow and quiver of arrows from him. Jake looked satisfied with your answer before turning and gesturing to a thick tree a few feet away from them.
You grabbed an arrow and loaded it on the bow as Jake started speaking once more, “We’re gonna try and get you to aim and shoot at that tree. Like a true Na’vi. But today we’ll be focused on you mastering your form before—”
He was cut off when you released the arrow. It flew past him and hit the tree he pointed to. Practically a bullseye.
Jake snapped his head toward you, eyes slightly wide. You lowered the bow, “You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question—more like a dumbfounded observation.
“Archery? Yeah, I took some classes when I was younger.” You shrugged.
Jake’s ears twitched, and his expression was controlled again. “Alright then. Lift your arms.”
Making sure there was a great reluctance in your response, you lifted back into form, pulling the arrow back with precise aim. Jake stared at you for a good few seconds. He began circling you like a vulture. Shoving your abdomen and smacking your arm, all of which remained firm.
“Good form.” He grunted.
“I know.” You said simply.
Jake tilted his head. “Now try it with your left.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how the natives shoot.” Jake gestured toward her. “Switch hands.”
You hummed and eventually switched hands—which was noticeably a lot less firm—but you kept your face the same. “Sure you’re not just tryna make it unnecessarily difficult for me after I nailed that shot? You a little mad?”
“Are you mad that I’m making you use your left?” He responded, a hint of challenge clear.
You pulled the arrow back, ignoring the trembling in your left hand and arm—no doubt Jake noticed it anyway. “Oh yeah, I’m pissed.”
And you let the arrow fly. It missed the tree as you expected.
Jake quirked his lip slightly into a small smirk. “Again, but don’t release the arrow just yet.”
You sank back into your stance. Jake guided your arm and moved your fingers until there were only two left on the string. You frowned, looking at Jake, who watched you expectantly.
“Now release.”
And you did. Missing the tree completely. As expected.
“Again.”
You did this for the next hour. Fingers in pain, but you were incredibly determined despite your frustrations. Most times, you’d grab the arrow before Jake muttered, “Again,” and shot at the tree.
And again, you missed.
You clicked your tongue and moved to grab another arrow.
“That’s enough for today.” Jake walked past you to collect the arrows from the ground. “S’nice to see you into it though.”
You rolled your eyes as he approached with the arrows gathered in his hand. “Take these and practice until you’re used to the form.”
“Hmph.”
That was all you said as you grabbed the arrows from his hand. Only he didn’t let go. So, you didn’t let go either, staring at him challengingly. He noticed your tail lashing behind you and your grip tightening around the arrows.
“Easy.” He warned, his voice low.
You tilted your head, not breaking eye contact with him.
Then his expression relaxed—softened. His ears lowered a bit. “I’m sorry.” He whispered for only you to hear. His grip tightened around the arrows, stopping you from pulling away. “About the other night. And believe it or not, I do actually care about what happens to you.”
A part of you wanted to look away. There was an intensity in his eyes that you couldn’t name. That you didn’t want to name. It made your jaw clench.
Jake stepped closer, his voice lowering. “That means no more throwing yourself in front of poisoned arrows without knowing how to shoot one first.”
You frowned, considering his words. “You’re sorry?”
“Mhm.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, studying your face. “Do you want me to say it again?”
That, you considered. You really did. Finally, you rolled your eyes and shook your head, “No. Just give me the damn arrows.”
You went to pull it from his grasp only he still held firm.
Now you glared at him. Jake smiled then, his ears twitching and his tail swishing behind him.
Jake couldn’t help himself. Your small reactions were so cute.
“Did you bring your hunting knife?” He asked, tilting his head to examine the rest of your body—probably to find said knife.
“Why are you acting as if you care, Sully? Hmm?” Finally, he let the arrows go. You placed them all back in the quiver and slung the strap over your shoulder.
“Same time tomorrow, Doc.”
“Yeah, sure, Sully.”
After checking in on the baby a second time later that night, you went to the compound with the bow and arrows and went into the new stance that Jake had shown you.
It was uncomfortable still, but you were still determined, even if your fingers ended up blistered by the end of your long practice. When you finally went to bed, you managed to get used to falling into the new stance, but it was still difficult to manage. Too shaky to shoot. The arrows almost always missed the target
You put some bandages around your now blistered hand, which you were used to since you had taken archery long before.
When Neytiri saw the bandaged hand the next day when she came to help out with your garden, she tsked and grabbed some herbs from your garden and began applying them while teaching you some more Na’vi.
“Ngaru lu fpom srak.” Neytiri spoke effortlessly.
“Ngaru lu fpom srak.” You repeated as best as you could.
Neytiri smiled at your attempt. “Close. Ngaru lu fpom srak.”
“Ngaru-lu-fpom-srak.”
She finished up your hand by wrapping it in long, clean grass and placed a gentle kiss on your palm. “Nga lu yawne.” You are…pretty—no, beloved.
Oh.
You ignored how your face heated up and cleared your throat, “Teach me more?”
Neytiri didn’t let go of your hand as she gave you more phrases to repeat. And you didn’t mind it.
A little later, you met up with Jake in the same spot as the day before. When you grabbed an arrow from the quiver, Jake watched you closely as you sank into the new form.
Jake circled you. Smacking your stomach and arm. Your arm was firm, but he purposefully added force to your stomach and made your foot slide back an inch. Jake noticed but didn’t say anything.
You ignored him and focused on your finger placement and how you were supposed to aim this perfectly—or at least so that it would hit the tree.
“Here.”
His voice came from behind you, making you jump out of your whirring thoughts. One hand lowered your arm while the other secured your grasp on the bow and moved it, only slightly. Your back arched when a sudden warmth met the back of your waist, his hand pushing her spine forward. “Keep straight, alright?” His hand stayed on your lower back. “Straight and….”
His breath brushed along your skin. The hair prickled from the touch, and you kept your eyes focused forward. Ignoring the steady drum of your heart against your ribs.
“Release.”
A shiver shot down your spine.
You let the arrow fly.
And it hit the tree.
Jake nodded and stepped away from you, his touch gone. Again, you ignored the small shudder that tickled your skin. You glared at the ground as you went to grab another arrow.
“Now try it yourself. Exactly how I showed you.” Jake ordered.
You tried to remember the exact position without thinking about how close he just was before. The placement of his hands—
And you let the arrow fly.
It grazed the bark, breaking a chunk off.
You bit the inside of your cheek while Jake chuckled, “At least you were close.”
“Quiet.”
Again, you got into your stance and aimed. The arrow completely missed. You cursed, grabbed arrows, and switched hands. You pulled the arrow back and let it hit the tree. Another landed just above that arrow. And the last one broke the arrow right at the center.
You lowered the bow, sighing as you threw your head back.
Jake’s eyes were searing into the side of your head. “Got that out of your system.”
With a shrug, you turned to look at him, “Maybe I’ll be the only one who uses a bow with my right.”
He sighed as he grabbed the broken arrow off the ground, holding it up for you to see. “You know we make these. A lot of hours spent.” You watched him toss them aside and collect the rest. There was a certain look on his face. “Stubbornness won’t get you anywhere here. Same with hardheaded idiots, too.”
You hummed, adjusting your grip on your bow. “Sorry, out of the two of us, which one is from the Jarhead Clan?”
“Easy.” He warned, his tail swishing as he passed.
With a roll of your eyes, you watched as he put the arrows back in the quiver. “We’re done already?”
Jake nodded once. “Mo’at wants to check your wounds—what’s that?” He nudged your bandaged hand before grabbing it.
You winced, yanking your hand back. “I got it from practicing. It’s fine.”
He regarded you with a look before tilting his head toward the left. “Let’s move.”
As he began walking, you waited for a beat before you finally followed. Jake noticed this, sending you an annoyed glare which was returned with one of your own glares (his heart skipped a beat, but he was skilled enough to keep a straight face).
You followed him to his ikran, who perked up as Jake approached. “Hey, boy.” He got on and helped you up with ease—show off.
The ikran took off, and you clutched onto Jake's waist, still not used to flying on these creatures. His body was tense under your touch, but he didn’t remove your hands.
Something then moved in the corner of your eye.
When you turned your head toward the direction of the movement, you saw a warrior looking back at you from a tree. Not Omatikayan. He wore armor and held a spear in his other hand.
Jake noticed him too, his face hardening. You gripped your bow nervously, praying that there weren’t more in the bushes, waiting to shoot you down.
It was out of instinct; Jake reached behind him to grip your thigh as he yipped to his ikran to speed up.
You continued watching the warrior until you couldn’t see him anymore.
Eventually, you made it to the Omatikaya Clan’s base. You slid off first, breathing out shakily. Jake got off and led you to Mo’at’s hut.
“Dreamwalker!” Arvok called to you as you passed.
You gave a small wave, and Jake caught the small interaction with an amused smirk.
When you arrived at her hut, Jake didn’t follow. “I’ll be back.”
And you didn’t question it; no doubt he wanted to check out whatever that was in the forest. You shrugged and entered the hut. Only to stop when you saw Mo’at already tending to someone.
Tsu’tey was hunched over while Mo’at was massaging his back, well, certain places that made him tense or lock up instantly. His tail was a giveaway to his pain.
Must’ve been past injuries, you figured out quietly as you set your bow down.
Both ears twitched at that. Tsu’tey instantly tensed, tail lifted. Mo’at looked at you and pulled her lips into a frown. “You are late.”
Your own tail swished. “I didn’t know I was being timed.” You crouched, sitting on the floor as you noticed a baby sling strapped to Mo’at’s chest. And a baby—Neteyam—was in the sling. Your chest warmed at the sight.
“Mmph.” The Tsahik grunted. “Stay there. I’ll get to you soon—eh? What’s that on your hand?”
You glanced down at your bandaged hand. “Just from training. Neytiri already looked at it.”
Mo’at grumbled. “I will look at it.” She tsked with a shake of her head as she pressed down on Tsu’tey’s left shoulder. The man grunted. “Are you trying to further scar yourself?”
She said the last bit in Na’vi, which you picked up on. Your tail swished excitedly behind you. “I’m not doing it on purpose. But at least I’ll end up with cool scars.”
“So, you are learning our language,” Tsu’tey spoke up this time, glancing over his shoulder toward you. He continued in Na’vi, and the only thing you picked up on was skxawng, which you knew meant “moron”. Mo’at huffed and stepped away to grab a bowl near the fire.
You scowled at him. “Ass. I’m not that far yet.”
He gave a smug smirk. “You have a lot to learn, dreamwalker.”
Mo’at finished up with him and allowed him to stand up. You watched as he took his son from her, his face softening. Something you haven’t seen much of—only once when you told them about Dr. Augustine’s avatar baby. That gentle parental look was strange to you. You were always used to that severe expression or resting bitch face that looked far too permanent at times.
“Come.” Mo’at gestured for you to replace Tsu’tey’s spot as he moved toward the exit.
You came forward and sank onto the floor. Immediately, she got to work, starting with your shoulder as she removed the bandages. You winced, the area still tender.
“Jakesully is training you?” she asked. You frowned, wondering how she figured that out as she raised your bandaged hand. “New warriors always come back with markings when they start with the bow.”
You huffed. “I’m good with my right anyway.” There was a scoff, and you turned to find Tsu’tey still standing a few feet away. “You’re still here?”
“I am Olo’eyktan.” He replied smugly. “I go where I please.”
You rolled your eyes as Mo’at hissed at you for moving too much. In the next second, the flap to the hut entrance moved, and both Jake and Neytiri entered. You straightened, and Tsu’tey became alert.
“The general from the Tipani Clan wants to meet with you. They want the warrior who attacked the dreamwalker back.” Neytiri informed with a deep frown.
Tsu’tey clenched his jaw. “Where is the general?”
“North from here. We’ll go together.” Jake replied.
“Sa’nok, can Neteyam—” Neytiri started only for Mo’at to wave the question off.
“Of course, my grandson can stay. Go.”
Tsu’tey handed Neteyam over before following Jake and Neytiri out of the hut. Neteyam squirmed against Mo’at’s chest as if sensing his parents’ absence. “Sssh, ssh.”
Once Mo’at was finished, you went to fish through your bag that you usually kept strapped across your shoulders when you heard your tablet begin to beep.
You took it out to find an activity alert on your tablet. For one of the old link shacks. Somewhere around Hell’s Gate. Of course, you were a little familiar with this area, and since it was on the way, you decided you would stop by, just to check up on things and get it out of the way.
“Bye, Mo’at.” You say as you grab your bow.
“No more scars.” She said in reply, just as you left her hut.
Halfway through the crowd of huts and the river of natives, you realize you didn’t have any arrows. Jake had taken the quiver.
You sighed, feeling around your shorts until your fingers brushed the hilt of your hunting knife.
That would have to do.
You found a pa’li just a couple of feet outside of the village and linked your queue with it.
“Dreamwalker!”
You glanced over your shoulder to find Arvok jogging his way over to you. “Where are you going? Is Neytiri or Jakesully not taking you home?”
“I can find my way home, actually.” You tucked the tablet on the pa’li’s back so you could see the GPS on the screen. “I’m just checking on an old link shack before I head home.”
He frowned. “Alone?”
“That is the idea, yes.”
“But you do not know the forest. And you are a dreamwalker. A very loud one.” You frowned as he went and grabbed a pa’li. “I will go with you.”
Not bothering to protest, you just steered your pa’li forward with Arvok following close behind.
The journey to the link shack wasn’t too long. Arvok, thankfully, wasn’t as distracting as you expected. Save for the small questions about everything you did.
“What is that you keep staring at?”
“A tablet.”
“Why are you staring at it?”
“Because it’s leading me to where I need to go. Like a map.”
“Ah.”
A beat went by.
“Dreamwalker?”
You sighed. “Yes?”
“What is a map?”
You didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up—he wasn’t Sully or Norm. So, all you said in response was, “ssh.” And thankfully, Arvok listened.
Finally, you got to the link shack.
This was in a large tree. And one of the windows had been broken, which explained the toxic air alert on your tablet.
You slid off your pa’li and approached the tree. Both you and Arvok climbed up. By the time you got to the branch that led you toward the link shack entrance, Arvok took an arrow from his quiver and drew it slightly. You frowned, but you took out your hunting knife. Just in case.
Before either you or Arvok could do anything, an arrow whizzed out of the broken window. You ducked in time as it flew over your head.
“Damn these arrows!” You grumbled while Arvok aimed his arrow at the window.
“Mawey!” He called. The rest you couldn’t pick up, but it sounded like an order.
Whoever was inside responded back with a hiss. Someone was inside. Maybe more than one person, you weren’t sure yet. They went back and forth for a bit before Arvok lowered his bow slightly and gestured for you to approach the door.
With a confused frown, you approached the door, clutching your knife. You glanced back at Arvok, who gave you a reassuring nod.
After some great reluctance and ignoring your racing heart, you pushed the shack door open.
Game devs say that yuri games are being disproportionately targeted for delisting and deindexing on Itch.
Game Devs Say That Itch's Adult Content Ban Is Targeting Lesbian Games, Even If They're Safe For Work
wow I wonder who could’ve foreseen that bans based on nsfw and obscenity laws would quickly expand into censoring the existence of queer art, following the historical precedent of fascism finding an acceptable in-point (like “protecting the children”) and immediately beginning to encroach into peoples private freedoms
damn, y'all are big mad that rape simulator 3000 isn't available anymore
i know that it must be really easy for you to sit behind anon and feel morally superior saying this, because the nature of the media that institutions are trying to ban is NSFW and kinky, thus making it "embarrassing" and difficult to defend. But the fact that it's easy to cast opposition in a light that presents them all as "degenerate" perverts and therefore incentivises people to take warning voices less seriously is something worth examining. Sex workers have always been canaries in the coal mine for encroaching fascism and puritanism because "protecting the kids" is a slogan that is, on paper, impossible to oppose, but always ALWAYS is the start of a slippery slope of censorship that grows to include queer existence, queer joy, and transparency in queer medical help.
Banning content purely because it's obscene has always been a dangerous sentiment because noone has the same parameters of what's appropriate. Trans people just existing is obscene to some. That doesn't make them more morally correct when they bang their drums for trans representation to be eradicated. You bring up "rape simulator 3000" as evidence that we need limitations on NSFW media. Okay. So what did you say when Mouthwashing was banned, a game that explicitly depicted sexual assault in the context of male accountability, and moved thousands of people online? Is all art depicting anything unsavoury, no matter the intention, destined to be stripped from the internet? Are the SA victims who deal with their trauma and reclaim their bodies through SA roleplay worthy of shame and derision for not doing it in a sanitised way you approve of?
Are you truly prepared to let your government, wherever you live, decide what is suitable for you to come across online? How far would you be willing to take that? Are governments allowed to disrupt BDSM forums? Are websites educating people about appropriate knifeplay or CNC set to be wiped off the face of the earth? Or have you, in a desire to cater your own online experience, become someone who arrogantly orders for the table without asking what everyone wants to eat?
Please have a moment of silence for the people who were killed instead of freed when news of emancipation finally reached the furthest corners of the american south.
have another moment for the ledgers, catalogs, and records that were burned and the homes that were destroyed to hide the presence of very much alive and still enslaved people on dozens of plantations and homesteads across the south for decades after emancipation.
and have a third moment for those who were hunted and killed while fleeing the south to find safety across the border, overseas, in the north and to the west.
black people. light a candle, write a note to those who have passed telling them what you have achieved in spite of the racist and intolerant conditions of this world, feel the warmth of the flame under your hand, say a prayer of rememberance if you are religious, place the note under the candle, and then blow it out.
if you have children, sit them down and tell them anything you know about the life of oldest black person you've ever met. it doesn't have to be your own family. tell them what you know about what life was like for us in the days, years, decades after emancipation. if you don't know much, look it up and learn about it together.
This is Juneteenth.
white people CAN interact with this post. share it, spread it.
You want to call your House rep now and tell them Trump needs to be impeached immediately for defying a Supreme Court order (re: Kilmar Abrego Garcia), which functionally voids our constitution and means no one in America has rights anymore.
I am not exaggerating.
As of now, anybody can be disappeared, no due process, no recourse. Trump is openly disregarding a Supreme Court order and says he’ll send US citizens to El Salvador.
This is not a drill.
Call your House rep and tell them they must impeach. Tell them if they cannot bring themselves to impeach, they must resign. A more open and shut case to impeach is not possible. Trump and his administration are saying openly, in public, that anybody can be kidnapped by ICE, even in error, and disappeared permanently.
Call your senators, too, and tell them to support impeachment (it goes to them once it passes a majority House vote).
Find your representatives. Learn how to find and connect with them. Stay informed about their bills, committees, and contributions.
"Hello, my name is _______ and I am a constituent from _______. My address is ________.
I am reaching out today to urge Representative ______ to call for the impeachment of President Trump due to his refusal to comply with the Supreme Court's April 10th decision regarding Kilmar Abrego Garcia, who was unlawfully deported and has been charged with no crime. As Justice Sotomayor stated, this inaction implies the government's ability to 'deport and incarcerate any person, including U.S. citizens, without legal consequence, so long as it does so before a court can intervene.' This precedent is unconstitutional, highly illegal, and grounds for impeachment. Every individual, regardless of immigration status, must be guaranteed a right to due process.
Representative _____, I urge you to stand on the right side of history today by calling for President Trump's impeachment. This administration can not be allowed to continue unilaterally defying the checks and balances that are intrinsic to our government."
You can also find your representative and senators and their phone numbers on https://5calls.org/
Please don't be afraid of calling. Your job would just be to be a data point, not to sound perfect. Here's some info on why calling is effective.
It's called "escrache", and the Argentinians invented it: you just organise demonstrations, noisy ones, lengthy ones, in front of the private residences of politicians.
Need more vampire!cregan thoughts pls🙏 doesn't have to be dirty but imo I need to know about how he bites his wife (while railing her)- 📑 anon
okay ive just had a premonition about this (my eyes rolled into the back of my head and i satrted floating)
i think even after its well established that cregan's free to bite you - especially during sex - he never does it without warning. its the same routine every time, no matter if he's actually feeding or just biting, or while cuddled in bed with or sheathed inside of you.
he trails his lips up to the place he plans to sink his teeth, kissing your skin and slowing down any other ministrations of his in the process. its intentional; he wants you to feel him coming - always giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted. you never do, of course.
once he comes to the place he plans to break your pretty skin at, he starts with pressing a final kiss to the area. except this time, his lips don't come back up.
usually, by now, the excitement and anticipation of it has sped your heart considerably. he can hear its quick-paced rhythm - can hear the rushing sound of flowing blood, too. and although he can (and does) appreciate such a thing as the racing of sweet crimson, his unoccupied hand always does something to calm you; to remind you that cregan is still here. a caress of skin, a cup of your cheek - you respond all the same, pursuing the comfort he offers by favoring into him.
it doesn't seem nearly as long of a process when it actually happens, because as cregan cups your cheek, you feel the graze of teeth on your skin.
he's quite gentle in this routine. always a first graze of dull teeth before the sharp sting of fangs. the seconds that pass between the two feelings are another opportunity to change your mind and pull away. you always have that option - whenever, wherever.
the intrusion of fangs always make you gasp, whether it be the shock of pain or your nerves in disbelief their worrying of half-expected pain is a sentiment that's come to a crest. they catch up quickly, however. action absorbs anxiety.
if ever asked to describe it, you're not sure you'd have the words.
pain, like all things, is a spectrum. quite almost everybody understands this, yet somehow it always remains unspoken. the kind that comes with feeding isn't the same as the kind experienced when stabbed or shocked, no. those are the kinds whose hold you always, whether on purpose or not, try and yank away from.
cregan's teeth bring the same amount of discomfort found only in picking skin, or walking with a small leg wound. it hurts, surely, but you don't try to pull free from its grasp. this the pain that has carved an empty space next to you, that from the time of your birth to your fleshly departure you spend countless hours learning to sit beside when filled.
and, truthfully, the pain is dull. a slow throb as blood does its job without second thought, rushing to fill the wound, no matter how inflicted. but there is - undoubtedly - a certain pleasure that's found, too. it aches, but it also clouds. if the feeling of steady fog filling the silent earth, so much so that you cannot see your hand outstretched in front of you, could be not only captured, but embodied, it would be this. it would be how your lashes flutter shut as your body fills with static, feeling like, if not careful, you could follow your redness - right into the mouth of your greedy husband. and, gods, is it exhilarating. it is an exhilarating feeling - to give.
and the feeling of taking even more so.
but cregan is careful to not succumb to that feeling entirely, lest he get too carried away. it doesn't require much effort, thoughts of you are more than enough to override even the taste of blood in his mouth.
and that dance - of push and pull - of take and give, is one inexplicable thing. is such that is inexplainable using the limitations provided by the mere common tongue. and so it remains incomprehensible.
Im gonna bust. This is literature, people. GRRM wishes he could write this good. Left no crumbs on the plate. Matter of fact, the plate is gone. Devoured. Just like I devoured this. Dipper, you've done it again.
Luigi Mangione is an innocent man who has not been confirmed to have been involved in any crime.
We have police documents confirming he was not DNA tested or fingerprinted, and confirmation no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene due to incomplete prints and immense DNA contamination of New Yorks streets.
No evidence has linked him to the crime.
No facial recognition has even remotely come close to identifying the cctv suspects face as that of Luigi. His own family and friends do not see a resemblance. Most people agree the features in the cctv do not match the very well documented features of Luigi Mangione.
Luigi Mangione has no history of violence nor with firearms. He is a vegan pacifist with no history of mental illness and an aversion to killing even bugs.
He is still only a SUSPECT and all involvement in any crimes are merely ALLEGED at this time. Alleged by the most corrupt police force in the entire nation; the NYPD who do more organized crime than they've ever stopped.
Luigi Mangione's attorneys confirmed they have been shown absolutely nothing that even places Luigi at the scene of the crime.
People have repeatedly tried to recreate the entire timeline of events and found it is not physically possible to do what was alleged in the time frame police gave. Especially dubious for Luigi Mangione to have done given his recent, crippling back injury.
Luigi Mangione in his own words has said police planted evidence on him and are not being honest about his arrest or what he had on him at the time.
There is no body cam footage of Luigi's arrest.
There is no autopsy report for Brian Thompson.
Luigi has so far been:
Stripped of his hat, jacket and shoes and forced to walk in the cold in December wearing wet socks.
Forced to urinate on himself where police then took and published humiliation photos of him.
He was then stripped of his shirt pants and socks and put in a blue psychiatric gown and strapped to a chair inmates called "the torture chair" and left for prolonged periods of time. To the point the entire inmate population at the prison protested in anger.
He was slammed unto a brick wall, choked, and shoved by various police officers for no reason.
Was marched through nyc at gunpoint by officers with military firearms, forced to wear chains
Was called a murderer by the mayor of NYC on national television.
Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals.
He is now being forced to sleep on the floor despite again, a crippling back injury.
Again, he has not even had trial yet. He is an innocent man by the very definition of the law. He has nothing tying him to any crime. And even the crime itself was a nobody being shot in a city where nobodies are shot everyday, seven days a week. And those shooters don't get this treatment. Cannibals don't get this treatment. Serial killers don't get this treatment. Why are they doing this? Because we entered an oligarchy and they want people who are rich to matter more than people who are not. The NO ONE, no name, insignificant person that Brian THOMPSON always was and WILL ALWAYS BE is more important because of his net worth, to the fascist oligarchy we've entered into, than the innocent man, data scientist and robotics engineer with a promising future that is Luigi Mangione.
The NYPD doesn't want him to be innocent. They are torturing him gleefully and postponing his trial because they know he's innocent. They just want to scare the public into understanding that the ultra rich, even those who's names will never be remembered as anything other than markings on a never visited tombstone, are the only persons who matter now. Not yours. Never yours. You're poor. They'll torture you without a trial too. Your life means nothing to them. Your children dying in school shootings means nothing to them. Pinning a crime on an innocent man they can beat to scare the public out of class consciousness is the only thing that matters to them now. Depose them.
rolling stone: every person in a position of power in the US collaborated together to do this to you. the media sold you out for profit and aided in the indoctrination of millions to right-wing xenophobia via instilling a fake crime panic. Biden sold you out by putting his own selfish ambitions before the wellbeing of 330~ million citizens by running for a 2nd term and failing to undo any of the cruelty and pain done to people who were hurt under Trump and in some cases making the pain worse. the rest of the Democratic party sold you out by falling in line, normalizing Trumps rhetoric and becoming Republican Lite. Federal law enforcement sold you out via Merrick Garland doing absolutely positively nothing to prosecute right-wing extremism, falsely adding to the Trump narrative that it wasn't all that serious. and most of all, corporations sold you out as they always do, by working together to falsely inflate prices over the last 4 years, causing the economy to appear far worse to the (yet again) unwitting public who have been totally devastated and in some cases made homeless. this also dooms the Democrats on the economy for the foreseeable future. hold these institutions accountable.
you, a person completely immune to being radicalized through propaganda: the american people really dropped the ball here
Haven't used tiktok since around June-ish of 2024. Only really bummed about capcut because all of my projects were on there, as well as tiktok audios I'd saved and music I'd edited for said projects. That being said, fuck TikTok and fuck that orange prick.
mercy seems like a long shot here, so my prayer for inauguration day 2025: may they be incompetent. may they just be really bad at implementation. may their egos choke their effectiveness. may they drown themselves week by week with infighting and selfish posturing. may they be easily distracted. may the very governors and senators and agencies and religious leaders that the new administration expects to be friendly force endless stalemates to preserve their own power. may every delay turn into a three ring blame circus so chaotic that no one remembers what they were doing. may the good and necessary parts of government be too boring to draw attention and keep running quietly in the background. may the next four years be full of sound and fury and signify nothing.
Its already been mentioned but I love Tom having acne and so Cregan has acne bc it makes him so real and even more attractive imo (adult acne havers unite)
no but this is so real!!!!! it’s so endearing to me 😞 and the acne scars he’d have from occasionally picking at it too omg he’s my everything
AND WHILE WE’RE ON THE SUBJECT ☝️ he also has stretch marks from having so many growth spurts as a kid (mainly on his back + shoulders but smaller ones can be found all over)
Imagine kissing his stretch marks in the morning, all cuddled up for warmth and just lazing about in bed and snuggling together. You pressing warm and soft kisses against all the stretch marks on shoulders and whispering against his skin how much you love him.
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