The love that is will always be

❣️ she/her | 24 | aro/ace aego + ficto | Lumililyyy/chimera-dreams on Ao3!

[lumilily]

Go look at my other blog if you want my fics ♥

[lilyflxwers]

ok i absolutely need to know what accents u all have pls reblog and tell me or comment or whatever I must know

[rr-after-dark]

tagged by @thedamnqueenofhell to do this what’s in my bag picrew and i love to have fun and to be included in things so!

guess what my favorite color is

this is an aspirational bag bc im so bad about carrying around my epi pen and using my eye drops

tags for the first handful of people i see on my "replies" tab bc i have that open: @thatcorporategirlie @honestlystop @lifeofapittgirl @lumilily @artsymaddie @moonstruks @yournamesnob @lorosette @bbuuunnyyy @romantic-insomniac

and @kenobifitz also bc i love you and this is v your aesthetic

[lumilily]

wait omg this is so cute oh my god wait I need to catch my breath-

Thank you sosososo much for the tag, legit squealing and kicking my legs

looks like we have similar tastes in color. can you guess what my fav subject is.

here's mine!! a lot of this is actually very similar to my actual bag irl, minus a few things! but I have some pins and a couple stuffies hanging off mine, always have a water bottle, lip balm, what have you. More of a purse than school back tho. my wallet is rectangular but has cats on it!!

thank you so much again for the tag <3 my own NPT: @junebugonjupiter @ilium-ilia @envy-of-the-apple (indulge me poly) @thee-horny-thicky I feel like I have so few people to tag

[junebugonjupiter]

The Place the Eye Does Not See | Mangkwan!Jake Sully

This is a prequel to my fic, Ashes to Ashes. You can read this first if you have not read the other one!

Word count: 4.5k

Pairing: Jake Sully x f!mate!reader

Description: In the wake of disaster, you take extreme measures to ensure the survival of your clan and your mate's rise to power.

Content Warnings: AU where the Omatikaya took the place of the Mangkwan and became ash Na'vi. Deranged!reader, Tsu'tey lives, severed kuru, reader and Jake become insane and power hungry.

Author's note: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE! I love Mangkwan!Jake and this AU very much! Leave me requests in my inbox if you have any ideas for this universe! Thank you Lumi and Finnie for giving me feedback and helping me spot mistakes! I appreciate you both sm!! @lumilily @lejardinfleur

Your eyes felt heavy and laden with unshed sorrow as your attention was pulled up to the man standing in front of your seated form. Ash drifted through the stagnant air. The trees were bare and burnt, black bark now taking the place of colorful vines that used to grow in abundance. 

The man you had once thought to be a demon, now looked more like an angel, as he crouched and handed you a cracked, hollowed out gourd of water. The liquid was warm and tasted like smoke, but it still helped clear your throat as it traveled down. 

Jake watched with cold and steely eyes as you swallowed each drop, the water running down your chin and chest made rivets of blue appear through the ash that covered your skin in thick sheets.

“Home tree still burns,” he said lowly and you stilled at the news. “It’s spread for miles, it’ll be here in a few days.”

“Then we cannot stay,” you surmised and he nodded. You glanced around at the crowds of people still grouped together. 

Your once mighty clan was now reduced to refugees and wanderers. The Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk were dead, one killed in the fall of Hometree, and the other dead from the missile that had taken down the Tree of Souls. Nearly two hundred more Omatikaya had joined them, most fallen in battle, others killed by debris or Hometree itself. What had once been your home, had become your graveyard.

Hundreds of Na’vi from other tribes were dead and wounded. Some still alive were scattered among you now, but the other stragglers had attempted to flee home. You would have once prayed for their safe return, but your faith in the Great Mother was diminished to ash, just like your forest. The thought of praying to her, after what she had done to you, made anger swell in your chest. What did you owe her that she had not already taken? What more was there to give? 

Where was Eywa when skypeople shot at your kin? Where had she been when they had cut the Na’vi down as if you were blades of grass? If Eywa held her children in her heart, then you must not be one of hers. Perhaps she had forsaken the Omatikaya for a new love. She had picked a side today. 

You hoped the skypeople enjoyed her favor as you once had. 

If she would not save you, then you would have to save yourself. You felt the thought settle in your heart like comfort or something soft, the reminder that this fight was not over. Despite the bleeding gash across your shoulder, you were not dead yet.

“They need someone to lead them,” you whispered softly to Jake over the cries of grief and agony.

His eyes narrowed, “Tsu’tey is-” but you stopped him before he could get too far. You needed him to step up now, for all of your sakes.

“No, Tsu’tey is unable to lead in his condition. You are Toruk Makto,” you reminded him, nodding to where Tsu’tey laid on the scorched ground. Neytiri crouched over him as she used a dead Na’vi’s clothing to tie a tight bandage over his bullet wound. His fate was entirely up in the air, his condition wavering each minute.

“They won’t listen to a skyperson,” Jake argued, watching as a woman sobbed over a toy, her child no longer there to play with the wooden Pa’li (direhorse).

“They will listen to Rider of Last Shadow. Eywa is no longer in this place, the humans have driven her away. You are the last gift she gave us, our last hope now. You must lead,” you insisted. The evening sky used to draw out the light of Jake’s tanhì (bioluminescent freckles), but ash now blocked the glow.

His eyes fell down to the gray dirt, but you forced his chin back up with your knuckle. “You betrayed us before, so now you must stay to make amends. You were weak then, but you have changed. I have seen it grow in you,” you demanded. Jake’s jaw clenched in anger or shame, you were not sure, but either would serve you now.

“I will forge you into something better, something stronger. Listen to me, follow my words, and we will bring down the humans. We can lead this clan back to what it once was, but only if you are at my side. The people need you to be strong… I need you to be strong.”

He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and the resolve filling them now had hope flickering once more in your chest. “I am with you,” he said steadily. “I am always with you,” he promised and you nodded. 

“Good,” you breathed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Then you know what needs to be done.”

He nodded, “Will you translate?” he asked.

“Yes,” you agreed, and he took your awaiting hands, tugging you up with him into a standing position. You led him to stand in front of the group of people, so small compared to your former strength.

He looked at you for reassurance, but you would not coddle him. Your steely gaze bored into him as you nodded. “Na’vi!” he finally called out to the people. 

Weary, bloodshot eyes looked up to him as he gripped his hands into fists at his sides. “The demons have won this battle, but they have not won the war,” he started as you translated it into the language of Pandora.

The people shifted, their hollow eyes betraying how bone tired and weary they were, but they perked up at his words. “They have killed the Great Mother, caused her to flee from this land. But all is not lost, our strength is each other.”

As you spoke in Na’vi, you saw Neytiri stumble to her feet, leaving Tsu’tey on the hard floor as she looked at you both with a shocked stare. Jake continued as the people started sitting up. 

He was visibly growing in confidence as he spoke and you felt something akin to relief or pride sweep over you. Perhaps you would not have to coach him so heavily, he seemed more ready than you had imagined. 

“We need to regroup, heal, find shelter and food,” he listed, “All able bodies should step forward. The young and the old will have to look after the wounded. I need hunters to travel to find food and others to find water. We will need to build shelters,” he explained with a tone that demanded respect.

So the rebuilding began. Warriors who remained relatively unscathed had mounted their ikran to ride away from the skypeople’s fires to find any beasts to slay or plants to forage for food. Those who had minor injuries were sent to collect water from the river that once ran beside Hometree, but now they would have to travel far to reach it.

When you had turned to Jake for your own assignment, he just shook his head, “Stay here, Baby. Help the wounded and start on some shelters. Your shoulder doesn't need any stress on it,” he said and you bit back a protest. 

You needed to be on his side completely, not show any resistance, play the long game. Besides, you needed time to think. You could do mindless work here while you planned your next moves. You nodded demurely, “Thank you, Jake. You take such good care of me,” you cooed, a hand finding his shoulder. 

He gave a half-hearted smile, “of course, Baby.”

When he and the other warriors came back hours later, the supplies were few and you realized with sudden urgency that your people needed to move. They would die if they stayed here. 

But before you could go, there was one thing that had to be done. 

 “Jake,” you asked softly, coming up to him where he was helping unload the sparse, bloodied meat that they had collected. 

He turned to you, ears pointing up as his face softened. “Hey.”

You smiled back, although it was tight lipped. “I know you have gone through much today, but your human body must be dealt with,” you informed him. 

“What?” he asked, looked taken aback by your current focus.

“You are weakened by it. As of now, you are tied to a body that depends on machines. Anything could go wrong, and regardless, soon, you will run out of air. We need to do a transfer.”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking torn at the prospect.

You stepped back, eyes wide at his hesitance. “Do you not love me? Do you not want to stay with me?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, “That’s not it.”

“Then you will transfer today, or you will never see me again,” you ordered, turning on your heel to go find Neytiri. 

You were pleased when Jake caught up with you, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you back. “No, hey, I’m sorry. You’re right. I'll do the transfer,” he relented and your lips cracked into a blinding smile. 

“I knew you would make the right choice, yawnetu (loved one),” you fawned, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. “Come, arrangements need to be made.”

You and Jake found Neytiri in the same spot, tending to Tsu’tey and a few others who would likely not make the night. “Neytiri, we have a problem,” you said, as you and Jake sat next to Tsu’tey’s unconscious body.

“We have many problems,” she agreed. The Tsakarem’s eyes flitted between you and Jake as she nodded once for you to continue. 

“My human body is on borrowed time. I need to transfer my mind like Mo’at tried with Grace, except this time… I really need it to work,” Jake huffed sardonically. Neytiri’s eyes widened and you rushed to speak. 

“Will you perform the ceremony?” you asked, mentally pleading with her to say yes. “Is this even possible?” you asked, leaning in with furrowed brows as Neytiri nodded, looking resigned. 

“Yes, but it will not be easy. The only connection with Eywa left in the forest is miles away, it will take hours to reach. Jake will not last long in this body,” she agreed. “I will do this, but we must go now,” Neytiri insisted.

“Then let’s get it done,” Jake agreed, slinging his gun over his shoulder by its strap and standing up. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You will have to travel in your human body,” you realized, chewing your lip nervously as you thought over the logistics. 

“That won’t work,” he insisted. “My legs… I can't travel across this terrain.”

You cocked your head, “Is your faith in me so brittle? I think I have an idea.”

Several hours later, you were on a Pa’li, with Jake’s small human body pressed to your front. Neytiri was just behind you on her own Pa’li. Jake’s unconscious, Na’vi body was strapped to the back of her beast. You were both picking your way through the smokey haze of the forest, or at least, what was left of it.

Jake barely said a word through his clear mask and you did not say anything either. It felt too weird to see him in his pink skin and odd human clothes. It felt so much more real to be confronted with his humanity in this way. His metallic smell was a hundred times stronger like this, and the stench was giving you a headache. 

You glanced behind you to where Neytiri was grimacing at the smoke in the air. A small part of you, the jealous part, was satisfied to see that not an inch of Jake was touching Neytiri and she seemed to not be paying him any mind. 

You turned back to the small human that was supposed to be your mate. The sight of him made your stomach roll, but you tried to hide your disgust for his sake. You leaned forward to speak to him without Neytiri hearing. “Let this weak, human part of you die, Jake. Be reborn into something terrible and strong,” you whispered into the shell of his pink ear. 

He paused, processing your words before he nodded. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be,” he promised. 

Once at the tree, you set Jake down at its base before you helped Neytiri lower his avatar form to the ground. He was heavy and it took both of you to pull him to the root covered dais, but finally you placed his unconscious form into position. Jake moved to be laying the opposite way of his avatar and laid down with his back flat to the rock. 

You knelt down beside him and leaned over his body. "When you see her, tell Eywa that I will not forgive what she has done," you hissed, eyes aflame with underlying, yet glowing rage. 

Jake did not say anything in response. How could he even begin to know what to say? He just nodded grimly and pressed his lips together. You smiled kindly, a glimmer of the woman he had fallen in love with peeking through. “Thank you, Yawnetu. Come back to me.”

“I will,” he agreed, reaching up to cup your cheek with his small hand. 

“We must begin,” Neytiri interrupted, and you nodded. 

“Then begin.”

When Neytiri began chanting, the vines slowly began to glow and stretch over both of his bodies. They covered who he was and is and had yet to become, making your heart squeeze in anticipation for something new to emerge from the ashes of this defeat. 

You waited as Neytiri pleaded with Eywa, something you refused to do. You would not ask her to do what you were already owed. It was her who should be pleading with you for forgiveness.

You hovered expectantly, caught between love and rage, as you waited for Jake. 

It felt like an eternity, but Jake’s human body slowly stopped breathing. You placed a hand over Jake’s Na’vi heart, hoping for a thump, but there was only stillness. You waited a moment more, but eventually Neytiri stopped praying. 

Your burning, panicked eyes flew up to her. “Why have you stopped?” you demanded. 

“I am sorry, ‘eylan (friend). I do not think it has worked,” Neytiri said, dismayed. 

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in so easy to defeat. You gripped his chin, jerking it up so he would face you, but there was no breath on his lips. “No,” you muttered. If he was not to be born from love and patience, then he would be born from violence. 

You took your other hand, balled it into a fist, and brought it down on his chest hard. “Jake, wake up, you skxawng,” you cried out in desperation. Neytiri leaned back, wary of your methods and your anger. 

Still, despite your effort, his face was slack. Neither air nor a heartbeat had moved in either body for what was growing into minutes.

“You promised you would come back! You will not leave me this way!” you ordered. You screamed in frustration, ripped your hand away from his face and brought it down with your other fist, pounding on his chest with all the force in your body. 

With a stuttering gasp, Jake’s eyes flew open and breath filled his lungs. 

You let out a relieved sigh. Your rage had brought him back to you.

One month later:

You and Jake had begun moving the remains of your small camp forward. Less than a hundred Omatikaya remained, yet you had created a small community from the barren wasteland you had been left with. 

Animals had been hunted, their meat used to feed the people and their hides creating shelter after being strung between dead, charred trees.

Other homes had been fashioned to stand freely and people found or fell into roles. The mantles of Tsahìk and Olo’eyktan were usurped by you and Jake. You did not ask permission or put it to a vote, you simply stepped into the role. Anyone who did not like it would be dealt with, but so far, no one had voiced their concerns. 

You slathered a mixture of ash and clay and water on your skin, creating a paste that would absorb the harsh rays of sun. You had heard of people in the plains using paint and mud to keep the sun from burning their skin, but you had thought it to be strange at the time. You always had your forest to keep you protected with its lush canopies and thick foliage to shield you from the elements. 

Now there were only stumps where the giant trees used to be. Only white ash where plants and life had once thrived. Your skin burned quickly if there was nothing between it and the sun.

“We need guns, equipment, explosives,” Jake mused, looking over the maps he had crudely drawn on animal hide. 

You looked up from the bowl on the ground to your mate who was hunched over his plans. Your kelku was the largest in the small village. Jake had ordered it to be made precisely how you would like it, and much of the finer details were handled by him directly. You had quickly learned that he was a doting mate.

“Then it must be sought, Ma Jake,” you replied, rubbing a paint covered hand over your chest and shoulders. 

He looked up. “A raid would be suicide,” he responded. 

You cocked your head and beckoned him closer. He pushed aside his plans and padded over to you, letting you pull him down to his knees in front of your kneeling body. 

You dipped your hands back in the paint, bringing them to his stomach and slathering the grayish paste over it. 

“Does the fire balk or slow down at resistance? No, it takes what it needs to grow and it does not stop at the sight of its enemy. It pushes until it has conquered, as must you,” you explained, rising up to run your hands up his shoulders and neck, covering blue sin with ash until not even his tanhì would show through.

Jake narrowed his eyes, dipping his own hands in the paint as he mulled over your words. The paint was cold on your skin as his fingers dragged down your nose and cheeks. You shivered and you enjoyed the uptick of his lips at your reaction. 

“We have been looking at the fire as if it was our destroyer, but I see now the truth of it. The fire did not destroy us. Our weakness did. We let the skypeople infiltrate our lands and mine our ground, and when they came for our destruction, we had no defense strong enough. It is time we learn from our mistakes.”

“The fire took everything from us, as we must now take everything from them,” Jake surmised, looking intently at you with gold eyes as if seeking your approval.

You smiled, hands matching pace with each other as they trailed up his neck and stopped at his jaw. “Precisely. Gather a war party, take what we need and let no skyperson stop you,” you muttered encouragingly, pulling his head down so you could kiss him. His hands roamed your back, spreading more paint on the expanse of it. 

You pulled away from him when the ash on your lips got into your mouth, the taste of it bitter and cleansing. 

“We will hit them when they transfer goods. That’s when they’re most vulnerable,” Jake said, eyes still closed as your foreheads rested on each other. His eyebrows were twisted in a way that you had learned meant he was strategizing in that brilliant brain of his. 

“Hit them hard, give no mercy,” you said into the air between you. 

“No mercy,” he agreed. 

-

They rode out early the next morning. 

Jake had set out a solid game plan. Scouts had reported a train carrying supplies was on the tracks, and Jake was quick to mobilize. A party of 30 flew out and all 30 were back an hour later. They arrived with weapons, food, water stores, and even human liquor. A success all around. 

No skypeople had survived the raid. Every single one of them laid where they had died, and when the generals and commanding officers would arrive to investigate in the following hours, there would be no trace of the culprit. All arrows had been gathered from their targets and no Na’vi blood had been spilt.

The humans would have their suspicions about it being the work of the avatar defector, Jake Sully, but all they would see on the cameras was a red, gray, and black blur before the feed cut out.

In the makeshift Omatikaya village, there had been dancing and feasting that night, celebrating the small victory they had rightfully won. 

When Jake had raised a handmade cup of what he called “Vodka” in the air and toasted to you, you had never felt more appreciated. “To my Tsahìk, who is the real cause of your victory today,” Jake smiled smugly down at you where you sat lounging near the fire. You smiled, grateful for his acknowledgement, even though it was rightfully owed. 

Your eyes roved over the crowd of your people, taking in their delighted faces. Many cheered, but one man did not say a word. In fact, he did not even raise his cup. He stuck out to you like a ‘angtsìk (hammerhead titanothere) in a field of flowers. 

“Atan,” you said, a smile still on your lips as you looked at the hunter who had been trained by Tsu’tey and was one of the best warriors in Jake’s party. All heads swiveled to him as he looked up at you in surprise at being called out. “You do not agree with Olo’eyktan,” you guessed. 

He ground his teeth, but nodded. “We should not be attacking them. We do not have the strength to fight them off if they were to strike back,” he argued and your blood boiled. 

“I see,” you said, handing your cup to the woman beside you and standing with slow ease. You did not let your anger show, not yet. “And what would you have us do to the demons who killed our mothers and our fathers, our sisters and brothers. Who killed our children?”

He hesitated, glancing up at Jake, who only stared back. “I- I would have bided our time. Found another clan to join. There is strength in numbers,” he offered. 

“You think you know better than Tsahìk?” Jake growled, stepping closer and Atan’s eyes widened. 

“I know war, Olo’eyktan. That is all I know,” he corrected. 

“And we do not?” you asked, stalking up where your husband stood and joining him as a united force. 

The clan waited with bated breath at Atan’s next words.

His brow furrowed and he finally stood on legs that did not shake. “When the old Tsahìk and Olo’eyktan died, there was a clear line of succession. Tsu’tey and Neytiri have a right to lead,” he argued. 

Jake stood straighter, his broad shoulders stretching wider than any natural born Na’vi’s. He walked slowly forward, each step calculated and sure. He stood toe to toe with Atan, “That sounds a lot like treason, my friend,” Jake spoke low. “And traitors must be punished.” As quick as the wind, Jake drew his knife, reaching behind Atan and hooking it around his kuru. The braid created a loop around the blade, held taunt by Jake’s fist.

Atan’s eyes flew wide and he froze, back arched as he struggled to stay as still as possible. Pain from the action was evident in the way Atan’s eyes and jaw squeezed, but he did not cry out. Your eyes sparkled in wonder as you watched Jake perform his new role. 

“Anyone else feel this way?” Jake turned to Neytiri and Tsu’tey, bandages still wrapped around the latter's torso. Atan whimpered as his feet shuffled with Jake’s movements, careful not to move more than necessary. “When you lay dying, didn’t you give up your title to me? Have I stolen what was yours, brother?” Jake looked down at the former Olo’eyktan in feigned confusion.

Tsu’tey stared up at Jake with a thick layer of fear in his eyes. He was quiet for a long beat that stretched into moments of tension. Finally he admitted the truth. “No, Olo’eyktan. I gave up my right to lead during the battle.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Jake laughed, shaking his head, “And Neytiri, am I right in believing that as my mate, it would make sense for my wife to be Tsahìk? That is how the Na’vi do it, right? Would you wish to challenge her for the position?”

Neytiri looked terrified for Atan, her lips set in a thin line. She shook her head, “No, Olo’eyktan. I do not wish to take what is hers.” 

“No, you wouldn't, ‘cause that would be treason,” Jake agreed and Neytiri nodded, her movements frantic to please him. 

Neytiri knew in her heart she had failed her student when she had watched him fall for you, but had done nothing. Even as she saw the beginnings of who you would become, she had decided to leave it to Eywa. She now deeply regretted her compliancy all those months ago.

“So it seems like it’s just you, Atan.” Jake said to the man still in his grasp. 

You smiled maniacally at the scene before you, even as your conscious screamed. This was the point of no return.

You walked up to Atan and he stared terrified back at you. “Treason cannot be tolerated, not anymore. That is the way of things,” you explained. You glanced up at Jake who raised his brow in silent question. 

The look of horror on Atan’s face made the choice easy. You would help force him to be something stronger, something that did not rely on the old ways. 

“You will not need it, Eywa has already forgotten you.” You laid a hand on his face in a way that you hoped showed him you were only doing what was in his best interest.

You looked up at your mate, and with the slightest nod of your head, Jake pulled his obsidian blade clean through the kuru. 

Everyone stared in rapt terror as Atan fell to the ground and emitted a scream so curdling and piercing it would follow you the rest of your days. 

Jake held up the kuru like a trophy and turned in a circle so all could see. “To my Tsahìk,” he roared, turning back to you and smiling wickedly, both sets of avatar fangs on display, “who is the real cause of our victory,” he repeated.

The crowd erupted into cheers, some forced and some earned. 

You smiled back at Jake. He had proved himself to you tonight. He had been molded into something that would last, something that would protect. He had become what you had dreamed him to be.

The Great Mother had banished you to the place the eye did not see, and together, you had conquered it with roaring applause. 

Taglist:

General Avatar: @zzma-rs @thearieunhinged @tanzierina @elegantdeerlady @lottiea0 @oceanfyre @daiiverse @/lejardinfleur @dopedreamobject @yukichan67 @christiinee @kazgiena @princess76179 @sunmoonsweets @ashandsmoke @animegamerfox @tubby23 @fizzywizzyglizzy @traumaanatomy @kiatjuddae @th3realslimb1tch @lillysophiea @lexasaurs634 @littlemochix17 @rebelatbay @theselkieprincess @ashrod98 @zvraaaa @teabeen @shmaptainbonky @sullycore @marinetteshippedtoroy @23victoria @celestesolace @yoko7658 @godisitnaptimeyet @superlegend216 @lizzy91768 @goldfishenthusiast67 @celestialsonglines @user153639937 @kylamia19  @/lumilily

[lumilily]

I love love loved reading this so much, and so happy I got to beta read this!!!

[rawme-price]

Ghost's favorite position, hands down no argument, is prone bone.

Him on top, of course, one arm nestled under your torso and holding you close. The other slung above his head, forearm resting just above you in a lazy sprawl.

You've learned that this is his go-to position after eating. Something about a fully belly and feeling safe, warm in your presence just makes him too tired for the more ambitious stuff you usually do. Ghost would much rather lie on top of you, squishing you under his massive figure.

"Fuckin hell— hold still, lovie." Ghost groans when you squirm at a particularly harsh thrust. Not like you could actually go anywhere when he completely settles his weight into you and switches from thrusts to grinding.

"W– what–? Si...c'mon, baby you promised...!" You groan, huffs because he had promised to fuck you earlier!

"I'm inside you, ain't i?" He grunts, slinking the other arm under you too for a proper cuddle, the heavy thickness of his cock still deep inside.

"Yeah, but you know thats not what I— uh....simon? Si...? Oh my god—" steady snoring above you.

Of course he decided now was the best time to nap. Fucking food coma again.

...Hopefully he gets a wet dream and you get that fucking you asked for.

[egberts]

"i ate too many cookies" is truly an ageless problem. an unlearnable lesson.

[emtmercy]

I understand all the ways Pap smears can suck but I do get so nervous when ppl w vaginas start telling each other how evil and horrific they are bc you need to get them like my moms alive bc of getting them yearly

Like they can suck but it’s ok!!! My first one was before I’d ever done anything w my actual vaginal canal so it didn’t go well so I get that they can go poorly but there are lots of ways they can change the experience to help you

Like when I wasn’t as used to it they would use the baby speculum for me and that made it very doable

And now I do regular size but I get the plastic one because it feels better

[togethersleekparable]

Avatar Fandom is dying again

See y'all in 2029

[just-another-idk]

Not whilst I have fanfiction to write

[eywas-stargirl]

my blog's milk teeth haven't even come in so i'll be writing avatar fics till time implodes on itself

[junebugonjupiter]

We got to keep it alive people!!

Follow Avatar blogs!!

Like Avatar content!!

Reblog Avatar fics!!

Write fanfic!!

I’m still writing for Avatar and have plans to keep doing so!! It’s only dead if we let it die.

[sleepy-seal]

im being so serious when i say this but we need to bring back the "my genitals are none of your business" "if gender is whats in my pants then my gender is some loose change" mentality from the late 2010's because too many people on here are openly flirting with exclusionary people who spout enbyphobic rhetoric. stop caring about what people's agabs are you assholes. they literally mean nothing. they're not a zodiac sign or indicative of people's character. you are not wholly pure or wholly evil because of your assigned sex. you're just a person.

[ash-and-art]

"what genitals do you have?" Is sexual harassment regardless if its from a security guard or a chronically online furry

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

your comment means so much to the author!! don’t be shy about letting your favorite authors know you love their works.

if their fic makes your day, your comment makes their day too

[aomitois]

rb and tag your favorite song that's not in english, japanese or korean

[strangergraphics]

ban ai banner dividers part three:

(aura edition)

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[chimera-dreams]

Hot Tea

a piece for @junebugonjupiter's Jealousy in June event!

prompts: 1) glaring down anyone who looks at their partner 11) "I could treat you so much better than them" 13) reader is sick/hurt

tags: Jake x f!reader x Neytiri; Jake and Neytiri being overprotective; icky ex bothering you (inspired by my own ex lmao); reader is sick; fluff and comfort; takes place shortly after Avatar 2009

wc: 2.5k

You were miserable.

A ravaging headache pulsed behind your forehead and radiated down your temples, circling your head; your nose was far too stuffy to breathe though, and leaked like a water gourd with a hole in the bottom (or, as Jake said, 'a faucet'. You still didn't really understand what a 'faucet' was).

Your ears rang, every joint in your body ached, and you wanted nothing more than to lay under something cold, be left alone, and sleep until these terrible symptoms went away.

Unfortunately for you, your mates were determined to make you suffer more (tend to you).

All of this because your pa'li had gotten spooked and thrown you into a muddy, deep puddle in the middle of a rainstorm, right as eclipse was falling.

You had to walk back to kelultral, dirty and soaked to the bone, and by the time you got back to your worried mates, you were growing feverish and losing coordination in your limbs.

Now, here you sat a few days later, bundled up in three hides and placed at the very front row of the communal fire. Sure, you usually sat at the front due to Jake being olo'eyktan, but they wanted you as close as reasonably and safely possible, insisting on keeping you warm.

Jake told you that, back on his planet, they would call it 'sweating it out'. Neytiri had given him side-eye for it and muttered something about skypeople being too stupid to know how to treat a cold, and refused to hear it when he claimed that human methods were actually similar to Na'vi methods.

You could only blink slowly as they bickered, too weak to fight off Neytiri's coddling tendencies. Being tsakarem meant she knew every way to treat a minor illness and was going to use all of them to nurse you back to health.

It was already rare for your mates to leave you alone. You always had either one or both by your side, the two keen on keeping you safe, sometimes to the point of being a little overbearing. Unlike them, you weren't a fighter. Yes, you passed your iknimaya, got your own ikran, survived the uniltaron, but you were a homebody at heart. You found that you were most joyous when spending time in your shared kelku with your spouses, or sitting in community circles while working on crafts of all sorts.

Despite how busy they were as olo'eyktan and tsakarem, they made plenty of time for you.

At present, however, you were alone. An immensely rare occurrence.

Jake had been pulled away by a distraught clan member, and Neytiri went to make a soothing tea for the ache in your throat. You, meanwhile, were resignedly munching on teylu, something that would be easy on your stomach while nutritious enough to aid in your healing. Jake had also promised to return with soup when he finished helping out the clan member.

You didn't want to eat, feeling queasy and sleepy, but you knew your mates would borderline shove the food down your throat if you didn't. It was simply easier to eat it by yourself.

While you waited for them to return, you chewed slowly and fantasized about laying in your hammock between your mates, bundled up and snuggled and—

"Olo'eyktan and tsakarem should be ashamed of themselves."

You jumped, startled by the noise, and looked up to see…

A familiar face, actually, albeit not one you were very keen on seeing.

Your ex.

Years ago, before you met Jake Sully, and you and Neytiri were still tip-toeing around each other, Keo'tu asked to court you. While you were hesitant, you could think of no reason to deny him. You were fond of Neytiri, immensely so, but it's not like you were courting each other.

At first, Keo'tu was doting.

He was tender and soft and sweet, visiting you often through the day and always bringing you gifts, from beads for your hair to a particularly shiny river rock, those strong reeds you mentioned needing to gather at some point, and even a large, soft fur hide. The early stages of your courting were lovely.

But then, he began to drift away. Dismiss you more often, fail to upkeep his promises. On two separate occasions, he left you waiting on him for several hours outside of Hometree after he said he'd help you gather berries for dye, worry and impatience wearing you thin. When you returned to Hometree in the evening, having spent all day anxiously rooted in place, you found him with his friends, laughing loudly and without a care.

All you ever got from confronting him was 'sorry, yawnetu. I changed my mind.'

You finally broke things off when you found him flirting with another girl after standing you up again. The image of him coiling a strand of her hair around his finger while leaning close to her, laughing as she pawed at his chest, had been seared into your mind.

And now, he was here.

Keo'tu stood beside you, looking down at you with a furrow in his brow and a hint of sneer, though you couldn't tell if it was directed at you or not. He still had that glint in his eyes that made it seem like he was always scheming something, and based on how he chose to visit you now of all times, when you were apart from your mates, you suspected he was.

"What?" You rasped out, blinking dumbly at his words.

Many Omatikaya were not pleased when Jake took the mantle of olo'eyktan after the second Great Sorrow came to an end, and Keo'tu was one of them, outspoken and loud in his opinion that a tawtute should never have been the one to claim leadership over Na'vi. It was his kind that brought the Time of Great Sorrow in the first place, after all.

While you understood his views, Jake had proven himself time and again to be a trustworthy ally to the People. He even gave up his vrrtep form to fully become one of the People, and had worked tirelessly since then to atone for the sins of his kind, and his own. He was a good leader, effective and efficient in guiding your clan to rebuild what had been lost and destroyed in the war.

He was trying. That is what mattered to you.

But to folks like Keo'tu, it wasn't enough.

Even among the clan, he was seen as a bit of an extremist, often found glaring at Jake and mumbling about how he should have been sent to the Great Mother, or had his kuru taken as penance.

Fewer and fewer agreed with him, nowadays. As time went on, more Na'vi began to See and trust Jake. He didn't sit back on his ass and command others on what to do; Jake was front and center on everything, from helping build new homes, to overseeing hunting parties to obtain resources for the clan.

Everything he did was out of consideration of the People. He made oaths to the clan, and upheld those oaths.

But Keo'tu could never look past their differences. All he ever saw was a human playing pretend. Neytiri, too, was not exempt from his ire. A traitor, in his eyes.

"They should be ashamed of themselves," Keo'tu repeated himself as he dropped into a crouch, piercing eyes holding yours. "Leaving their sick mate all by herself."

Anger flared hot and bright, indignation surfacing through your fever in a blaze that only made the pressure in your head worsen.

"How dare you—" you began.

"I'm just saying," he interrupted. "I'd never leave my mate to fend for herself when she's clearly incapable of doing anything."

His backhanded retort had you jerking away from him as if he'd struck you.

You bared your teeth at him, wrapping your hides tighter around yourself. "You have no right to speak that way of my mates, Keo'tu," you spat out his name like it was bitter rind on your tongue. "Have you forgotten how you were more than happy to leave me in the forest, alone, when you were courting me?"

He scoffed, offended. "Come on, paskalin. Surely you aren't still hung up on that, are you? That was years ago. I'm a changed man."

You were, in fact, still hung up on it.

For the duration of your courtship with him, you gave him so much of your time and affection. You did so much for him, and in return, you got a flaky, manipulative partner. Every day, you thanked the Great Mother that you did not end up mating with him, knowing you would've been deeply miserable if you had.

And still, he had the audacity to tell you to move past it when he refused to see past the person Jake used to be. Demands forgiveness, yet will not give it.

And you knew that he would bring up faults of your own at any possible moment, saying he desired no apologies, but would not let you forget any tiny mistake you made. Whatever it took to make him seem like the bigger, better person.

"Just leave me alone, Keo'tu," you pleaded stuffily, turning away from him. Whatever appetite you possessed vanished entirely by his presence, but you continued eating you teylu, if only to have something to do, a way to ignore your ex's existence.

He clicked his tongue, the sound making your hackles rise.

"There's no need to be so hostile," he crooned, his voice making your food completely inedible. Giving up, you put it down on your wooden plate and buried your face into your knees, hides working overtime to protect you from his vileness. "Come with me, ma'yawnetu. I will take care of you."

You snarled at him. "Do not call me that."

He grinned, undeterred. He pried the edges of the hides from your clammy, weakened fingers, and locked a solid, tight palm around your wrist, squeezing harshly.

"Ouch!" You yelped as he pulled. "Let me go!"

"I can treat you so much better than them," he cooed, sickly sweet.

Nausea turned your stomach nearly inside out, disgust rankling up your spine. Your fever pitched, head swimming as rage and indignity swarmed you in crushing waves.

You opened your mouth to chew him out (and possibly literally bite a chunk out of him), spite at the tip of your tongue—

A hand ripping Keo'tu's from you caused the words to die before they formed, and your head snapped up to find Neytiri hovering over you, her sharp eyes glaring unblinkingly at Keo'tu as she threw his hand away.

Behind Keo'tu, a shadow formed, a silhouette carved against the light of the bonfire. He visibly paled, and turned slowly to look over his shoulder up at your olo'eyktan.

Backlit by the fire, the only parts of Jake comfortably visible were his tanhì and his golden eyes, which seemed to glow like they had a fire of their own within. Shadowed, he cut an intimidating image, yet all you felt was relief.

Your mates were here.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jake growled out, voice a low rumble in his chest that reminded you of a palulukan. Were it not for the bowl of soup in his hand, even you might have found yourself a bit nervous at his tone.

Keo'tu jumped to his feet, stumbling back a step away from Jake, closer to you. Neytiri hissed loudly at him, and he jolted, hurrying in a different direction.

"JakeSul— olo'eyktan," Keo'tu quickly corrected himself, bringing his fingers to his forehead in respect. "Oel ngati kameie."

Jake did not return the gesture, his small eyes narrowed into menacing slits. Wordlessly, he passed the bowl to Neytiri, who immediately took to coddling you, pressing the edge of the bowl to your lips. It was a bit difficult to pay attention to the soup, though, given how focused you were on Jake.

Evidently, you wouldn't eat it, so she carefully set the bowl down.

"What are you doing here?" Jake spoke quietly as to not raise a fuss, but his words were laced with something that screamed danger. A warning.

Keo'tu began to speak, his voice cracking under the pressure. Clearing his throat, he tried again, saying, "I— I was just checking on her, olo'eyktan. I was worried."

Jake's nose twitched, the bridge close to wrinkling. "What? Think we can't take care of our mate?"

Keo'tu stammered. "No, no, that's not… I did not mean to offend."

Jake clearly did not believe the fumbling man. You wondered what happened to Keo'tu's confidence, where all that ire towards the clan's leader went.

"I've seen you 'round, lookin' at my girl," Jake said, taking a slow step towards your ex. The People gathered nearby quieted their chatter, eyes drawn to the scene. "Eyein' 'er like a piece of meat. That what ya think of 'er? Huh?"

"Of— of course not," Keo'tu attempted to defend himself, hands raised placatingly. "I only—"

"You only, what? Thought you could get away with harassin' 'er?" Jake sneered. "Maybe I should kick you outta the clan, have you exiled."

Keo'tu's hands tightened into fists, sweat beading at his brow. "Is this because of my views on you, JakeSuli?" He asked, holding desperately onto that poor excuse of a backbone.

Jake laughed humorlessly. "Nah, don't care 'bout that. I care 'bout you botherin' my wife."

"I was not—"

Jake held his hand up to interrupt, glancing at you. "He hurt you, baby?"

You rubbed your wrist, testing the area. Beyond a faint, lingering ache that would disappear in a minute or two, you were unharmed, so you shook your head. "I am alright."

Jake's jaw ticked, and you could see in his eyes how he debated what to do, torn between mercy and exacting punishment over anyone that dared disturb his family's peace. Eventually, his nostrils flared, and he shook his head.

"Go, get outta here," Jake snapped. "Before I sever that braid of yours and wear it like a badge."

"Leave," Neytiri barked.

Keo'tu startled, bolting without another word.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, your mates relaxed and turned their attention towards you. Neytiri rubbed your back, brushing a few braids away from your face so she could kiss your temple.

Jake dropped to his knees, careful to avoid spilling the soup he promised and delivered to you. His hands reached out, cupping you cheeks and turning your face this way and that to check you for injuries, as if you'd just come back from a hunt.

"You okay, baby? He didn't hurt you, right? I swear to god if he so much as—"

"Jake," Neytiri scolded. "Later."

Olo'eyktan deflated, but nodded. "Right. Later," he confirmed, then leaned forward to brush his lips against your forehead. "Christ, y're burnin' up, babygirl. C'mon, eat your soup and we'll take ya back home."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

If nothing else, you could trust your mates to be there to protect you.

dividers by saradika-graphics ♥

reminder to have your age in your bio/pinned before you follow me, or else I WILL block you.

also to note: this is a dark and MDNI blog. I read, reblog, and write dark and nsfw content. if that's not for you, don't follow me

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 33: What Happened After

Summary: He's a patient man, but they have a schedule to keep.

Pairings: None

Word Count: 812 words

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, brief mention of blood and injuries (the ones that happened to the reader in chapter 32), creepy behavior (kind of? it's very vague), guns and murder

A/N: Kinda more between chapters 33 and 34. You'll see.

MASTERLIST

Philip Graves is a patient man. He’s proud of his restraint, his ability to wait for the right moment. He’s opportunistic, willing to overlook morals in order to get a job done. It’s all about money in his line of work, money and building trust. Prove you can get the job done and do it well, the more contracts get offered, the more money in their pockets. 

He’s been waiting patiently for a long time. He waited almost ten years only to be denied what he wanted, what he had been promised. He had pulled the strings, done the work, and still he didn’t get what he was guaranteed. 

The fucking government made sure of that. The bullshit ‘Omega Initiative.’ Of course, at that time he didn’t know, he hadn’t understood. 

He does now. 

What a small world it really is. 

He’s patient, yet he can’t help but feel a bit agitated as he waits. He checks his watch again for the twentieth time, growing more and more annoyed. They have a tight schedule to keep. Everything has to be timed perfectly, and now they’re behind. 

He stares down at the ground, at the abandoned landing strip they’d utilized. It’s old, abandoned after the war ended and there was no more use for it. Grass grows through the cracks in the asphalt, rain and erosion pathing a way for nature to reclaim what man had destroyed. A spider crawls its way from the patch of grass, scurrying across the damp asphalt. He shifts his weight, crushing it under his boot. 

He looks up as a car approaches, some compact Ford model in an obnoxious blue. Of course he’d drive something like that. Obnoxious and noticeable. 

It’s a miracle things haven’t failed yet. 

Corporal McKinney parks on the runway, climbing out of the car. He’s dressed in civvies, looking far too smug as he pops the trunk. Phil already hates him and he hasn’t even shared words with the corporal yet. He’s nothing but a bootlicker and a weasel. Philip can respect a man who values money though, a man who will sell out to the highest bidder. He’s no better, but at least he can keep to a schedule. 

What he hates is a smug bastard, far too proud of doing the bare minimum. 

His hand itches, tempted to reach for his gun. 

He wants to wipe the smirk off McKinney’s face as he hefts the package out of his trunk. He looks far too satisfied as he approaches, as if he’s completed some medal-deserving feat, like he’s about to be rewarded some chest candy for committing several crimes. 

He’d be tried as a traitor for this at least. 

“The package as requested.” McKinney says, lowering the body off of his shoulder. 

Duran is there, slipping his arms under you and lifting you easily. Phil stares down at your face for a moment, still unconscious from the drug McKinney had injected into your system. There’s a noticeable bruise forming on your cheek, darkest right over your cheekbone. His hands close into fists, palms itching to grab his gun and shoot him right where he stands. 

His eyes catch the hole in your jeans, the blood soaked into the fabric. Bullet wound. He’s no idiot. He’s well aware of the look of those. He turns back to McKinney, annoyance making his jaw tick. “I thought our agreement was that she would be delivered unharmed.” 

“Bitch deserved it.” McKinney says far too casually, casting a glare your way. “Made my job hard.” 

Phil’s jaw clenches tighter at his words, his hand twitching for his gun. “I’m sure she did.” He says, his voice strained. “General Shepherd will be sending you payment as promised.” 

He nods for Duran to follow as he turns back towards the plane, nodding at Oz as he passes. He doesn’t even flinch as the gunshot rings out in the silence, a smile tugging at his lips. Bastard deserves it for putting his hands on you. 

It was his fate regardless. 

Duran sets you in one of the seats, buckling you in. You’re still unconscious, blissfully unaware of the world around you. He grips your chin lightly, tilting your face up. It’s been a long time since he’s seen your face. You’ve grown up a lot in the time since he’s seen you last. You had still been a kid back then, still growing out of your baby fat and into your personality. 

How much you’ve changed since then. 

The plane rumbles to life under his feet and he releases your chin. He still has a job to do. He can’t get distracted now. He shakes off the thoughts in his head, ignoring the mating bite just peeking out from the neckline of your shirt, his anger bubbling in his chest. 

That should have been his. 

You should have been his. 

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Well. A study was just published from Stanford that has shown definitively that AI tools use for hiring has a significant adverse effect on Black and Asian job applicants.

Of all applications submitted by Asian and Black applicants, 14.74% and 25.87% are submitted to positions that adversely impact Asian and Black applicants, respectively, according to U.S. employment discrimination standards.

ON TOP OF THAT, there's a phenomenon of "systemic rejection," where the AI assessment score of the applicant's resume is stored for as long as 330 DAYS and used used for EVERY APPLICATION SUBMITTED TO A COMPANY THAT IS USING THAT AI TOOL. No reassessment, no review by human HR professionals.

To everyone who has shared my aid request and sent job listings, I cannot express to you how much it means to us. To everyone still looking for work who has been having a hard time, please know that you're not doing anything wrong. Hiring managers aren't even seeing people's applications and resumes, because the AI tools are interfering so significantly.

Algorithmic Monocultures in Hiring - Stanford Digital Economy Lab

Algorithmic Monocultures in Hiring

Many employers screen job applicants with algorithms built by the same few algorithm vendors. We hypothesize that algorithmic monoculture le

[teresitaleal]

Viejos sentimientos I -102 x 61cm -2021

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