Kaitlan M

I like to read alot, 19

[k8lan06]

Worst month ever

[k8lan06]

What's up sluts grwm as I fucking die to the flu

[floydtheflorist]

Is that my glorious, elegant, intelligent, charming, kind, thoughtful, strong, courageous, creative, brilliant, gentle, humble, generous, passionate, wise, funny, loyal, dependable, graceful, radiant, calm, confident, warm, compassionate, witty, adventurous, respectful, sincere, magnetic, bold, articulate, empathetic, inspiring, honest, patient, powerful, attentive, uplifting, classy, friendly, reliable, ambitious, intuitive, talented, supportive, grounded, determined, charismatic, extraordinary, trustworthy, noble, dignified, perceptive, innovative, refined, considerate, balanced, open-minded, composed, imaginative, mindful, optimistic, virtuous, noble-hearted, well-spoken, quick-witted, deep, philosophical, fearless, affectionate, expressive, emotionally intelligent, resourceful, delightful, fascinating, sharp, selfless, driven, assertive, authentic, vibrant, playful, observant, skillful, generous-spirited, practical, comforting, brave, wise-hearted, enthusiastic, dependable, tactful, enduring, discreet, well-mannered, composed, mature, tasteful, joyful, understanding, genuine, brilliant-minded, encouraging, well-rounded, magnetic, dynamic, radiant, radiant-spirited, soulful, radiant-hearted, insightful, creative-souled, justice-minded, reliable-hearted, tender, uplifting-minded, persevering, devoted, angelic, down-to-earth, golden-hearted, gentle-spirited, clever, courageous-hearted, courteous, harmonious, loyal-minded, beautiful-souled, easygoing, sincere-hearted, respectful-minded, comforting-voiced, confident-minded, emotionally strong, respectful-souled, imaginative-hearted, protective, noble-minded, confident-souled, wise-eyed, loving, serene, magnetic-souled, expressive-eyed, brilliant-hearted, inspiring-minded, and absolutely unforgettable Kissy Missy spotted?

[k8lan06]

OuuuHH KISSY MISSY PROPAGANDA 🙂‍↔️

[k8lan06]

Pathetic Nor trying to win you back.

[maaeveeee]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐀𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> loading…

Warnings: angst, heavy tension, enemies to lovers, fluff in the end, swearing, reader is stubborn, both of them are arrogant, slow burn, multiple chapters

Summary: Read part 1

Author’s note: Bro I finally finished the hardest part. Part 3 and 4 are coming soon! Will add pictures later

Tags: @k8lan06 @flowofthewind

You were already awake, hours before, your eyes locked on the ceiling where the bioluminescent moss pod was pulsing its light, a captured star.

It was a gentle glow, almost taunting, and you remembered the fireflies of the forest you and Neteyam would chase as a child.

Everywhere you went, everything glowed differently, colder, bluer, wrong. The unfairness of it all burned in your chest like a slow fire.

You had been the good daughter, the one who followed rules, who kept her head down, who never complained.

And now? Now you were being forced to abandon everything you were, everything you knew, just because your father decided the forest was no longer safe.

You resented the ocean for being there, you resented the Metkayina for taking you in like you were some kind of charity and you resented yourself for being unable to prevent any of this.

You moved positions to sit along the edge of your sleeping mat as you sat with a straight and stiff back and sleepy eyes fixed on the woven walls of your hut as gray light filtered through and colored the room with hues of loss.

Each member of your family woke up one by one with the passing hours.

Neteyam woke up first. This happened every time. His eyes opened. He woke up. He looked at you sitting there. You were all set to go out. He wanted to tell you something, and his mouth opened ever so slightly as if to let the words out, but they never passed his lips.

He knew you too well and he knew the tempests that brewed inside you and that he had nothing to offer in the way of comfort at the moment.

Lo’ak boosted himself up with a wince, leaning to examine the ceiling as if the solutions would appear there. “Every muscle I have is sore,” he complained aloud to no one in particular.

The hand scrubbed his face. His eyes locked on to you, and for an instant, his current mood was dissolved into doubt. "Hey. You're…coming..?”

It wasn’t a question. It was more like an observation in shock, as if he hadn’t seriously expected you to carry out Jake's order.

Your eyes didn’t meet him. You simply couldn’t. Your gaze was locked on the wall, your jaw set, your ears flattened against your skull. The silence between you grew thicker, more awkward.

Kiri woke up, sitting up gradually, a muddled halo of hair around her face. Her gaze went to you, instead of saying anything, she touched her hand to your ankle and gave a gentle squeeze before turning to assist Tuk.

Tuk woke up last, small and drowsy, stumbling and pressing her cheek to your arm. “You’re coming with us?” she whispered, her voice thick with hope muffled by her sleep.

The hope was like an iceberg in your chest, sharp, cold, impossible to ignore. You couldn’t talk. You only put your hand on her head, your fingers shaking slightly against her braids.

Jake and Neytiri soon woke up and moved lightly to begin breakfast. Smells of roasted fish and sea fruit filled Marui, and it made your stomach turn.

Jake and Neytiri woke soon after, moving quietly to prepare breakfast. The smell of roasted fish and sea fruit filled the marui, but it turned your stomach. You stayed where you were, staring at the wall, ignoring the sounds of your family moving around you.

“Morning,” he said, voice low, careful. “You hungry?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn your head.

He tried again. “We have to discuss what happened yesterday—”

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri whispered, touching his arm. “Let her be,” Jake let his breath out, a glint of frustration flashing through his features, but he didn't pressure.

Breakfast passed in near silence. Lo’ak tried to joke, Kiri offered you a piece of fruit, Tuk pressed against your side. You ate in a daze, the food flavorless in your mouth.

But as it was finally time to part, your feet had other ideas, as if the gravity that held you to the ground was in agreement with you and did not want you to move towards the water.

You were standing outside the marui, and the siblings were walking ahead of you, but then turned to look at you. They did not speak. They did not compel you to. They only waited for you to take a step forward.

But suddenly, inside the marui, Jake’s voice made your blood boil.

“Move it!”

The voice thundered from the doorway, its finality sharp.

You turned to glare, your ears flat against your skull, a hot retort rising in your throat. Suddenly Neteyam’s eyes were on you, calm, steady. He stepped forward, placed both hands on your shoulders, and gently turned you around.

"Come on," he said softly. “Let’s go.”

Tuk suddenly skipped a little bit ahead, her small tail swishing back and forth as she took hold of your arm to urge your slow, resisting footsteps. You groaned in irritation, but you quickened your pace.

You felt like you were walking to your own execution.

You felt every glance, real or imagined, from every Metkayina you encountered. You kept your eyes ahead, your back straight, refusing to let them see you waver even the slightest bit.

However, the training lagoon in the east offered a deceivingly serene atmosphere. Tsireya was already in the shallows, smiling with a warmth and sincerity like the rising sun itself.

“Good morning,” she called out, her voice clear and welcoming, “I’m glad you’re all here. The water is perfect today.”

Loak grinned back from the front of the group, his tail flicking with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Morning, Tsireya,” he said, his voice casual but with that underlying eagerness he always had around her.

He didn’t wait for more, leaping into the lagoon with a splash that sent droplets flying, breaking the glassy surface into a cascade of ripples.

Neteyam followed a beat later, his dive more controlled, slicing into the water with barely a sound. He surfaced with a nod to Tsireya, water streaming from his braids.

Kiri lingered on the platform a moment longer, her expression thoughtful as she glanced at the water. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice soft.

Tuk squeezed your hand tighter, her small fingers warm against your palm, but she looked up at Tsireya with a shy smile. “Hi, Tsireya,” she said, her voice tiny but brave, before glancing back at you for reassurance.

Kiri held out her hand from the water, and Tuk let go of yours to take it, stepping off the platform with a small giggle as the water splashed around her knees.

Kiri pulled her close, whispering something that made Tuk laugh again, and they waded deeper together, leaving you alone on the platform, the wood suddenly feeling too solid, too exposed under your feet.

Before you could take that first step, a shadow fell over the group.

Aonung appeared without warning, stepping up onto the platform from the side path with the easy, careless grace of someone who owned every inch of the reef.

He’d come from the other side of the lagoon, water still dripping from his braids, his topknot slightly loosened from whatever he’d been doing before.

His arms were crossed, tail flicking once in lazy amusement as he took in the scene: Tsireya smiling in the water, your brothers already swimming, and you, standing rigid on the edge like you were waiting for the world to end.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and mocking, “look who finally decided to show up. The forest princess graces us with her presence. What, did you get lost on the way? Or were you too busy climbing trees in your dreams to remember the water exists?”

You stiffened, ears flattening against your skull. You didn’t turn around, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The hatred simmered hot in your chest—this arrogant fish boy, standing there like he owned the ocean, mocking you as if you were the intruder. “If I wanted your opinion, fish boy, I would have asked for it,” you said, voice cool and sharp, still not looking at him.

Aonung laughed—short, sharp, entirely devoid of humor. He stepped closer, his presence looming just behind you, the faint heat from his skin on your back. “Last I checked, you’re the one standing on dry wood like it’s going to save you. Afraid of getting your pretty forest feet wet?”

Lo’ak surfaced from his dive, catching the exchange. He splashed water toward Aonung, voice rising. “Hey, back off, asshole.”

Kiri let out a light, amused laugh, a soft smile spreading across her face, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand when Neteyam shot her a sharp glance.

Aonung paused, head tilting in confusion, brow furrowing as he turned toward Lo’ak. “What did you just call me?”

Lo’ak smirked, wiping water from his face. “Asshole. It’s a sky person thing. Means you’re being a dick.”

Aonung’s confusion deepened, his tail flicking sharply as he processed the unfamiliar word. He turned back to you, eyes narrowing slightly as if you held the key to this strange insult.

But you had already crouched down, muscles coiling like a spring, balancing on the balls of your feet. The wood was warm and rough under your palms as you lowered yourself, the platform creaking faintly beneath the shift in weight.

Without a word, you pushed off, leaping from the platform in a slow, deliberate arc. The air rushed past your ears for a heartbeat, cool and sharp, your braids whipping back like dark ribbons.

The water met you feet first, cool and enveloping, swallowing you up to the chest in a single, shocking plunge. Bubbles exploded around you, the sudden chill biting into your skin, the pressure pressing against your ears like a muffled shout.

You resurfaced with a gasp, water streaming from your face and braids, the salt stinging your eyes and coating your tongue.

The sea felt alive, currents tugging at your legs, the faint hum of underwater life vibrating through your body. You kicked to stay above water, arms cutting through the surface in strong, steady strokes, keeping your head high, refusing to let the waves pull you under.

The water was deeper than it looked, the bottom sandy and soft under your toes when you tested it, but you didn’t let yourself sink. You swam with determined, forceful movements, head up, eyes forward, every stroke a defiance.

Aonung stayed where he was for a moment, watching you. Then, without a word, he crouched down as well—muscles bunching under his teal skin, tail curling behind him for balance like a coiled spring.

He pushed off, the platform creaking loudly under the force of his leap, his tail whipping through the air in a graceful arc, cutting a clean line before he hit the water like a blade, straight and perfect, barely a splash.

He resurfaced a second later, water sluicing off his tightly braided dark hair, droplets clinging to the strands. His eyes met yours again, a smirk lingering on his lips.

Tsireya swam closer, her smile returning. “Alright, now that we’re all in… let’s go get you an ilu. Everyone else is already done with theirs.”

You nodded once, still catching your breath, and followed her lead, ignoring the weight of Aonung’s gaze on your back.

the water turned gradually rising less and less around you until it settled just below your waist. The sand beneath your feet was soft and warm from the sun, shifting slightly with each step, grains clinging to your ankles like tiny, stubborn stars.

The transition felt almost cruel, too shallow to hide in, too deep to walk away from. The surface rippled around your hips, cool against your skin, while the sun beat down overhead, turning the turquoise water into a blinding sheet of light.

Every breath you took carried the sharp, clean scent of salt and something sweeter, like distant sea blossoms drifting on the current.

Aonung swam ahead, cutting through the water with effortless strokes, he didn’t look back once, He simply raised one hand, fingers splayed in that precise, almost reverent gesture, and made the low, rolling call that echoed across the lagoon. The sound vibrated through the water, deep and melodic, like a song only the sea could answer.

Within moments, several ilu responded.

They rose from the deeper blue like living shadows, sleek bodies gliding upward, fins cutting elegant trails through the water. Their skin shimmered, silvery teal, pale violet, deep indigo scales catching the sunlight in flashes of color that made the lagoon feel alive.

One by one they approached the group, curious and calm, their long snouts nudging gently at the newcomers.

Lo’ak’s ilu was the first one to approach him, a strong, dark teal one with faint golden streaks circled him once, then pressed its head against his chest. Lo’ak’s face lit up, a rare, unguarded grin breaking across his features as he ran his hand along its smooth flank.

The ilu responded with a low trill, rolling slightly so Lo’ak could settle onto its back. He adjusted quickly, thighs gripping the sides, hands finding the natural holds along its neck.

Neteyam’s ilu was next, a pale blue with delicate silver patterns, almost shy. It approached slowly, circling twice before nudging his palm. Neteyam smiled and leaned in to connect, his fingers tracing the curve of its jaw.

The ilu settled beneath him in one smooth motion, and he straightened, already balanced, already in control.

Kiri’s ilu came last among them, a graceful, almost translucent creature with faint lavender undertones. It didn’t circle, it simply rose in front of her, head tilted, as if it had been waiting.

Kiri reached out without hesitation, palm flat against its forehead. Her eyes closed for a second, a small, private smile touching her lips. “I see you,” she whispered. The ilu pressed back gently, then slid beneath her like it had always belonged there.

Tuk clung to Kiri’s side, laughing as a tiny, playful ilu, pale pink with soft white markings nudged her playfully, splashing water up to her chin. “It likes me!” she squealed, reaching out to stroke its snout.

You watched it all a few feet behind, water lapping at your waist, arms crossed tight over your chest. The creatures were beautiful, undeniably so.

Their bodies were long and streamlined, fins flowing like silk, eyes large and intelligent. But they were part of this place. This alien, endless blue that had swallowed your forest whole. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach out.

A light, pinkish ilu swam up to you then, beautiful in a way that almost hurt to look at. Its scales caught the sun like rose quartz, soft and iridescent, its movements gentle and curious. It circled once, then paused in front of you, head tilted, eyes large and calm, waiting.

Tsireya’s face lit up. “She likes you,” she said softly, swimming a little closer. “That’s good. She’s patient. Perfect for beginners.”

Aonung, who had been watching from a few paces away in front of them al, let out a low, amused sound. He swam forward until he was right beside you, water streaming off his shoulders, tail flicking lazily beneath the surface.

“If you want to live here,” he said, voice dripping with mock sympathy, “you’re going to have to ride one eventually.”

You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze with the same stubborn fire that had carried you through every insult so far. “I don’t need your permission to exist here,” you said, voice low and even. “And I don’t need your advice either.”

Aonung’s smirk widened, eyes glinting. “No? Then what are you doing here, forest girl?”

Tsireya shot him a look when she had noticed your brothers wanting to interfere again, “Aonung.”

Tsireya exhaled softly, the sound almost lost beneath the gentle lapping of waves against the platform and the distant, melodic calls of ilu circling farther out in the lagoon.

She turned her gaze first to her brother, then to you, then to the Sully children who were already drifting closer to their newly bonded ilu.

Her smile remained warm, patient, the kind that never quite reached the level of pity but carried a quiet understanding of how hard this all must be.

“Alright,” she said, her voice gentle, “Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, come with me. We’ll move to the breathing shallows. You can practice holding your breath longer and start bonding more deeply with your ilu. The water’s deeper there, and it’ll be easier to feel the rhythm without… distractions.”

She gestured toward the open expanse beyond the platform, where the color deepened from bright turquoise to a rich, inviting blue.

Lo’ak glanced back at you and Aonung, mouth opening like he wanted to protest, but Tsireya’s look stopped him. Neteyam’s ears flicked once, his expression tightening, he didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone with Aonung any more than you did.

Kiri’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, soft and worried, before she turned her ilu toward the deeper water. Tuk waved once, small hand fluttering, then buried her face against Kiri’s shoulder as they moved away.

Aonung’s tail flicked sharply beneath the surface, sending a small ripple toward you. “What about her?” he asked, jerking his chin in your direction, voice thick with irritation. “You’re just going to leave her with me?”

Tsireya turned to him, her expression patient but firm. “Yes, Aonung. You’re staying with her. You can help her bond with the ilu. She’s here to learn, same as everyone else.”

Aonung’s ears flattened, his smirk twisting into something closer to a scowl. “Me? Why me? I’m not a babysitter.”

Tsireya didn’t flinch. “Because you’re the best rider here. And because I asked you to be helpful. Not difficult.”

You felt the heat rise in your face, sharp and immediate. “I don’t need his help,” you said, voice low and cutting. “I can figure it out myself. I’m not staying here with him.”

Aonung turned to you with a scoff, smirk returning full force. “Oh, really? You can’t even get your feet wet. You’ll need more than stubbornness to bond with an ilu.”

You stepped forward, water swirling around your waist, chin lifted, tail lashing once beneath the surface. “I don’t need your permission to bond with anything. And I definitely don’t need you hovering like some smug lifeguard.”

Tsireya sighed, already turning toward the deeper water with the others. “You two can argue later,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m taking the others. Aonung, help her. Actually help her.”

With that, she led Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk away, their ilu gliding smoothly beside them. The group grew smaller, voices fading into the distance until it was just you and Aonung left in the shallows, the pinkish ilu still waiting patiently in front of you, head tilted, eyes calm and expectant.

Aonung crossed his arms again, tail flicking once beneath the water. “Well?” he said, voice quieter now, but still edged with that infuriating smugness. “You heard her. Get on.”

You stared at the ilu, its rose quartz scales shimmering, fins drifting like silk, long snout tilted as if it were studying you just as carefully as you studied it. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Everything this place was supposed to be.

And you hated it for that.

You crossed your arms tighter, ears flattening. “I’m not getting on anything until I’m ready. And I’m not ready when you’re standing there looking at me like I’m some kind of joke.”

Aonung rolled his eyes at you. “Then stand there all day. See how long it takes before the tide pulls you under. Or are you going to keep pretending you’re above all this?”

You felt the heat rise in your face, sharp and immediate. “I’m not pretending anything. I just don’t see the point in rushing into something that isn’t mine.”

He stepped closer, water swirling around his thighs. “Then what are you doing here, forest girl?

You lifted your chin higher, refusing to back down. “I’m here because I was ordered to be. Not because I want to be. So don’t flatter yourself thinking this is about you.”

Aonung’s smirk didn’t falter, but something flickered in his eyes—interest, maybe, he leaned in just a fraction, voice dropping. “Then prove it.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the air between you thick with tension. Then, slowly, you turned back to the pink ilu.

It waited, patient, head tilted, eyes calm.

You reached out—hesitant at first, fingers trembling just slightly. The ilu’s skin was warm, smooth as polished stone, softer than you expected. It leaned into your touch, a low, rumbling trill vibrating through your palm, up your arm, into your chest.

Aonung watched, silent for once.

You exhaled, slow and shaky, and placed your hand flat against its forehead.

You felt it all at once: the ilu’s calm curiosity, its steady heartbeat, the gentle pull of the water around it, the quiet joy of being chosen. It flowed into you, warm and bright, like sunlight breaking through clouds after a storm.

The bond was immediate, a soft hum in your mind, like a second pulse syncing with your own. The ilu’s emotions brushed against yours—trusting, patient, a faint thrill at the new connection.

Your fingers lingered on its forehead, tracing the smooth ridges where the kuru had joined with yours, the skin warm and slightly yielding under your touch. It tilted its head just a fraction, pressing back gently, as if encouraging you to keep going.

The sensation was strange, intimate, almost vulnerable, and for a heartbeat, the hatred you carried for this place felt distant, muffled by the quiet wonder of it.

Aonung swam closer, his movements fluid and silent, the water barely rippling around him as he circled to your side. His tail flicked lazily beneath the surface, sending small waves lapping at your waist, and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the ilu.

“Well,” he said, voice low and laced with that familiar smug edge, “looks like she didn’t run. Congrats, forest girl. You didn’t scare her off yet. But petting it like a baby isn’t going to get you anywhere. Get on.”

You glanced up at him, fingers still stroking the ilu’s forehead, the warmth of the bond making it hard to pull away completely. But his tone snapped you back, irritation flaring hot in your chest. “I’m not rushing,” you said, voice cool and sharp. “Unlike you, I don’t treat everything like a competition.”

Aonung’s smirk widened, eyes glinting with amusement. “Rushing? You’re standing there like you’re about to propose marriage to the thing. It’s an ilu, not your long lost mate. Get on its back, or are you waiting for an invitation?”

You straightened, ears flicking back in annoyance, tail lashing through the water with a sharp splash. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to shut up and let me do it my way. Not everyone needs to show off like they own the ocean.”

He laughed, short, sharp, the sound echoing across the lagoon. “Your way? Your way is standing there looking lost. Sit like this—” He gestured to the ilu’s back, his hand slicing the air in a quick, precise motion. “Hips loose, knees bent. Grip with your thighs, not your hands. Or are you planning to hug it to death first?”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to budge. “I know how to ride. I’ve bonded with an ikran. This can’t be that different.”

Aonung’s brow arched, his tail flicking once in mock surprise. “Flying lizards are for forest freaks. Down here, you have to go under. You’ll have to get underwater and swim, feel the current, let the ilu pull you through it. Or are you too good for that too?”

You stepped closer to the ilu, placing one hand on its back, feeling the smooth, warm scales shift slightly beneath your palm. “I’m not too good for anything,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just not in a hurry to drown because some fish boy thinks he knows everything.”

He swam right up beside you now, close enough that his arm brushed yours, water dripping from his braids onto your shoulder. “if you drown, it’ll be because you’re too stubborn to listen. Adjust your legs, wider stance, knees bent more. Grip here—” His hand hovered near your thigh, not touching, but close enough to make the air feel thicker. “—or you’ll slide right off when it dives.”

You adjusted slowly, deliberately, thighs pressing against the ilu’s sides, knees bending as you found the natural balance.

The creature responded with a low trill, vibrating through your body, approving. But you kept your eyes on Aonung, chin lifted. “Satisfied? Or do you need to micromanage every breath too?”

Aonung’s smirk didn’t fade, but he leaned back a fraction, giving you space. “We’ll see. Now your hands, rest them along the ridges, don’t grip like you’re trying to choke it. Feel the movement. Don’t fight it.”

You placed your hands where he said, fingers splaying over the natural holds, the ilu’s skin warm and alive under your touch.

He nodded once, voice dropping. “Good. Now, when you’re ready, lean forward. Let it take you under. Swim with it—not against it. Think you can manage that, forest girl?”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to let him bait you into another argument. Instead, you focused on the ilu beneath you, its steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of its sides against your thighs, the quiet trust humming through the bond.

You exhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to drop, and leaned forward. The ilu responded instantly.

It surged ahead with smooth, powerful grace, the water parting around you in clean silver sheets. The sudden movement pulled a small, involuntary gasp from your throat, cool water rushing past your face, tugging at your braids, filling your ears with a muffled shout.

You tightened your thighs instinctively, knees bending as Aonung had said, hands resting lightly on the ridges along the ilu’s neck.

For a heartbeat it felt right: the rhythm of the swim matching your heartbeat, the current flowing with you instead of against.

Then you overcorrected.

Your hips stiffened, just a fraction, but enough. You gripped harder with your thighs instead of relaxing into it, trying to force control where none was needed. The ilu rolled slightly, adjusting to your tension, and the shift threw your balance off completely.

One moment you were riding, the next you were tumbling sideways into the water with a startled yelp, arms flailing for half a second before you plunged under.

The world went quiet and blue.

Bubbles exploded around you, cool pressure pressing against your ears and chest. The current tugged at your limbs, gentle but insistent, pulling you deeper for a heartbeat before you kicked hard and broke the surface with a gasp, water streaming from your face and braids.

Aonung was already there, right beside you, his smirk so wide it was practically audible.

You coughed once, wiping water from your eyes, and glared at him through dripping lashes.

“Don’t,” you snapped before he could open his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it.”

He raised both hands in mock surrender, “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he lied, eyes dancing with pure mischief. “But if I were going to say something, it would probably be along the lines of… ‘Told you so.’” he whispered the last words.

You splashed him, hard, water arcing through the air and hitting him square in the chest.

He laughed, real, surprised laughter that echoed across the lagoon, bright and unguarded for once. “Okay, okay. Point taken.”

He swam closer, still grinning, and reached out to steady you with one hand on your arm, firm but not forceful. “You were doing fine until you decided to fight the ilu instead of moving with it. Loosen up. Trust it. It knows what it’s doing better than you do.”

You shook water from your braids, refusing to acknowledge how close he was or how his hand felt warm against your skin even in the cool water. “I don’t need to trust anything that lives in this place.”

Aonung’s grin softened just a fraction, eyes flicking to the ilu waiting patiently a few feet away. “Then you’ll keep falling off. And I’ll keep watching. Your choice, forest girl.”

You looked at the ilu, its pinkish scales still shimmering, head tilted, waiting. The bond hummed quietly between you, patient, steady, not judging.

You exhaled through your nose, stubbornness warring with the part of you that refused to fail in front of him.

“Fine,” you muttered. “One more try.”

Aonung’s smirk returned, but he nodded. “That’s the spirit. Now get back on. And this time, don’t fight it.”

You swam to the ilu, pulled yourself up again, more carefully this time. One leg swung over first, knee bending as you settled your weight.

You adjusted your hips, loosening them just enough to follow the natural curve of the ilu’s spine instead of fighting it. Your thighs pressed against its sides, not gripping too hard, just enough to feel secure.

Your hands rested lightly on the ridges along its neck, fingers splayed, feeling the subtle flex of muscle beneath the skin.

You exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping, refusing to look at Aonung even though you could feel his gaze on you, sharp, expectant, waiting for you to prove him right or wrong.

You leaned forward and the ilu responded instantly.

It surged ahead with smooth, powerful grace, the water parting around you in clean silver sheets. This time you didn’t fight the movement. You let your hips roll with the ilu’s rhythm, knees soft and flexible, hands resting light and steady on the ridges.

The current flowed with you, cool against your skin, tugging gently at your braids, filling your ears with the muffled shout of water and heartbeat.

The ilu dove and water closed over your head in a rush of blue and silver bubbles. The world muted, sound became a distant hum, pressure wrapped gently around your ears and chest.

Sunlight pierced through the surface in bright, shifting shafts, turning the water golden and alive. Schools of tiny fish scattered in glittering clouds as you passed, their scales flashing like coins in the light.

The current pulled at your limbs, but you moved with it, thighs relaxed, body aligned, kicking once in time with the ilu’s powerful tail strokes.

It felt… effortless.

The ilu leveled out, gliding through the clear water with smooth, rolling strokes. You could feel every flex of its muscles, every subtle shift as it navigated the gentle currents.

The bond hummed steadily between you, trust, joy, a quiet sense of belonging that made your chest ache in a way you didn’t want to name.

You held your breath with calm focus, counting heartbeats instead of seconds, lungs burning just enough to remind you you were alive.

You kicked once, lightly, urging the ilu upward.

It rose in a clean, graceful arc, breaking the surface with barely a splash. Water streamed from your face and braids in bright sheets, the sun hitting your skin like a warm hand. You gasped once, breathless, exhilarated, and laughed, short and surprised, the sound echoing across the lagoon.

You guided the ilu in a slow circle back toward the shallows, letting it glide smoothly, naturally. The water felt less like an enemy now, more like something you could move through, something that might even carry you if you let it.

You resurfaced fully, shaking water from your braids, chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. The ilu slowed beneath you, head turning slightly so one large eye could look at you, calm and pleased.

Aonung was right there, treading water a few feet away, arms folded, watching with an expression you couldn’t quite read. His smirk was still there, but it was softer now, almost impressed, though he’d die before admitting it.

You lifted your chin, refusing to let the small praise land too easily. Water dripped from your lashes, stinging your eyes, but you didn’t blink. “I told you I could manage.”

He snorted, the sound soft, almost amused. “You managed not to drown. Big difference.” He tilted his head, studying the way you sat, hips looser now, hands resting light on the ilu’s neck, body finally moving with the creature instead of against it. “You did alright. For a first try.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself. “High praise from fish lips.”

Aonung’s grin flashed, quick, sharp, genuine for half a second before he reined it back in. “Future Olo’eyktan, actually. Get it right.”

You huffed a small laugh, the sound surprising even you. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[k8lan06]

Ooooouu you ATE that 🥹 so peak thank you for tagging me 🫶🫰

[riverlikethelake]

Like the wind in your grasp

Synopsis, Spider wasn’t the first human born on Pandora, but he was the first to grow up on it. You had Neytiri’s heart long before Jake came along, and you’d have both of theirs long after. The problem is, humans weren’t meant for Pandora. Even so, Eywa saw you, and it seems like she accepted you. Maybe that's why, even after being without you for so long, they saw you again.

WC: 10.5k (oh wow)

inspired by @jsooly taken in by the sullys series!

A/N: I wrote this quite literally at 5 am, and it's drastically different from my usual writing style, but I like it! Very bittersweet! and written with the assumption that whoever is reading this knows about Sylwanin and her lore.

You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.

After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora

So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone. 

Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?

Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.

Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.

You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker. 

Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.

She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up. 

Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.

Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.

“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.

You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in. 

Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching. 

A new brain to fill, maybe.

So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.

It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.

Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.

It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote. 

They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid. 

But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.

You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on. 

He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably. 

At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar. 

They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.

Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly. 

You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.

Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.

With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up. 

You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.

They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.

Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you. 

“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.

“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”

From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.

Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on. 

Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace. 

Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.

Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.

“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them. 

In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought. 

Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you. 

Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it. 

You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly. 

Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast. 

You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it. 

Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.

She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world. 

She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad. 

Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was. 

At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request. 

But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.

Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.

You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age. 

Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid. 

Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.

You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.

Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day. 

Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.

You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.

When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite. 

You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others. 

You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.

Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay. 

It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces. 

You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them. 

You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly. 

He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room. 

“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face. 

She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.

You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair. 

Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him. 

As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in. 

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him. 

It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy. 

You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life. 

He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.

“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you

So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.

To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved. 

The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.

It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty. 

And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep. 

He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining. 

Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg. 

Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for. 

If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.

It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri. 

Neytiri. Your Neytiri.

You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin! 

Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to. 

Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.

Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…

Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.

Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.

It was you.

He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.

He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.

So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of. 

It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go. 

Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?

But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified. 

He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.

You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine. 

But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.

You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them. 

Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.

You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.

Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal. 

You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.

So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.

The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines. 

They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you. 

You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you. 

Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach. 

You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.

She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention. 

An Atokirina.

It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin. 

Mo’at’s eyes widened. 

“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.

They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.

Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.

Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face. 

You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.

And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death. 

The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.

Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group. 

With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.

You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay. 

“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd. 

Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water. 

You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw.  You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.

Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.

They didn’t know what to do. 

You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away. 

Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.

They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do? 

Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips. 

“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged

“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”

You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face. 

Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done. 

You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.

The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically. 

You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.

Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.

So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach. 

Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.

The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.

Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.

They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.

It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.

Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words. 

She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could. 

Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?

One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky. 

She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree. 

She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.

An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air. 

The first breath.

Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as. 

A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.

Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.

She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.

“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her. 

Words exchanged between them in complete silence. 

He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui. 

The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.

“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.

Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”

He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned. 

There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle. 

“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”

Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand. 

Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.

“Syuli”

After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya. 

He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.

Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.

By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death. 

It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died. 

The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.

“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care. 

Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved. 

Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri. 

She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again. 

Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in. 

A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum 

Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn

a’atanur oe mameyam 

meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom

A child, Y/n, i knew

showed to me, a blessing

a light I held in my arms

I hold you, even when gone

It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.

This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.

So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted. 

But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies. 

Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.

Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them. 

Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.

But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.

That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat. 

He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.

“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”

Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke. 

“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.

They had to protect their children. 

The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.

They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.

Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.

As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.

Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.

She resembled you. 

He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you. 

She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something. 

Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.

She saw it too.

Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family. 

His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.

Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life. 

She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.

Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.

She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.

She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”

“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan. 

“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.

“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying. 

Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded. 

“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life. 

Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family. 

“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.

“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister. 

You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces. 

They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.

Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.

It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago. 

You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children. 

Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems. 

It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.

You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.

How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand. 

She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.

It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you. 

You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.

She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it. 

She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree. 

She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had. 

She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother. 

But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again. 

It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.

They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister. 

Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.

Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived. 

Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.

And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew. 

By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of. 

Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members. 

You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life. 

You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.

The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins. 

You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.

You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin. 

She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.

Grace.

You spoke her name before Kiri told you.

An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.

“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.

You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved. 

They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it. 

They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you. 

You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood. 

But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief. 

“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.

“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.

Back to her.

That girl.

She haunted them. 

A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago. 

They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost. 

But she was back. 

They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure. 

Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.

They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed. 

But she wasn’t.

She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living. 

They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.

They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.

It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.

You couldn’t be. 

But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her. 

“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief. 

“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it. 

He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face. 

“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways. 

“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”

Their eyes met. 

At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again. 

All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind. 

It almost hurt more than the grief itself. 

They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers. 

It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.

Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.

You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.

He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-

“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.

“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”

Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.” 

Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him. 

“No, we simply see how great you are.”

Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter. 

Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.

You weren’t alone.

You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly. 

You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place. 

Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.

The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live. 

It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved. 

Just not by them. 

And that was ok. 

They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good. 

You’d found what you needed, even if it wasn’t with them. 

[k8lan06]

Great now I'm crying in the club.

[k8lan06]

Spoilers(?) below

I just wanted to say that someone asked if the resistance is dead and I said Priya, Alex and Anqa are still alive even tho I didn't even know myself because I hadn't gotten that far ahead. Basically I felt bad that I might've spread misinformation at the time.

[k8lan06]

Nor come on man I love u but PLEASE shut the fvck up 🙏😓

[k8lan06]

Jesus this game somehow got so much sadder and depressing, stay safe y'all ❤️

[bluealienobsesser]

Putting a name to the face

Also, WHAT THE HELL DID SO'LEK DO TO MAKE WUKULA SO MAD💀

[k8lan06]

Yea we're so cooked 😭🙏

[voxslays]

Vincent x reader wife Headconcons sfw and NSFW please?

HOME SWEET HOME — VINCENT X READER

TW: 1950’s housewife stereotypes, fem!reader but could be read as gn!reader too (maybe), established marriage, AFAB!reader, mentions of spousal abuse (the 1950’s kind), nsfw below the cut.

SFW

Vincent is a man of the fifties, yet, he doesn’t seem to fit into many of the social standards of the time.

First of all, his gorgeous eyes; one blue, and one green. Although you don’t admit it, that was probably what first made you fall in love with the man—that and his gorgeous, dorky smile.

Secondly, he doesn’t hate his spouse.

Vincent constantly hears the producers, managers, and many of his fellow male anchors constantly bitching and complaining about their ‘controlling and bitchy’ wives.

Yet, he’s never once done that.

Nor would he ever hurt you, which he’s almost positive some of the men in his studio do on the regular.

Whenever he comes home to you though, he’s met with the sweet aroma of your delicious cooking, which makes him love you even more. Food is the key to a man’s heart, indeed.

Vincent often spends his time with you watching soap opera’s (or marine life documentaries), going to the classic drive-in-movies, and dancing the jitterbug and jive with you at parties (and clubs??).

I personally believe Vincent would be a great dancer and often encourage you to causally dance with him throughout the house.

Speaking of houses; Vincent specifically picks the classic 1950’s starter home with a nice green lawn and white picket fence. Perfect for raising a family when the time comes.

And trust me, he will make that time come.

NSFW

This man 100% has a domestic kink.

Seeing you fold his laundry while he looks over the script for his late night talk show or for the daily news (when he was still an anchor), or cooking him a warm meal when he steps through the door after a long day of work—it makes him really hard.

Vincent just has to bend you over the counter and have his way with you. The way your pretty pink clit and matching mounds perk up as his giant member nearly pierced through your insides. It’s not his fault he’s so girthy, is it?

Plus, the way those pretty little tears stream down your face from the overstimulation, makes him want to pound you even harder.

I also feel like Vincent would have a breeding kink?

He seems the type to want a family, especially the idealized kind with the white picket fences, golden retriever, and two to three little children running around—and he thinks you would just look good pregnant.

Regardless if you can carry children or not, this man is the type to convince himself to attempt to ‘breed’ you every time the two of you are in bed.

And if that doesn’t work out, there’s always adoption, right?

[k8lan06]

Love this 😓

[vrystalius]

Now that I posted something for Vincent I gotta post something for Vox too. But Vincent is also playing a part here soooi

(angel!gn!reader, Vox is smitten, angst)

Even after 80 years of being miserable in this hellhole and clawing himself up to the top of one of the most powerful sinners in hell, Vox still hasn’t been able to forget the last part about him that he kept from his human years: memories of you.

Vox never found you down here, which completely tracks. You don’t deserve to be down here with these animals, cannibals and perverted sons of bitches— heaven is the best place for a soul like you, he knew that, even in life.

You’re not always at the forefront of his mind, obviously. He is a busy man, managing Voxtek, being an overlord, holding a grudge against a man that shall not be named and another hundred stupid things that require his attention every day. Val keeps his mind (and body) occupied during off-hours and when Vox is not doing all that, he’s busy playing and taking care of Shok.wav.

Frankly, he never gets a minute to dwell on his human life. There is nothing to dwell on anyway; he died in a stupid way and left the only real and good thing in his life behind to deal with his mess.

And you truly were the only real thing he loved and cherished with all he had. The overwhelming warmth spreading through his whole body when you cuddled up against him after him coming home from a late night and sneaking into bed, the way Vincent had go suppress the boyish grin threatening to take over his face when watching you do even the most mundane things.

He knew you were his soulmate. would’ve probably killed many men and women if you just asked for it. Vincent was so terribly smitten, it was borderline embarrassing looking back as Vox, the newly invented him.

So, even though he has access to his memories about you, Vox chooses not to. Val grew tired after listening to another ranting session where he went on and on about that one time you made the effort to pack him a shark-themed lunchbox to his work.

“You know, you’re not being very sexy when you’re talking about that again.” Val gestured down to his naked body, posing effortlessly against the many pillows on Vox’s bed. “I’m literally naked right now. On your bed.”

Vox’s shoulders visibly slumped. He doesn’t want to think about you anymore. You were a thing he used to have when human and now he doesn’t. You slipped out from between his fingers and away, somewhere up in heaven stuffing your face with cotton candy or whatever the fuck angels do all day. “Right. Just give me a sec, Val.”

☀︎

You were as heavenly as the day he last saw you.

Vox just finished his grand performance in front of almost all the sinners of the pride ring, cables lifting his body into the air while screens of screens gather around his body to mimic the appearance of that one seraphim that just tried to threaten him. He just declared a war against heaven, yet his eyes and all of his focused was set on you.

Somehow you managed to climb the ranks of the angels as fast as he climbed the ranks of hell, your position being high enough to actually stand, or rather fly, beside the highest ranking angels. Of course you did, you were always this intelligent. Vox almost wanted to chuckle out loud at that.

You were staring at him with horror, not being able to comprehend what happened to the Vincent you thought to know during your time on earth. Who is this man who has the same voice as your husband, same self-assured smirk he had while on live TV, same body language as your Vincent. It couldn’t be him, could it?

“Vincent?” You only managed to press one word out of your mouth at the sight of him or whatever is rest of him that you’re looking at.

Vox couldn’t let his image as great leader of the sinners go now, even if he has to fight the urge to grip you by the ankle and drag you down to hell with him just to have you for one last day with all the might and restraint he could muster.

Just one more day to have you in his arms again, bawl like a baby into your shoulder, stare at your face for hours so he could always recall it in his mind and weave fantasies that lure him to sleep at night. To hear your voice and record it on his servers just to play it again and again until he either goes insane or short-circuits. To have those fingers even trace the frame of his head would probably make Vox shake, fold and break down.

Hell, Vox’ll take it if you’ll just give him an hour of time to talk, to apologise for not being up there with you, for not being what you deserved or just to finish talking his piece and leaving you be. You probably despise him anyway.

Up there. Fuck, Vox needs to be up there in heaven. Not just to have power and godhood shoved up his ass but to have you again, for all eternity. You can be together again and nothing will keep you apart anymore or ever again.

☀︎

Vox: “I think… I miss my wife/husband”

Velvette: “We know.”

Val: “We know.”

[k8lan06]

Hey this is really good but it gets blurry towards the end

[biteashz]

🩵 A Proposal 🩵

Vox x Reader one-shot

CW: None!

Credit to @mawsjaws for the idea

You are an overlord in Hell. Having been one for centuries, you mainly focus in physical communitications; like letters! You're quite well known for being mostly harmless, mostly. Despite your general distain for violance, there have been a few moments in your time where you've truly had to defend yourself; after that, nobody really bothered you. Around the mid 70s, you noticed a sinner whom started to gain your attetnion. His whole 'thing' being more modern technology, rivalling your entire purpose. Eventually, you happend to bump into eachother. Most people expected there to be a large altercation, for you to crush him into nothing but dust in the ground. So, best believe the sinners of hell were suprised to see the two of you get along quite well– the two of you even go out for drinks quite often, just like you were currently!

"You humor me, Vincent"

You chuckle as you sip your wine, turning your face to look at his significantly more television shaped one. He's smiling almost shyly, his eyes not looking up to meet yours as his finger (claw?) drags across the rim of his cup.

"You humor yourself by keeping me around."

He looks up at you, his face a sort of embarased flush, taking a large gulp of his own drink.

"I have.. a proposal for you."

You smile and nod; listening as he stands and clears his thoat.

"You know, modern technology started with physical communication!"

He clears his throat.

"Let me get to the point. We've been close for a while now. People know us, love us! And with newer overlords popping up up so often, I think it's in your interest that with your reputation, and strength and my influence; we would be an unstoppable pair! I think we could rule hell, together!"

He sits back down and puts his hand beside yours, which lay flat on the bar, your pinkies just barely touching.

"As... partners."

He smiles, you do in return, placing your hand atop his. You look down at your hands than back up, the embarrassed flush on his face evolved to something more, something dangerously similar to a more romantic flush.

"I would be delighed to. Better partners than enemys, right?"

He nods frantically.

"Right!"

He smiles bright, you bring your hand slightly tighter around his, your fingers interlocking. He smiles wider and repeates to himself quitely.

"Partners.."

[lovetrouble123]

Sharks In Love

Synopsis: In which Y/N, an upcoming actress, accepts a date to the aquarium…but it turns into her date geeking out about sharks

TW: n/a

A/N: I randomly got this idea in the shower…had to write it😈

Masterlist

New York City had a bad habit of swallowing people whole. Not in a literal sense, although rush hour seemed to be the equivalent to it. But, if being swallowed meant that Y/N could achieve her dreams of becoming a big time actress, then she’d endure being swallowed.

Her parents had raised their sweet little girl to go to church, marry a wealthy man, have his kids and stay home to take care of the house and kids. But she never dreamt of that lifestyle.

She didn’t want to be controlled.

So, she packed her bags and moved to New York City where she tried to pursue acting, where she met Channel 6’s favorite weatherman—Vincent Whittman.

A man who had, somehow, become her favorite part of New York.

•••

The aquarium was cool and dim, illuminated by glass tunnels that were full of different types of sea life. The water hummed through the tanks, and while most couples stayed close together, whispering romantic nonsense…Y/N’s date was non stop rambling about every shark he came across.

“And this one, is a sand tiger fish,” Vincent said, index finger pressed against the glass as he enthusiastically went on about the shark that was swimming through the tank. “People think they’re dangerous because of all their teeth, but what’s so cool, is that they’re constantly regrowing new ones! They’ll loose their teeth and grow new ones back in no time! Isn’t that fascinating?”

Vincent’s voice was low but confident in a way that Y/N found it painfully charming. She couldn’t deny that seeing a boyish side of Vincent was adorable considering she often saw how he acted at the studio—a little stoic, demanding, all while trying to help the network.

“Fascinatin’.” Y/N agreed with a smile, “I didn’t know you were so into sharks, Vincent.”

His posture straightened a bit as he pulled his hand away from the glass, pushing up his thick rimmed glasses as he looked at Y/N. “Well, I mean I-I’m not so into sharks. It’s more like I just…appreciate them.”

“Mhm. I can tell.”

“They’re just misunderstood creatures.” He said, as he looked back at the shark, hand pressed against the glass now. “Everyone thinks they’re dangerous, but they don’t really wanna hurt anyone. They just survive.”

Y/N found herself watching him instead of the shark swimming around in the tank. She watched the blue lights ripple over his profile, his focused expression, and the way he softened when he finally got to talk about something he liked that wasn’t weather related.

“You talk like you relate to ‘em,” Y/N gently said.

Vincent paused, pulling back from the glass and looking at Y/N. “Maybe I do. But come on, let’s go deeper…I’m sure I’m boring you with my chatter about sharks.”

He turned, and instead of leading Y/N by locking their elbows like how he had earlier, he walked ahead almost like he was desperate to escape the embarrassment that dared to follow him.

“Vincent!” Y/N called out, but he didn’t stop walking ahead, causing Y/N to jog up beside him. “Vincent, are you embarrassed?”

“What?” He blinked and looked at Y/N, “of course not!”

“Really?” She asked, “because you looked pretty embarrassed to me. But don’t worry, I find your insane ramblings about sharks to be adorable.”

“Adorable..?” Vincent slowly said, as if testing the word on his tongue, even though his heart felt like it was going to explode any moment now.

“Mhm.” She nodded, “this is the first date I’ve been on that hasn’t included talkin’ about marriage, or how good of a housewife I’d be.” She smiled, “if you want to keep talkin’ about sharks all day…be my guest.”

“Nobody should be talking about you like that.” Vincent quickly said. “You deserve so much more than that…you shouldn’t be reduced to some man’s ‘housewife fantasy.’”

Y/N shrugged, but there was a flicker of hurt behind her eyes. “Back home, that was the only future folks would say a woman was good for.”

“Well, they’re wrong.”

Y/N looked up at him with a blink, but she felt her cheeks warm at his statement. It wasn’t the first time a man had said those words to her, but it was the first time she felt taken aback and appreciative.

“I-I mean, you’re brilliant, ambitious, a-and you’re way more talented than all those women who dominate the screens! Anyone would be lucky to hear you talk, and—!” Vincent stopped talking and awkwardly cleared his throat, “I-I mean…uh, yeah, the sharks are, uh…”

Y/N laughed. “You really are nervous, huh?”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You sure?”

Vincent opened his mouth, shut it and looked down at his shoes before softly replying. “Okay…I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I want this to go well.”

Y/N snorted, waving a hand around. “Vincent, it’s just the aquarium—.”

“But I want this to go well,” he looked up, cheeks flushed and his heterochromia eyes practically glowing under the lighting, “for you.”

Before Y/N had a chance to reply, a shadow appeared overhead causing the two to look up. Above them, a hammerhead shark casually swam by, casting ripples across their faces as the water moved.

As the shark swam off, Vincent looked at Y/N. “I really like spending time with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught as she looked at him. “I like spending time with you too, Vincent. I love to hear you talk.”

“You do?” He asked in shock, almost like he was worried that he had misheard her.

Y/N nodded. “Yes. If you wanted to tell me every shark fact you know, all night long, I’d let you.”

Vincent stared at her as if she had said the impossible. For a moment, he couldn’t hide the aw that flashed across his face, or the soft, shaky breath he let out, or the way his smile twitched. “No one’s ever said that they’d listen to me. I mean…most people listen to the weatherman but—.”

“You’re not some weatherman, Vincent.” Y/N admitted, “especially while out of work. Today, right now, on this date—you’re just Vincent Whittman, the man who asked me on a cute date to the aquarium.”

Vincent’s lips parted—not with words to rebuttal what she said, nor anxious words to downplay everything—but something fragile that he rarely showed other people. “Just Vincent Whittman…that sounds nicer than it should.”

Y/N smiled up at him, her expression warm and devastatingly sincere. “Good, because I like just Vincent Whittman.”

For a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.

The tunnel around them shimmered with drifting blues and greens, reflections rippling across the glass, across the water, across the small space between their bodies.

Families passed behind them, couples murmured to each other in soft, romantic tones, but none of it reached Vincent…not when Y/N was looking at him like he was something worth noticing.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d say yes,” Vincent replied. “To this date I mean…I figured you’d busy with something more important than some silly—.”

Y/N softly laughed. “Vincent, I said yes because I wanted to.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did. You make me feel seen in a way that I’ve never been seen before,” she said.

“I just try to be honest.”

“You are.” She bumped him lightly with her elbow. “And it’s nice.”

For a moment, they simply stood there, surrounded by blue light and slow moving silhouettes drifting overhead, neither speaking, neither needing to.

The air buzzed softly with the hum of filters and distant pumps, but between them, it was gentle.

[goldenthena]

❝why don't you want me? ❞

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — vox × fem!overlord!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — for decades, he has been watching you, now closer than ever to his goal, all he wanted was for you to join him [them], but will you reject him again? – !requested by anon!

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — no smut, there isn't much if anything even!

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — I hope you like it anon! I honestly didn't know where to go, so I left an open ending. don't be shy to give feedback! Follow @sstanhoe-updates to get a notification every time I post a new fic!

“Where exactly are you going?” Velvette questioned, resting her hand on her hip as she watched Vox leave their tower.

He stopped in his tracks, “nowhere important,” he told her carefully. She raised an eyebrow, she knew exactly where he was going, “are you going to stalk your little obsession again?”

Vox scoffed, “I’m not stalking nor obsessing Velvette,” a static hum carrying out her name. He wasn’t obsessed with you, all he wanted was to convince you to join him– them.

He turned towards his partner, giving her a wide grin. “How often has she rejected you?” she asked, strutting over to him with a smirk. Vox screen glitched for a split second, then laughed her question of, “she didn’t! She just needs a little more persuasion,” he shrugged as if it was obvious.

Velvette squinted her eyes, “sure, babe,” nudging his shoulder with her nail, “don’t let her answer ruin the rest of your year.” Swiftly she turned around, her long hair hitting Vox face, “I’m telling Val!” she called after.

Growling, Vox teleported himself through the CCTV cameras to your domain.

He adjusted his suit, blasted a charming grin, and stepped inside your building. Instantly, a succubus greeted him, telling him how they didn’t know he was coming. Ignoring them, he continued walking and knocking on your office door.

You rolled your eyes, already aware who’d be disturbing your piece. “Yes, Vox?” you asked, letting him know to come in, “my favourite overlord!” he greeted you, stalking like he belonged there.

With a sigh you leaned back against your chair. Vox has been a constant for the last few months, coming in and telling you about some new plan that would involve you to join him – the Vee's.

Every time you declined his offer, it’s not like they sounded bad but the three of them screamed drama, especially Vox.

“Our followers are increasing by every minute, you know after our little show...imagine how much more power you could be...,” Vox purred, sitting down in the chair opposite from you.

You looked unimpressed, it was like a deja-vu every time he came. “Oh, yeah? How lovely,” you muttered, signing a few papers. Sometimes, you wondered why he was so obsessed with you in the first place. “Did you see it?” he followed up.

“Mhm, I did quite the demonstration,” you answered, stacking the papers together.

“Shall I tell you the same as last time?” you questioned, finally looking at him while leaning forward and interviewing your own fingers. “Baby, you have to see the bigger picture!” he exclaimed, standing up to round your desk in slow steps.

“What picture exactly?” you wondered, keeping your eyes straight as he came up behind you. Vox laid his hand on your shoulders as holograms surfaced opposite of you.

They showed pictures of Vox and you, clearly edited. He was being worshipped with you by his side, laughing happily in his embrace.

Behind you was heaven, some angels crying, and Velvette as well as Valentino clapping their hands close by. Through a second glance, you noticed a small glint on your ring finger.

“Is that a wedding ring?” you asked lowly, glancing up at him. “What? No, of course, not,” he bluffed, shrugging his shoulders, “but it could be your future. On top of hill, ruling heaven-,” “by your side, yes. Vox you’ve been telling me this for months and you’re still trying, why exactly?”

Vox teal blue claws dug into your flesh, slowly kneading. Leaning his face down to reach your ear, “because together we’re unstoppable,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

You ignored the feeling, “nothing insures me that you won’t use me for your own gain.” For Vox it may sound like he was finally getting you near a deal, but for you? It was simply to kill time, Vox was too untrustworthy.

“But there is, a small deal...you help me and I won’t betray you,” he proposed with a smirk, stroking your arms – oh, he was touchier than usual.

He was hot – nor questions asked, however he was dangerous and as much influence as you had, you didn’t want to be screwed over by a good fuck.

“Sounds like you would if I made no deal,” you stated, turning to look him directly into the eye. Watching him closely to see if there was any switch up in his expression. “I would never betray you, I’m just giving you safety. Be honest, wouldn’t like to rule with me?” his eyebrows slightly rose, almost hopeful.

“What about your circus?” You pondered, referring to Velvette and Valentino. Vox laughed as if you made a joke, “they would he happy too! Velvette already has clothes for you, and Val is, well Val – he could draw you!” it was a lie, Vel didn’t have any clothes for you.

Yes, she wanted your power but found Vox antics pathetic while Valentino cracked sexual jokes and only drew you on Vox behalf.

He moved your chair further away from the table, causing you to grip the armrests. “If a deal is what you want, you have it,” his voice deep and filled a hint of desperation that he tried to hide.

“You’re giving deals away to easily,” you argued, tilting your head forward as he came to kneel in front you. It was truly a sight for sore eyes. The powerful tech overlord on his knees because he wants you to join him, it made you smirk.

Vox wanted to defend himself, prove you wrong but before uttering a word, he decided against it. Maybe he needed to play differently, slowly he rested his palm against your cheek, making your skin heat up, “careful,” you whispered before Vox sealed his lips with yours.

Taken aback you stilled for a second, before returning the kiss. Lips gliding over each other as he deepened the kiss. His tongue licked along your lower lip, asking you to open your mouth so gently you didn’t even know he could. Without much hesitation, you let him in, swallowing his tongue with your own.

“You can rule with me – us,” he said breathlessly once he pulled away for air. You chuckled, he had to do a lot more than kiss you in order to you to even consider it, “no.”

don't be shy to give feedback! Follow @sstanhoe-updates to get a notification every time I post a new fic!

[9kaytor7-deactivated20260322]

𐔌՞. in another life? ⋮ vox .՞𐦯

"What do you think we were in another life?" Your voice floats softly across the dim glow of your bedroom. Vincent’s mismatched eyes flicker with light, a giggle escaping him.

"I was definitely a tiger shark—wait no, a spinner—wait, but imagine a hammerhead shark!" He launches into a rapid-fire rant, flailing his hands, and you just watch him, eyes softened and affectionate. Finally, you press a quick kiss to his lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. His smile stretches wide.

"What about you, love?"

"Hmm… a thresher shark," you murmur, remembering a detail he once mentioned. "They’re cool… hunt with shockwaves of their tails."

"What shark is that one based off of? Not that I really care." Valentino, leaning lazily against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his fingers, grumbles. Watching Vox tinker with the new, and biggest, metal monstrosity of a fish project.

Vox stills for a moment, a smirk dangerously close to a genuine smile.

"Thresher. A thresher shark,"

[k8lan06]

Awe:( I frickign love bittersweet fics like this 🥹

[noeluxusno1fan]

Could you do a platonic gen z overlord reader for Hazbin, going over their relationships with the other overlords and maybe some of the shenanigans they've gotten into? They like to get under people's skin if they don't like them, but occasionally they'll actually respect one of the other overlords like Zestiel. Just depends on what kind of person they're interacting with, they'd probably hate the Vees so they'd bully them constantly lmao. If they don't have a reason to bother someone though, they won't so it's not like they're constantly picking on all of them.

Sorry if this is a bit vague. Thanks for your time!

Gen-Z overlord reader one-shot

A/n: Hope you like it💛💛💛. Anyways requests are open. Rules here.

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

The meeting of the Overlords had barely started and you were already regretting waking up this morning. The room was full of ancient demons, all powerful, terrifying, and, honestly, kind of dramatic. And there you were: the youngest Overlord in Hell, the one who climbed the ladder faster than anyone thanks to the same thing that killed you.

Social media.

Even in Hell, your account was blowing up. You had a whole fanbase made of sinners who thought your chaotic videos were “relatable” and “valid.” If they knew you scammed your fans with a fake digital coin when you were alive? Some did. They still followed. Clout was clout.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, looking perfectly bored as Zestial spoke. He always got the floor first because he was old, powerful, and, something you actually respected, totally uninterested in petty beef. You never disrespected him. In fact, you kind of liked him. He reminded you of that one teacher who didn’t treat you like an idiot.

And then Velvette arrived.

She didn’t walk in. She exploded into the room like a glitter bomb that hated everyone.

-Ugh, did we really need a reunion today?- she snapped, eyes rolling so hard they practically spun. -Half of you smell like you died before deodorant was invented.-

A few Overlords glared. Someone hissed. Someone else tried to pretend they were too important to care.

You sat up straight, jaw tightening.

Velvette didn’t bother to look at you. -And you, little social-media-wannabe- she sneered, -how does it feel copying my whole aesthetic?-

You smiled sweetly. -I don’t know, Velvette. How does it feel being threatened by someone ten thousand followers ahead? Must be rough-

The older Overlords tried not to laugh. Some failed.

She glared daggers. -You’re only relevant because of teens with brain rot-

-And you’re only relevant because Vox pays bots to boost your numbers- you shot back. -We all have our things-

Vox’s eye flickered like a glitch about to bite someone. Valentino choked on a laugh. You turned just enough to smile at him with that “try me” look. He shut up real quick.

You didn’t like the Vees. Any of them. Vox thought he was superior because he had a built-in screen. Valentino was a walking red flag wrapped in toxic masculinity and cheap cologne. Velvette was… Velvette.

So you bullied them. Professionally. Elegantly. Consistently.

Last week you hacked Vox’s broadcast to replace his face with a PowerPoint presentation titled “Why You Should Touch Grass.” He was furious for days.

Two days ago you convinced Valentino that everyone could see his search history scrolling above his head like a halo. He panicked and stayed home.

Yesterday you greeted Velvette by calling her “Grandma Glitter.” She threatened to strangle you with her purse strap.

But today? Today was different.

Today she was insulting Zestial.

You slammed your hands on the table. -Hey. Don’t talk to him like that-

Velvette blinked, surprised you’d stepped in. Zestial looked at you with one raised brow, like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned.

-You’re all so sensitive- Velvette scoffed.

-I’m not sensitive- you said. -I just have a thing called manners. You should Google it. Oh wait—Vox probably blocked the word.-

A couple Overlords snorted.

-And besides- you added, -Zestial actually respects others. You? You treat people like props.-

Velvette stepped forward, lip curled like she was about to start something. You stepped forward too, phone already out.

-One more step and I’m livestreaming this- you warned.

She froze.

You smirked. -Thought so-

She stormed to her seat, muttering curses under her breath. Vox glitched angrily. Valentino sulked. And you leaned back again like nothing happened.

Zestial cleared his throat and continued the meeting, but you noticed the slight nod he gave you. Respect earned. Not from everyone, of course. Some Overlords still didn’t know what to make of you. Some thought you were annoying. Some thought you were harmless.

But they all learned one thing today:

You didn’t pick on people just to pick on them.

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •