angel in the snow

𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠 • 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 • 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑦

[kittyycrisis]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑

⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡

𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑡. 𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒. 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. ⋆˙⟡ ✩‧₊˚ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 🐇 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ✩‧₊˚

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

#𝑘𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝑦𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠༉‧₊˚.

#𝑘𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝑦𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠༉‧₊˚.

#𝑘𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝑦𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠༉‧₊˚.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[kittyycrisis]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[blackcat-9696]

Masterlist: A Star To Follow

Summary: Dex finds her in a crowded club, beautiful and shining like a star. Even when she disappears, he doesn’t let go. He follows every trace she leaves behind, determined to have her, whether she wants it or not.

Characters: Benjamin Poindexter "Dex" x Ballerina Original Female Character

Chapter 1: A Blue Dance

Chapter 2: A One Night Stand

Chapter 3: Mania State

Chapter 4: A Swan in Bloodlight

Chapter 5: Catching Starlight

Chapter 6: A Beautiful Trap

Chapter 7: A Church for Sinners

Chapter 8: Blade on My Tongue

Chapter 9: Devour Me Whole

Chapter 10: The Ghost of You

Chapter 11: Hades and Persephone

Chapter 12: Domestic Creature

⛔Do not copy my work, translate or use AI with it and claim it as your own.⛔

Author notes: To be continued.

[annaevermore]

She did it — B.P.

Paring: Benjamin Poindexter x fem!reader

Summary: When Dex receives a call from you, he expects the worst, only to remain presently surprised. (0.7k)

Tags/warnings: suggestive, mentions of violence, domestic abuse (side character), kidnapping, blood, and murder, dex is so down bad, horny freak #1 and horny freak #2 fr (pls get the reference), kinda abrupt ending

A/N: English is not my first language and this was not proofread. Enjoy!

masterlist

"Dex, it's me, I- I need your help with... something."

That's all you said to him before ending the phone call.

You weren't calling from your phone — the caller ID being "unknown" — and the tracker on your actual phone told him you had left it at your apartment.

Still, the urgency in your tone activated something primal in him, making Dex drop everything he was doing to start looking for you.

The tracker he had previously placed on your car told him you were in the outskirts of New York, so naturally that's where he went.

When he arrived, he found your car almost immediately, being that it was the only vehicle in sight. You, though, were nowhere to be found.

He started panicking, still thinking about how urgent your request sounded, and the sight of what looked like an abandoned warehouse in the distance did nothing to calm his nerves.

Were you in danger? Did someone kidnap you?

It didn't make any sense.

Why would your car be there if you were abducted.

Dex got closer to the vehicle — a sense of dread dawning upon him — and tried to open the trunk. It wasn't locked.

Not only that, but there was blood inside.

A cold shiver ran though his whole body, as he started walking in the direction of the warehouse, already playing the worst case scenarios in his head.

Someone must have found out about your relationship and decided to use it against him.

That must be it.

So, naturally, he was surprised — to say the least — when he found you inside, alive and well. Most certainly not tied to a chair.

He was so relieved that he almost didn't notice the dead body at you feet.

A man, in his early to mid thirties, with a crushed skull.

The corpse was placed on a tarp, doing a pretty good job at containing the coagulated blood around his head. Still, there was some splattered on your face and hair.

"I need your help getting rid of him," you said, sounding almost... shy?

And in that moment Dex felt it. Not fear, nor disgust, nor anger. Nothing of that sort.

He was so, so incredibly turned on.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at you, and you only, completely ignoring the dead body between you.

"He's — well, was — my friend's husband, and an abusive piece of shit. She couldn't divorce him though, or he would leave her with nothing. I had to do something about it."

Dex's face was unreadable as he asked you what exactly you did about it.

"I waited for him to get off of work and followed him until he stopped at a bar. I waited for him until he got out. I hit him in the head with a crowbar, tied him up, and got him in my car — don't worry, there weren't any cameras nearby. I finished him here."

He could tell that you weren't telling him everything, for example how you got your knuckles bruised, but the things you did tell him were enough for him to feel a familiar heat course through his veins.

The image of you crushing a man's skull with a crowbar made his eyes dark with lust, almost making him forget that you were waiting for an answer.

"Are you gonna help me with this or not?"

That got him out of his haze, shifting his attention from your face to the motionless body.

"What's your plan?" he asked.

"I was thinking of dropping him in the lake. I saw some boats nearby and I'm pretty sure I can get at least one of them to start. We would have to be pretty careful about cleaning up afterwards. Same thing with this place."

You kept going about the logistics of getting rid of a body — talking about DNA traces and alibis — but all Dex could think about was how beautiful you looked with someone else's blood all over your pretty face.

A/N: This was the fic! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, even if it's criticism (as long as it's constructive). I love talking with you angels, so my dms and inbox are always open!

All the love, Anna ♡

[imsarawoods]

kissed by the sun, cold like the wind (benjamin poindexter)

delicacy was not something benjamin poindexter was used to. excuses were all that emerged from his hands, dead birds like the far-off smoke of the city that watched him decay every night.

no, benjamin poindexter wasn't cut out to hold a butterfly between his fingers. he watched them flutter over the flowers, lively and startled, without disturbing his reality. the things that needed protection turned out to be the most troublesome. what did a colorful ladybug contribute to the world? headaches, guilt for having to watch them die so early.

that's why, one day, when you told him the sun seemed to caress him and you ran a buttery-soft hand through his blond hair, he understood why he hated you. he looked at you, at his neighbor on the third floor of the building's rooftop, in silence… and he saw himself.

he hated you for making you love him. you didn't even know who he was, but he'd given you a beautiful, mistaken idea. you didn't even have to try very hard; love flowed from you so easily it made him want to throw up.

dow could you want to love something so rotten, twisted, and violent? what did that make you? a would-be savior or a martyr? that's what you wanted from him, wasn't it? recognition. to be able to tell the world that you were a person capable of showing mercy.

fuck you, he already hated himself for both of you. he didn't need your pity.

disappearing was the hardest part, ironically. you didn't know it yet, but prison had made him even more lonely. without looking for it, he searched for you in the corners of his memories, he always found his way back to you, to your kind eyes and your caramel mouth, ready to lie to him, spitting out the sweetest words, which he dismissed with a vague nod.

he stared out the cell window, and the bars weren't the only thing keeping him locked up; it was the ghost of your presence. where were you to hate you? would someone else take the place he'd left on the rooftop? someone uglier, more corrupt, more unforgivable to keep you on that moral pedestal?

fuck you, he was missing you.

when he escaped from prison, he didn't look for you. that would have healed a wound he kept scratching.

however, you found him one evening in his usual spot, on the empty rooftop, with the smell of potato chips in the air and wispy clouds in the sky.

you smiled when you saw him. yes, he could hear that smile even with his back to you. he could smell your honey shampoo from that distance and taste your citrus cologne on his tongue.

he swallowed words and didn't answer you. he kept himself busy carving a piece of wood with one of his favourite knives.

he heard you take the necessary steps to sit on the edge, next to him, and you remained in that silence as the afternoon bled into night.

"what you doing here?" you asked him after a while, because he seemed very... changed. his expression was sharper, perhaps because of that straight line he always wore on his lips, which accentuated his furrowed brow. fortunately, the scar on his cheek softened his expression. it continued to confirm that he was human, after all, and that words could hurt him as much as they hurt you.

from where did your empathy come from? he would wonder. you would have laughed if he had. questioning why someone was being considerate for another human being was like asking the earth why it kept nourishes the trees. but you would have killed to get him to talk to you beyond the reproaches he always spouted.

"fuck does it look like 'm doing?" he retorts, chucking a scrap of wood from hundreds of meters high

"if they find you here..." you barely said, more worried than intrigued by his presence, staring at his face and waiting for him to look back at you.

"then why are you here?" he answered you, examining the wooden anthropomorphic figure in his hands. "go away"

he had been waiting for months for that sunset to tell you directly and not only in his thoughts. he could ask you first, then he will yell at you to leave him, and his last resort being to grab your small arms and pull you away from him

but you didn't move, and you awakened an anger in him that he didn't knew he had.

why didn't you leave? you, the neighbor from the third floor.

when he looked into your face, the cuts on his darkened features didn't frighten you. he didn't see you flinch or grimace uncontrollably at your good samaritan principles. no, you turned benjamin poindexter into a wounded kitten and gritted your teeth to try and save him with what little you had to give him. even if it was little, even if it was never enough, even if he hated you for it because he saw in your help a projection of the rejection he inflicted upon himself.

"i really don't know" you whispered, half smiling half sighing, because that was your truth.

hate that i made you love me

Ariana Grande · hate that i made you love me · Song · 2026

[clawxmoon]

── .✦ jealousy ˎˊ˗

dex who gets jealous long before he realizes that's what he's feeling. at first he just notices little things - how often that person talks to you, how close they stand, how easily they make you laugh. the irritation builds quietly until one day he's staring holes through someone across the room and finally understands what's wrong.

dex who becomes frighteningly observant when he's jealous. he notices every glance sent your way, every lingering touch, every joke that gets a smile out of you. while everyone else is enjoying the conversation, he's cataloging every detail without even trying.

dex who keeps telling himself she's allowed to have friends. she's allowed to talk to people. stop it. stop it. stop it. because he knows his feelings aren't rational. he knows you haven't done anything wrong. the problem is that knowing doesn't make the feeling disappear.

dex who pretends not to care. he'll sit there with a perfectly neutral expression while internally spiraling over the fact that you're paying attention to somebody else. if you ask what's wrong, he'll immediately say, "nothing." meanwhile his jaw is tight enough to crack a tooth.

dex who starts hovering around you whenever someone is making him jealous. suddenly he's standing beside you. sitting next to you. finding reasons to insert himself into every conversation. not because he's trying to be subtle - because he genuinely doesn't realize how obvious he's being.

dex who absolutely hates how possessive jealousy makes him feel. he knows it isn't rational. he knows you aren't doing anything wrong. but logic has never been particularly effective at quieting his emotions once they start spiraling.

dex who immediately seeks reassurance afterward without directly asking for it. he'll casually ask, "you like talking to him?" or "you two seem close." as if he's simply making conversation instead of desperately trying to gauge where he stands.

dex who looks completely calm on the outside while panic builds underneath his skin. because losing you isn't just another breakup in his mind. losing you feels like losing the one thing that finally made life feel stable.

dex who melts the second you choose him. one hand in his. one kiss on his cheek. one simple reminder that he's the person you want. suddenly all the tension leaves his body at once.

dex who apologizes after heated arguments because he can see the guilt written all over your face. "I know you didn't do anything wrong." and he means it. he knows the problem isn't you.

dex who notices every tiny change in your mood and always assumes it's his fault. if you're quieter than usual, he's wondering what he did wrong. if you're distracted, he's wondering if you're losing interest. if you take longer to answer a text, he's already fighting off worst-case scenarios.

dex who genuinely cannot understand why you chose him sometimes. you'll be sitting in his lap, playing with his hair, telling him you love him, and he'll just stare at you with this sad look in his eyes because he cannot comprehend how someone like you stays.

dex who hears you say, "aw, were you jealous?" and immediately groans, burying his face in your shoulder while you laugh. but he never actually pulls away, because if you're holding him like that, he doesn't mind being teased nearly as much as he claims.

dex who tries to maintain his serious expression while you're deliberately being affectionate with him in front of whoever made him jealous. your head on his shoulder. your fingers intertwined with his. meanwhile you're enjoying the way he slowly relaxes.

dex who becomes adorably clingy afterward without realizing it. suddenly you're sitting in his lap. suddenly he's holding your hand. suddenly he's finding excuses to touch you every few seconds.

dex who becomes embarrassingly soft whenever you cup his face and remind him, "there's nobody else I want." because underneath all the jealousy is just a man who loves deeply and worries too much.

[thatcult]

I'll Be Good.

Got this inspiration from my own edit, unfortunate, but most fortunate for you guys. Here's the tiktok video referencing my inspo: HERE.

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Warnings: No explicit warnings, but squint for emotional manipulation/gaslighting.

The first text came in at 11:47 p.m., when the apartment had already gone quiet enough for every small sound to feel deliberate.

Are you ignoring me?

You stared at it longer than you should have. The screen lit your face in the dark, cold and bluish, catching against the edge of the coffee table where an untouched mug had gone stale hours ago. Outside, the city moved in uneven pulses: tires hissing over wet pavement, a siren bleeding through the distance, the low mechanical groan of pipes settling inside the walls. You had been trying not to look at your phone. That was the worst part. You had placed it facedown beside you with the childish belief that not seeing his name would make the pressure in your chest loosen. It had not. Another message arrived before the screen had time to dim.

Please, I just need to talk.

Your thumb hovered near the notification without touching it. Dex’s name looked almost ordinary there, as if it belonged to someone who knew how to leave things alone, someone capable of stepping back when silence asked him to. There had been a time when you mistook his intensity for attentiveness. He remembered the smallest things with frightening precision: the way you took your coffee, which side of the sidewalk you preferred, the exact pause before your smile when you were trying to decide whether to let him have it.

It had felt flattering once. Chosen. Like being seen. Now it felt like being watched. You turned the phone over again, but the room had already changed shape around it. The narrow hall seemed longer than before, the door at the end of it too still. You told yourself he was across the city. You told yourself he was sitting somewhere with his jaw clenched and his hands folded too tightly together, trying to look reasonable while something inside him came apart. You told yourself many things that would have been comforting if you believed any of them.

The next message came at 11:51.

I’ll be good.

The words made your stomach pull tight. Not because they were cruel. Cruelty would have been easier. Cruelty could be answered. Anger could be met with anger, blame with defense, a demand with the hard satisfaction of refusal. But Dex rarely sounded cruel when he wanted something badly enough. He sounded stripped down, almost soft, as though he had taken every sharp piece of himself and placed it carefully at your feet. As though he expected you to understand that the offering was also a warning.

You read it once. Then again. The three words blurred slightly at the edges before your phone went black. For a few minutes, nothing happened. You sat still on the couch, knees drawn close, listening to the refrigerator hum and the rain tapping lightly against the window. The silence stretched until it felt intentional. You were almost beginning to breathe normally when there was a sound from the hallway outside your apartment.

Not a knock. A footstep. Your whole body went rigid. The phone lit again in your hand.

Open the door.

You did not move. Even your breathing felt too loud. The apartment door stood at the end of the hall, locked, deadbolted, chained. You had checked it twice after getting home, once out of habit and once because habit had not been enough. Now, with his message glowing in your palm, every lock between you and the other side felt suddenly decorative.

Another sound came from the hall, closer this time; not loud enough to be threatening, but too deliberate to be nothing. A shift of weight. The faint brush of damp fabric against the wall. The quiet, controlled patience of someone standing exactly where he knew he should not be. Your body reacted before your mind could decide what to do, every muscle drawing tight as if the sound had reached through the door and touched the back of your neck. Slowly, you rose from the couch, the floorboards giving a soft, traitorous complaint beneath your bare feet, and you hated how carefully you moved. Hated that even now, even frightened, some part of you still understood Dex well enough to know that noise would matter, that silence would matter, that any small sign of panic might change the shape of whatever waited on the other side. The phone trembled once in your hand, not from another message, but from the force of your grip tightening around it until the edge bit into your palm. You stared down the narrow hall at the locked door, heart beating hard enough to make your ribs feel too small, and for one breathless second, you could not tell whether you were afraid he would come in or afraid he would leave before you saw him.

From the other side of the door, his voice came through, controlled and almost gentle. “I know you’re there.”

Your eyes shut for half a second, not long enough to steady you, only long enough for the truth of it to settle coldly behind your ribs. Of course he knew. Dex always knew. He knew things he should not have been able to know and remembered them with the unnerving precision of someone who did not understand where devotion ended and possession began. The pattern of your lights. The soft yellow glow in the living room when you were trying to stay awake. The blue-white flicker from the television when you could not sleep. The times you came home, the nights you were late, the mornings you left with your hair still damp because you had overslept. Whether you had worked past your shift, whether you had gone out after, whether you had forgotten to eat because stress turned hunger into something distant and inconvenient. He collected those details silently, almost reverently, the way other people collected apologies they were too proud to give, and then looked wounded when you found the weight of his attention unsettling.

For a moment, your hand hovered near the lock without touching it. The door between you felt impossibly thin, like he was not standing in the hall but just behind your shoulder, breathing in the same air. Your heartbeat had climbed into your throat, each pulse sharp and humiliating, because some part of you still remembered when being known by him had felt like being chosen. Now it made your skin prickle.

“You can’t be here,” you said, and your voice sounded quieter than you wanted, threaded with something too close to fear and something worse than fear, something that knew exactly why he had come.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice had dropped around the words, quiet enough that you had to hold still to catch them, yet not weak.

That made you laugh once, quietly, without humor. The sound seemed to surprise both of you. On the other side of the door, he went still; you could feel it, somehow, the way his attention sharpened through wood and metal.

“You could have gone home,” you said, your voice low and controlled only because you were forcing it to be. “You could have called someone else. You could have done literally anything except show up outside my apartment in the middle of the night.” The anger was there, but it sounded bruised at the edges, thinner than you wanted. Your throat tightened around the last words, betraying how badly he had shaken you, and you hated that he could probably hear it through the door.

“I tried.”

“No, Dex. You texted me four times and then came here.”

“I waited.”

The simplicity of it unsettled you more than if he had shouted. You pictured him standing in the hallway with rain still in his hair, shoulders squared beneath his jacket, face composed by force rather than calm. Dex had a way of making restraint look like suffering. As if every second he did not break something proved devotion.

“You waited eleven minutes.”

His silence answered before he did.

“It felt longer.”

You pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead, breathing through the ache building behind your eyes. Some part of you wanted to open the door just to see his face, to confirm that he was real and not only the shape your guilt took when you were tired. Another part, smaller but wiser, told you not to reward the fear he had brought with him.

“Go home,” you told him, though the words came out quieter than you intended, worn thin by everything you were trying not to let into your voice.

A pause followed, long enough that you could picture him on the other side of the door, his head slightly bowed, listening for the smallest shift in your breathing.

“Look at me first.” He sounded almost careful, as if he knew the request was too much and was asking anyway, unable to stop himself from wanting one last proof that you were still close.

“No.” The answer left you immediately, before the weaker part of you could turn it into something else.

Then his hand touched the door.

Not a knock. Not pressure. Just the faintest sound of his palm settling against the wood between you. “Please.”

Silence follower for a few seconds, you catch your forehead resting against the darkened wood. Opposite of where his palm was resting, unaware to your knowledge; something symbolic if it weren't for how insane this back and forth, push and pull dynamic was.

“I scared you,” Dex murmured.

You said nothing.

“I didn’t mean to,” he added.

“That does not make it better,” you replied.

“I know,” he admitted.

But he said it too quickly, like a man repeating something he had been told rather than something he had learned.

“You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice steadier now, though your fingers were still cold. “You don’t get to make me responsible for what happens to you because I didn’t answer fast enough.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

On the other side, his breathing changed. Slightly. Enough that you knew the words had found him.

“You make it sound like I’m trying to punish you,” he said.

“I think you don’t always know the difference.”

The hallway went quiet again. Somewhere below, a door opened and shut. Laughter rose briefly from the stairwell and then vanished, swallowed by distance. You wondered if Dex turned his head toward it. You wondered if he hated the reminder that other people existed around you, ordinary and uninvited, able to come and go without turning longing into surveillance.

“I can be normal,” he said finally.

Your throat tightened at that, at the effort in his voice, the careful arrangement of every syllable. You believed he wanted to. That had always been the cruelest part. Dex did not sound like a man lying when he promised gentleness. He sounded like a man standing in a burning room, insisting he could learn not to breathe smoke.

“Not like this,” you said.

He gave a small, humorless breath. “You always say that.”

“Because you keep doing this.”

“I just needed to know you were okay.”

“No,” you said, and the word came out sharper than intended. “You needed to know I was still there.”

That silence was different. Not empty. Wounded. You could almost see his expression: the brief downward flick of his eyes, the tightness at his mouth, the way his face would harden not because he felt nothing, but because he felt too much and had never trusted anyone enough to let it show without turning it into something dangerous.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower.

“Are you still there?”

You looked at the door for a long moment.

The question should have been simple. Yes, you were there, standing barefoot in your hallway with your heart beating too hard and your phone still lit in your hand. Yes, you had stayed up reading his messages, worrying over them despite yourself. Yes, some ruinous part of you still knew the exact shape of his loneliness and wanted to place a hand over it, as if tenderness could keep it from becoming teeth.

But that was not what he was asking.

“I don’t know,” you said.

The answer seemed to move through him. You heard him inhale slowly. Then came the faintest sound, almost nothing, his forehead resting against the door.

“I’ll leave,” he said.

You did not believe him until you heard him step back.

The distance between you changed by inches, then by feet. His shoes moved over the hallway carpet with unnatural quiet, pausing once near the stairwell. For one terrible second, you thought he would come back. That he would decide your almost-kindness had been enough permission to try again.

Then the stairwell door opened.

Then it shut.

You stood there until the apartment became your own again.

Only after several minutes did you return to the couch. The rain had strengthened against the window, turning the glass silver where the streetlights caught it. Your phone remained in your hand, screen dark now, holding the last shape of him like a bruise beneath the surface.

At 12:08, one final message appeared.

I’m sorry.

You looked at it until the words stopped meaning anything. Then, before you could stop yourself, you typed back.

You actually listened.

The reply came almost immediately, as if he had been waiting with the phone already in his hand.

I said I’d be good.

Heat rose under your skin before you could reason it away. You hated that those words felt different now, with space between you and the locked door, with proof that he had obeyed the one thing you had asked of him. He was still Dex, still too intense, still all sharp edges disguised as devotion, but there was something in the restraint that pulled at you more dangerously than his desperation ever had.

That doesn’t earn you anything.

you wrote.

The dots appeared, vanished, then appeared again.

You stared at the message, your mouth tightening around a response that took too long to become irritation. He knew exactly where to place the pressure now, not against the door, not against your fear, but against the quieter part of you that had wanted him to stay almost as badly as you had needed him to leave.

The room felt suddenly too warm. The rain struck the window in soft, steady lines, and you sat very still on the couch, aware of your bare legs beneath the hem of your oversized shirt, aware of the pulse in your throat, aware of how ridiculous it was to feel cornered by a man who had finally done as he was told and walked away.

You tell yourself you’re not going to text first.

You last nearly four minutes. Put the phone down. Why are we opening the chat? Why are we typing? The message sends. Oh, for God’s sake.

Dex.

Delivered 12:20AM

Read 12:20AM

dex <3

Just my name?

A warning.

Delivered 12:30AM

Read 12:30AM

dex <3

I like when you say it.

Heat rose before you could smother it, spreading beneath your skin with a shameful immediacy. It was only a text, hell, a few words on a screen. Nothing that should have had the power to make your breath catch or your knees draw closer together on the couch, as if making yourself smaller could hide the reaction from him. He was not even in the room, and still he found a way to touch some reckless, humiliating part of you that mistook danger for devotion.

That was what frightened you most. Not that Dex wanted too much, but that some part of you still answered.

And just like that, the door you had kept locked became a technicality. He had not raised his voice, had not touched the handle, had not done anything you could point to and call force, but somehow the ground shifted anyway. Somehow, he made your caution feel cruel, your silence feel like a punishment, your wanting feel like proof that maybe you had misunderstood him all along.

[libraryafterdark]

Story Time With the Sullys

I'm bacccckkkkkkkk. The motivation comes from dear @dubiousdonkler So you need to say thanksss ;)))

Masterlist

The warm evening air drifted through the Sully family’s marui. Outside, the ocean waves rolled softly against the shore, but inside, a much more dangerous force was gathering, curious children.

“Auntie!” You looked down as two small Na’vi practically launched themselves into your lap. Lo’ak and Tsireya’s twins.

“What is it now?” you asked, already knowing the answer. “Tell us a story about Dad!” Across the marui, Lo’ak immediately froze. “No.” The children ignored him.

“Please!” Tsireya smiled. “I want to hear this too.” “Traitor,” Lo’ak muttered. You grinned. “Oh, I know exactly which story.” Lo’ak’s eyes widened.

“No.” “Oh yes.”The children cheered.

Years ago....

Back in the rainforest, when Lo’ak was about twelve years old. And incredibly stupid. You, Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak were supposed to be gathering fruit. A very simple task. Gather fruit. Come home. That was it.

Unfortunately, Lo’ak spotted something moving in the trees. His eyes lit up. “Guys.” Neteyam sighed immediately. “No.” “But listen-” “No.” “What if-” “No.”

Lo’ak pointed dramatically. “What if that’s a legendary forest beast?” Everyone looked. There was absolutely nothing there. Just leaves. “Lo’ak,” you said slowly, “that’s a branch.” “No, it’s not.” “It is.” “No.” “It is.” He crossed his arms.

“I’m going to investigate.” Neteyam grabbed his shoulder. “No you’re not.” Lo’ak slipped away.

Five seconds later he was halfway up a giant tree. “LO’AK!”

“I’m fine!” The famous last words of every Sully child.

For about thirty seconds everything was fine. Then-

“AAAAAAAH!” You all looked up. Lo’ak was no longer climbing. He was falling.

Apparently the “legendary forest beast” had actually been a sleeping hexapede. Which he had accidentally stepped on. The angry animal had kicked him directly off the branch. Lo’ak crashed through approximately seventeen layers of leaves. Then disappeared. Silence. Everyone stared.

“…Lo’ak?” Kiri called. A weak voice answered. “I’m okay.” Pause. “I think.”

You found him hanging upside down. His ankle was tangled in vines. His bow was gone. One "shoe" was gone. Nobody knew where. And somehow he had leaves stuck inside his hair. Neteyam looked at him. Then looked away. Then looked back.

Trying very hard not to laugh. It didn’t work. The moment he snorted, everyone lost it. Even Tuk. Lo’ak swung helplessly. “STOP LAUGHING!” That only made it worse.

Then Jake showed up. Which somehow made everything worse. He looked at his upside-down son. Then at all of you. Then back at Lo’ak.

“…” “…” “…”

“How?” Lo’ak groaned. “I fell.” Jake nodded. “Clearly.” Another pause. Then Jake looked up at the vines. “Anybody got a knife?”

Twenty minutes later Lo’ak was finally free. The second his feet touched the ground he pointed at everyone.

“If any of you tell this story again-”

Present day...

“-and then Dad fell out of the tree!” you finished. The twins were laughing so hard they could barely breathe. “No way!” “Grandpa had to rescue him?!” You nodded seriously. “He was hanging there like a fruit.” The children absolutely lost it. Across the room, Lo’ak covered his face.

“I hate this family.” Tsireya was openly laughing now. “You never told me that.” “Because some stories should stay buried.” You smiled.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Lo’ak immediately looked suspicious. “What does that mean?” “It means I still have the story about the stingbat nest.” His face went pale. “Oh no.”

The twins gasped.

“The WHAT?” You leaned forward dramatically. “Well, your father once thought it would be a great idea to poke a stingbat nest with a stick…” Lo’ak stood up.

“Alright, story time is over.” The children grabbed your arms. “NO! KEEP GOING!” You grinned. Lo’ak groaned. And somewhere deep inside, you knew this was exactly what older siblings were born to do.

My laptop is still broken 😭 I can't take it anymore.

[nyctophicbtch]

The Songcord - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]

Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader

Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death

Word Count: 3,101

“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.

“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.

Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.

It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.

It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.

Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.

The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.

“Neteyam!”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!”

“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”

There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.

Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.

You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.

He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.

Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.

“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.

“I don’t know.”

They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.

“The usual.”

“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.

“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.

“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.

You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.

But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.

“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.

Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.

“Careful.”

“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.

Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.

The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.

“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.

“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.

You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.

“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”

Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.

“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.

You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.

-

“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”

“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.

Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.

You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.

However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.

Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.

“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.

“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.

Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.

“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”

“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.

“Do you want me to help?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”

Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.

“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.

“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”

“No it’s-“

“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.

“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”

“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.

“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”

“And I see him as a baby.”

You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.

“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”

“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.

“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”

“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.

“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”

And then Neteyam did something stupid.

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.

Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.

“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”

Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.

“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.

“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.

Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.

The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.

In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.

Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.

There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.

“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.

“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.

“It’s pretty!”

“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”

“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.

“You too?” You looked at the older brother.

“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”

“I could’ve handled them on my own.”

Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”

Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.

You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.

It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.

The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.

“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.

“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.

The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.

Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.

Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.

You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.

It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.

“I want to go home.”

No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.

“I know, I know. We’re going home.”

No. No.

You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.

Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.

“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”

You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.

“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.

You can’t leave me. Come back.

:)

‧₊˚.ೃ ࿐

©nyctophicbtch 2022 — do not copy, repost or translate

[nyctophicbtch]

Outsiders - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader ]

Summary: Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,033

©nyctophicbtch 2022 — do not copy, repost, or translate

Just as expected, there were no particular signs of interest your siblings found in you when Omatikayas showed up on the shore, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious upon their arrival.

“She will show up.” You faintly heard Rotxo quietly say to Ao’nung as you approached the commotion.

A glimpse of your father and mother speaking to an Olo'eyktan had you pushing through the crowd to get a better view. You could see your sister already examining the outsiders alongside your brother, being fairly kinder than he was.

“See,” remarked Rotxo as he spotted you making your way over to them.

Their banter over you was not uncommon. It never bothered you and you could care less with what they were whispering about now when you knew they had no ill intentions. Instead, you shifted your attention to the family standing before you and eyed each of them individually.

The littlest one was hiding behind her mother’s leg, the other girl looked exhausted and the younger boy had his eyes glancing at your sister too often to your annoyance.

You glanced at the eldest just as he did too, noticing you for the first time. The corners of his lips curved upwards to form a subtle smile in an attempt to seem friendly, which others might have missed but your brothers didn’t.

It wasn’t the smartest friendly attempt, considering how it only deepened the distaste of your brother into sneers and scowls.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to take interest in you,” whispered Ao’nung, though he didn’t seem pleased to know that. “You’re alluring. Stay away.”

“I won’t even do anything!”

“Exactly.”

“Shh,” interrupted Tsireya.

You shot a glare towards your brother in annoyance. He knew you wouldn’t even be interested in seeing them, let alone talking to them, yet somehow he was so sure that they’d approach you on their own

“They won’t even care, Ao’nung.” You had been so busy furiously thinking of arguments against your brother that the call of your name spooked you.

“They will teach you our ways,” your father said, earning immediate complaints from your brother whilst Tsireya obliged and wasted no time in leading the guests.

There was no doubt that your sister could handle them, and your siblings wouldn’t expect you to be interested in teaching them either. And they weren’t wrong. You’d prefer entertaining the kids running around the sand than guiding them.

“Where’s your other sister?” asked Kiri when she noticed your absence.

Neteyam hung back with Lo’ak as their parents busied themselves gazing at the village. The place still felt foreign to them, and even more so when they knew they’d be staying here.

“Doing something else. She’s not used to outsiders.” Tsireya did not stop to reply, the words coming off her tongue as if she had practiced it a thousand times.

Lo’ak raised his brows at the mention of another sister. He was too caught up fuming at Rotxo and Ao’nung to even notice you, but he doubted any of them were used to outsiders either.

“The quiet one.” Neteyam replied to his unspoken question. “The interesting one.”

“Go anywhere near her and we’ll tie you up with your baby tail.”

“Relax, she’s all yours.” Neteyam held his hands up in defense. He didn’t understand why they were getting so defensive over you although he barely even looked your way. Lo’ak was ogling at Tsireya and they didn’t seem too bothered.

Something was off about you, especially when you’d so rarely make yourself visible to any of them for days. He would’ve expected the daughter of the Olo'eyktan to be difficult to miss, especially when they all expected you to help teach them the Metkayina ways. And to be truthful, you just enjoyed doing your own thing that does not involve the outsiders.

“Father’s expecting all of us to join them.” Your annoyance was clearly visible. You weren’t even needed. They could handle this on their own without you, and your father knew that.

“Fine.”

-

You left them alone for two minutes and somehow they were already taunting each other when you came back. Your sister was called to help mother, much to your dismay, and you were putting back the saddles of the ilu.

“Lo’ak,” you heard Neteyam warn as you returned to the group behind Ao’nung, giving some distance.

When Lo’ak approached and flexed his fingers around, you knew what was coming before the punch actually landed on your brother’s face.

“Rotxo, stop!” you yelled, pulling him back by his hand. He shook you off easily, dismissing your warnings.

You looked to Neteyam who sighed, as if he’d witness this too many times. The older brother easily beat up Ao’nung and his friends in Lo’ak’s defense, scolding Lo’ak afterwards.

“Come on,” Ao’nung waited expectantly for you to follow them. He sensed your hesitance and saw the way your eyes roamed back and forth between them and the Omatikayas, and finally decided to leave without you.

“In my defense, you got to show off in front of her,” said Lo’ak groggily, nodding to you.

“Excuse my brother and his unrefined mouth.” Neteyam received a weak punch for that and the tiniest smile from you. He didn’t comprehend why, but Neteyam smiled at your amusement and from then, the annoyance you felt from having to teach them disappeared. Just slightly.

“Do I have to face dad?”

“Yes. Until then keep out of trouble. I mean it Lo’ak.”

It was safe to say Neteyam was impressed that his brother managed to not utter a single provoking word until he had to face their father.

“Hey.” Neteyam spun to the sound of your voice. It was nearly sundown and you were standing outside his room. “Sorry about my brother and his friends. I can still teach you how to control your breathing if you’d like.”

The mindful part of him knew he should go find his brother who hadn’t been visible for a long while, but the selfish part of him allowed his interests to take over. And this time, he allowed something for himself for once. Besides, Lo’ak should stay out of trouble after his last encounter with dad.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You nodded towards the shore and Neteyam jumped off his marui to follow you. It took great effort to avoid bumping into any of the children running around and splashing water.

“The secret to increasing your lungs’ limit is to slow your breathing and allow them to slowly adapt,” you said, pushing him back by the chest with both hands so that he sat down.

“Breathe from here.” You were only showing him parts of his chest and abdomen, but he couldn’t help the increasing pace of his heart as your hands felt around his chest. His eyes locked on your face the entire time in an attempt to focus on what you were saying, but the words that came out from your mouth sounded foreign to his brain.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You frowned. “Slow down.”

Neteyam nodded, but when you felt his heart keep its frantic pace, you sighed and removed your hands from his chest.

“We’ll try this again tomorrow with my sister.”

-

Neteyam did the one thing Ao’nung told him not to do. He found himself coming up with excuses to see you and he was just about subtle enough that even Tuk noticed.

“I just made peace. This time I think you’re going to be the one to mess things up.”

“I’m not doing anything.” They both knew it was a lie and Neteyam was fully aware of that.

“Can you show the way to our marui? They all look the same,” Lo’ak mockingly mimicked the conversation he overheard between you and his brother yesterday. Lo’ak was basking in his enjoyment.

It was something unlikely of Neteyam and something expected of Lo’ak, which made the whole situation even more amusing to the younger brother.

“Ow.” Lo’ak swatted away the hand that hit him in the back of his head.

“You’re being annoying. Stop.”

“Stop being a wuss and make a move. It’s her birthday.” The look Neteyam gave was out of pure disbelief.

“I’m not you who falls in love with every pretty girl you see.”

“I do not do that.”

“Yes you do. Now go annoy someone else. I’m going to see if mom found our gift.” Neteyam pushed the weight of Lo’ak’s arm away from his shoulder, distancing himself before walking the other direction.

“Actually, you already gave her one.” The words from his brother’s mouth caused Neteyam to freeze in place and turn his head to look at him.

“What?”

“You gave her a pretty sea bouquet with a sweet little note.” If he could, Neteyam would tear the smug look off of his brother’s face.

“Kurkung.” Asshole. “What did the note say?”

“You’re going to have to ask her yourself. She actually shows up when you’re around.”

Happy birthday, tanhì

- Neteyam

You somehow doubted that this was actually from Neteyam. He didn’t seem like the type to show romantic gestures to someone he met only a few weeks ago. You were surprised that he was even interested in you at all and it had you flushing like an idiot.

“What’s got you so smiley?” asked Rotxo, snatching the note from your hand before you could reply.

“Hey!”

“That bastard. I thought mom got you that.” Your brother gestured to the bouquet with a glare. You had no idea why your brother and his friends were so against you and Neteyam. It wasn’t like either of you showed any interest in each other. Well, not until now.

“Lay off, Rotxo. It’s her birthday,” you heard Ao’nung’s voice before he entered the marui and stole the note from Rotxo’s hands. Your brother’s hand ruffled your hair in a way he knew you hated. “Happy birthday, hì’i kxetse.”

Happy birthday, small tail.

You shoved his hand away in annoyance, the glare you sent looking more playful than menacing. The pushes turned into fights and a full race to the waters.

“Guys-“ Rotxo never got to finish what he was saying since the two of you were already running through the poor villagers that minded their own business, occasionally bumping into some of them.

Ao’nung was grinning at his expected victory when you tackled him from behind. The rest of the way was filled with tripping, pulling, and your attempts at kicking him away from you.

You were nearly there. Aonung would often beat you most of the time, but on lucky days, you claimed the victory.

“Woah!” Before you could stop yourself, you slammed into Neteyam, knocking the both of you over to the waters.

Water filled your lungs quicker than you could comprehend and it seemed like Neteyam did the same since he was coughing a fit once the two of you resurfaced.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology in between coughs.

“Looks like lover boy helped you win, little sis.” Ao’nung appeared from behind you. Your brother did nothing, but you hit him on his forehead - which felt like a weak nudge to him - for his mere existence. “I’m gonna fetch Rotxo. I’m still keeping my eye on you, forest boy.”

Once Ao’nung was out of earshot you were quick to approach him and apologize for your brother’s hostility. “Sorry for him. I liked your gift, though. It was lovely.”

Neteyam knew it wasn’t really his gift, but he couldn’t help but play along. Lo’ak was never going to let this go and he knew it. He was “forever in Lo’ak’s debt”.

“It’s alright. Happy birthday again.”

You smiled at Neteyam, leaning in to put a hand on his jaw and he hoped you couldn’t feel the speed of his heartbeat increasing as you gave a peck to his cheek. It was supposed to be him, yet you were the one whose face flushed and quickly swam away to find your ilu.

Lo’ak just found the entire thing amusing.

He raised a brow suggestively as Neteyam spotted him standing by the shoreline, blowing a kiss his way, which was responded with water splashed to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

tanhì [tan.ˈhɪ] n. star, bioluminescent freckle

hì’i [ˈhɪ.ʔi] adj. small, little (in size)

kxetse [ˈk’ɛ.t͡sɛ] n. tail

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©nyctophicbtch 2022 — do not copy, repost, or translate

[nyctophicbtch]

Main Masterlist | "All energy is only borrowed, and one day you have to give it back." ── Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, Avatar

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan ── .✦

Outsiders - Neteyam x fem!Metkayina!reader 2k words; fluff 𑣲

⋆˚࿔ Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

The Songcord - Neteyam x gn!Omatikaya!reader 3.1k words; angst

⋆˚࿔ You were only Tuk's age when Lo'ak found you all those years ago, and ever since, you've been inseparable with the Sully kids. One in particular, takes a liking to you, though he tries not to show it.

Dangerously Envy - Neteyam x fem!reader 1.9k words; jealousy

⋆˚࿔ After promising to spend a day with Neteyam, he finds his patience tested when other males from his clan interrupt your time together to flirt with you. Worst part is, he can't really do anything about it. Not when he has to make peace with everybody as the future Olo'eyktan, and definitely not when they think you're his "sister".

Little Secret - Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader 11.9k words; secret dating

part 1, part 2

⋆˚࿔ Being in a relationship with Neteyam is not as simple as one might think. The two of you are constantly navigating through your feelings, the rights and wrongs, the do's and dont's, all whilst keeping the whole thing hidden from his family. Naturally, he pretends to hate you for the sake of the secrecy, but Neteyam is starting to grow tired of keeping you as his little secret.

The Omatikayan Prince - Neteyam x gn!human!reader 3.4k words; hidden feelings

⋆˚࿔ The Omatikayan prince was attractive. His looks and status alone were enough to make even the most beautiful girls crave his attention, but Neteyam had always responded in reserved politeness. Who would've thought that the reason behind it was you, a little human who could bring the Olo'eyktan's son to his knees with just a bat of your eye.

Born of Fire, Loved by the Forest - Neteyam x Mangkwan!reader 4.5k words; forbidden love, enemies to lovers

series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ When Neteyam finds you on the battlefield, a Mangkwan; injured, he decides against killing you.

Drabbles .☘︎ ݁˖

The Spirit Tree - gn!Omatikaya!reader

Wandering Human - fem!human!reader

Something to Take the Edge Off, Literally - fem!reader

dad!neteyam - fem!reader

soft!neteyam - fem!Na’vi!reader

Headcanons .☘︎ ݁˖

Neteyam with Tsireya’s sister - fem!Metkayina!reader

Neteyam with Tonowari’s firstborn daughter - fem!Metkayina!reader

Seeing Neteyam for the first time in years - fem!Omatikaya!reader

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan ── .✦

But We’re Different - Lo’ak x fem!avatar/human!reader 3k words; hurt/comfort

⋆˚࿔ Some boys in the clan weren’t too friendly. They’d somehow convinced Lo’ak that you, a human, would never choose an outcast, let alone a na’vi, as your mate. You were left to figure out why he was unusually pulling away from you so much.

Not so Little Crush - Lo'ak x gn!human!reader 6k words; fluff n angst

⋆˚࿔ His mother has never been a fan of humans, but to Lo'ak, they're just people looking for a second chance at a home. Well, except for you. Pandora has been the only home you've ever known, so he hopes his mother sees reason with you, especially with how you seem to be the only person who truly sees him.

Lo’ak’s Little Secret - Lo’ak x fem!Omatikaya!reader 5,6k words; unreciprocated love

⋆˚࿔ When Lo’ak found out that you and Neteyam had been secretly dating all along, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

Headcanons .☘︎ ݁˖

Lo’ak with a Metkayina Mer - gn!reader

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ Ao'nung te Tsika'u Tonowari'itan ── .✦

Heartfelt - Ao’nung x fem!Sully!reader 2.6k words; second chances

⋆˚࿔ You knew Ao'nung picked on your siblings, especially your twin brother, Lo'ak, but he'd been so taken with you when you'd first arrived, you never would've expected him to put your brother's life at risk.

Should’ve Saved Me Sooner - Ao’nung x gn!Metkayina!reader 1.7k words; hurt/comfort

⋆˚࿔ Ao'nung isn't the most gentle person, that you've know since you were children. But when you injure yourself one day, the gruff man suddenly becomes so insistent on helping you, and is quick to become frustrated when he's not gentle enough.

Courting Rituals - Ao’nung x gn!Omatikaya!reader 1.5k words; idiots in love

⋆˚࿔ Getting tired of your obliviousness to his attempts at flirting with you, Ao'nung decides to make a bold move that you can't possibly ignore, right?

Little Getaway - Ao'nung x gn!Metkayina!reader 1.6k words; fluff

⋆˚࿔ Loud festivals weren't really your thing, that much Ao'nung knew. So when he found you sitting alone on the outskirts of the village, he offered to go for a swim, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist the little getaway.

Drabbles .☘︎ ݁˖

A Little Push - fem!reader

The Right Way - fem!Sully!reader

you’re a troublemaker - Na’vi!reader

Headcanons .☘︎ ݁˖

Being Ao’nung’s expected mate - gn!Metkayina!reader

Being Ao’nung’s Sully mate - fem!Sully!reader

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ 𓂃 ⋆ Colonel Miles Quaritch ── .✦

Na’vi - Colonel Quaritch x fem!Tawkami!reader 2.4k words; strangers to lovers

⋆˚࿔ Injured and stranded, Quaritch has no choice but to trust you, a na'vi who decides to help instead of killing him. Will you learn to fall in love with the dream walker as you nurse him back to health?

Other Drabbles ── .✦

Not a Freak - Rotxo x fem!Sully!reader

Sleep Deprieved - Tsu'tey x gn!avatar!reader

‧₊˚.ೃ ࿐

©nyctophicbtch 2025 — do not copy, repost, or translate