⫷ Info ⫸ You better read this before but oh well...
Haku , 20 and i go by he/him. This is my writing blog. I mostly write stuff based on random thoughts and emotions. This a male and gn reader blog, writing tag is #the river flows
DNI: ageless, blank blog & minors (-18)
Do not interact with my male reader fics if you use female pronouns, I will clearly mark the gender for everything i write
Masterlists: working on it right now
No requests or anything at the moment i work on getting back in the flow of things
I write for a lot of stuff im not gonna list it, but animes and whatever brain i focus on at the moment.
Trying to also make works for a portfolio right now so i will also post my world building and OC stuff.
The first days alone in the forest were the worst. Not because of hunger, he knew how to hunt. Not because of thirst, the forest would always provide enough water for anyone in need.
It was the silence.
No village sounds, no laughter, no fire crackling, and no pottery clinking. Even the forest felt different, heavier, as if Eywa herself was holding her breath.
At first, he never stopped moving, constantly moving forward. He would walk for hours until his legs burned, until he was out of breath, until the world around him would spin rapidly. Anything that would make him ignore the constant ache in his heart. He followed no path, only instinct, getting as far away from the smoke, from the memory.
When exhaustion finally hit him, he would struggle to climb the nearest tree, propping himself against the trunk as he sat on the widest branch he could find. He slept in short, broken stretches, bow held tightly in his hand, observing the red clay-stains on the leather grip.
His eyes would fill with tears at the quiet memory of his family. His dad. His mom. His sister. Only the thought of his sister making it somewhere safe kept him strong, telling himself he couldn't give up if she was out there, waiting for him to come save her.
Every night, he would dream of fire, of smoke, of loud explosions... Of humans destroying his home, making him wake up and ready his bow, eyes darting back and forth, the bioluminescent plants around giving him enough light to see around him.
By the first week, he stopped walking as much, taking his time to explore the area he was in, trying to decide if it was a good enough place to make a camp. He would stay for at least two to three days in one place before moving forward again, gathering fallen branches, sharp stones, and strong vines to make more arrows, filling the quiver.
His main source of food were the fruits growing everywhere he looked, occasionally catching a fish or two when the fruit provided little energy for his tired body, forging itself by survival.
The peaceful sounds of the forest made him realize one thing once he reached week two.
No one was following him, no Sky People, no people from his clan. He was alone, all by himself. It was just him and the forest.
//////
(M/n) adapted to his new life because he had to.
He began hunting small prey, mostly yerik whenever he could, but sticking to catching fish when he couldn't. He would spend a few hours by the river, letting the cool water swirl around his feet, watching the smaller fish swim around him. He would drink the rainwater gathering on the leaves, careful not to spill more than necessary.
He got jumped on a few times, had to run away from the viperwolves, watching how some of them stopped breathing as he struck them with his bow.
He patched his wounds the best he could on his own, crushing herbs he remembered from watching his mother and Rina, alongside the healers of the village. Some of them healed nicely, getting more practice in how to do it correctly, the scars that began covering his body shone with a silver lining that shone under the light, while others stayed a dark purple on his blue skin.
Each day, he spoke less and less, sometimes whispering his sister's name into the dark, hoping that Eywa would hear him and would help him find his sister again. And sometimes... he whispered nothing at all.
By the third and fourth week, his body had changed. He was leaner and tougher, his movements quieter, his eyes sharper. The boy who was raised to lead gently with his words was being reshaped into someone who could survive alone.
He hated what he was turning into, but... he had no choice on the matter, so he chose to accept it.
Fifth and sixth weeks weren't that much different, he was getting better at telling apart the animal noises, recognizing healing herbs, poison plants, and which fruits he could eat. He continued making pottery whenever his previous one cracked or broke, half-expecting to hear his mother's voice whenever the clay would collapse in his hand, telling him not to force it and be gentle with it, but there was deafening silence. He made his own clothing, got a new loincloth, and made a shawl.
Every day was the same, over and over again, and he felt himself fade slowly. He wasn't the same (M/n) he was before all of this happened, he began to lose faith and empathy. He felt nothing, and it was scary. How hadn't he spotted a single Na'vi after so long? He didn't know but maybe he was heading in the wrong direction, or was just advancing in circles.
By week seven, he no longer counted the days.
Not because it didn't matter to him anymore, but rather because everything began to feel like lies. Time moved strangely when there was no one to measure it with. The sun would rise, the forest would be alive, he would wake up, hunt, eat, and back to sleep, and that was it. Nothing else.
He found a place where the trees grew tall and close together, their branches overlapping and creating a larger place to walk. From up there, he could see without being seen, and that new habit came naturally to him, settling in his bones as if he had always known how to disappear from sight.
Due to this, he spent more time climbing than walking.
From the place high in the trees, the forest made more sense to him, he could track the movements of animals without disturbing them, follow the slow path the river made, watch the clouds drift slowly over the canopy. Sometimes, he would stay up there for hours, legs drawn in, back pressed against the chipped bark, bow held in his hand, resting on top of his knees, focused on listening to every little sound around him.
It felt safer that way, quieter.
He told himself he preferred it that way, the stillness and the isolation.
But at some point, as he kept advancing, his eyes caught signs of others. Other Na'vi.
A snapped branch too clean to have been ripped by an animal. A faint trail where the grass bent the wrong way. And, the unmistakable echo of distant voices, carried over by the wind.
Each time, his body reacted before his thoughts did, his muscles tightening, breath caught, heart pounding painfully against his ribs, and he never followed the sounds.
Instead, he climbed higher, moved farther, let the forest swallow him whole again, not feeling ready to be found, to answer questions he didn't know how to voice.
When the sky darkened, he no longer dreamed as much, no fire or smoke haunted his unconscious mind anymore, and he was no longer woken up by the sound of his sister desperately calling out his name. What woke him up was the silence of the forest, so deep it pressed against his ears until they rang.
He spoke only once that week.
Sitting on the edge of the river, watching the water sway and the fish swimming by and disturbing his reflection on the crystal water, "I'm still here..." he whispered to himself, feeling the wind slightly pick up and messing with his braids, making him sigh and reach up to fix them in place with a leather cord.
//////
One morning, while gathering fruit near a shallow stream, (M/n) noticed something different.
Birdsong cut short too often, small animals darted into cover without a clear reason. His mismatched eyes tracked the movement instinctively, following patterns he'd learned through observation in the past two months.
That was when he caught a scent. The particular scent of Na'vi. And it was fresh, so they were nearby.
His first instinct was to leave.
Turning around and silently rushing to the nearest tree, he climbed quickly, not making a sound, and setteling on the upper branches of the tree, overlooking a natural path through the forest. From there, he waited, heart pounding hard enough he feared it might give him away.
They came into view less than two minutes later. Four of them. Friends or siblings, he wasn't quite sure.
Two boys walked ahead, seemingly close in age, maybe a year or two apart, their voices overlapping as they laughed and shoved at each other, wrestling playfully as they walked, hands grabbing shoulders, tails flicking with exaggerated irritation. He spotted that both of them carried a knife at their hip, the handle worn, showing frequent use, but kept in its place, safely tucked away.
Behind them walked a girl, also around the same age as the boys, walking in the forest with a subtle sway. She looked like she was hearing something no one else could see, or was simply admiring the bright green forest, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, watchful.
(M/n) followed her line of sight and spotted the fourth and last Na'vi. It was a younger girl, way younger than the first three, she lagged behind, humming softly and chuckling to herself as she played with the fauna around her, touching plants and playing with them.
That's when he heard the older girl's voice, laced with impatience and concern. "Tuk, come on."
The little girl groaned and stumped her way toward them, closer than before but still a good distance behind.
(M/n) stayed still, eyes following their movements with quiet focus. He noted the easy way they moved together, the unspoken understanding between them, he could see they hadn't quite yet learned fear, or maybe they refused to let it live within them.
He continued staring at them for a few moments, loosening his grip on his bow, relaxing a bit as he saw them walk away. But he couldn't relax for too long, for he heard an odd breathing, non-na'vi. His eyes scouted the area, spotting what seemed to be an exiled viperwolf, kicked out of their cackle, with a few wounds visible on the surface of its skin. Clearly, it was hungry, possibly weak, and it seemed to have found the perfect prey.
The little girl at the back of the group.
The viperwolf inched closer, low to the mossy ground of the forest, steps careful and sharp fangs peeking through. (M/n) tightened his grip on his bow and drew back the arrow in his left hand. He shifted his weight, breath steadying as his sight narrowed to a single line, waiting for the viperwolf to jump from behind the tree it was hiding.
He watched as the little girl stopped, yet again, to play with a plant, and his sight shifted back to the viperwolf when he heard its subtle, rumbly growl. He held his breath and prepared to release the arrow...
The instant the viperwolf jumped, the arrow left his fingers without a sound. It cut through the air cleanly, precisely, striking the animal in between its eyes, stopping it in its tracks, falling limp to the mossy ground.
The forest grew quiet.
The little girl fell back, hands holding her weight up behind her, a scream escaping her, big yellow eyes bright with tears and filled with fear. Her reaction caught the attention of the older girl and both boys, who instantly drew their knives out, bodies snapping into defensive stances as they searched for a threat that was no longer alive.
The older girl was on the ground by the little girl in an instant, kneeling beside her and holding her gently, calming her quiet sobs. (M/n) heard her sniffing, while she was quietly being shushed.
"Tuk, you okay?" she asked, her voice steady but sharp.
The little one nodded, wiping the stray tears that dripped down her cheeks, frightened eyes staring at the fallen viperwolf, "It was gonna bite me," she whispered.
(M/n) remained still on the branch above, hiding himself with the hanging leaves, casting dark shadows on his blue body. His bow was lowered to his side, placing another arrow and holding it on the string, on guard for the possibility of another predator nearby. He felt his heart hammering painfully against his chest, not from the kill, that part had become easy with the passing weeks, he wasn't proud of that, but it was what he had grown used to. His quick heartbeat was caused by how close he'd come to being seen.
That's when he noticed how the girl, who was quietly comforting the little one, suddenly stopped, looking around the canopy with intense attention.
She didn't look at the dead viperwolf. She didn't look at the boys.
Her gaze swept the forest, not scanning, not searing, just... looking. Observing.
Directly at him.
His breath caught in his throat, body tensing and grip tightening.
He knew damn well he was well hidden where he was, and that was the only reason he had chosen that spot in particular, with the position of his body where no wandering sight could spot him. No one should have been able to see him up there, especially from how far down the strangers were.
But her eyes didn't waver, despite his best effort at trying to be invisible.
"I can see you up there," she said quietly, gently stroking the little one's short braids.
Her words weren't accusatory, and they weren't afraid. They sounded more like a statement of fact, spoken to the forest itself.
Both boys followed her light of sight immediately, heads snapping upward, their bodies tensing and grips tightening around their knives. One of them, the taller one, took half a step forward, placing himself between himself and the others, fingers adjusting around the leather grip of his knife.
(M/n) hesitated for a short moment, quickly deciding there was no point in pretending he wasn't there. He got spotted, how? He didn't know, but maybe the trajectory of the arrow gave away his general position.
With a deep breath, he took a step to the side, letting the sunlight touch his skin. He moved carefully, deliberately, until his outline became visible amongst the branches, revealing himself to the group of four.
He didn't make a move to descend from his spot, instead, he silently bowed his head slight, accompanied by the movement of his hand lifted to his forehead, before lowering in a quiet, respectful greeting.
No words came out of his mouth, just acknowledgment.
The girl's eyes softened, a small grin pulling on her lips.
The smallest one tilted her head to look up at him too, curiosity quickly overtaking fear, "He saved me," she said, certainty ringing in her voice as a smile also grew on her face, the tears no longer blurring her eyes.
He watched as the shorter boy glanced behind the little girl, eyes widening at the arrow nudged in between the viperwolf's eyes, stunned by the accuracy of his shot despite the distance, the incline, the velocity, the angle...
"Nice shot..." he muttered to himself as he glanced back up at him. (M/n) didn't react, he was glad he saved someone, but he wasn't pleased with taking an innocent life, right thing or not. Knowing it went against his clan's belief, of letting predators hunt prey, as they also deserved a chance at surviving on their own.
After that, the girl stood up, helping the little one off the mossy ground as well, keeping a protective arm around her, not a single pair of eyes looking away from him, making his jaw clench at the unwanted attention. "Thank you," the girl's voice made him look at her in the eyes, and he saw curiosity shining in her yellow eyes, along with something else he wasn't sure how to name.
He couldn't dwell on it too long because the words she uttered settled on his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.
It reminded him that such a small thing as an 'irayo' wasn't unfamiliar, he used to hear it pretty much every day at least five times before the first meal at his village. It reminded him of all the times he would bring clay back to the village, how potters would thank him for the hefty supply he would bring back, meaning their work would be done in time.
He felt a knot in his throat as he remembered his sister, realizing the shorter boy was probably around his age.
A subtle movement caught his eye, the little girl was waving at him with a cheeky smile on her face. For a moment, he hesitated, but ultimately he mirrored her action, his hand releasing the string and flicking his fingers subtly.
He took that wave as a cue to leave. He put the arrow back in the quiver and fixed his bow across his chest, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "Hey, wait-."
Swiftly yet quietly, he took a step back and turned around, taking a light jog as he ran and jumped from branch to branch. Behind him, he heard footsteps and muffled voices.
"Hey-!" Grabbing onto a hanging vine, he swung upward toward an even higher branch, balancing on it and pressing his back against the rough bark of the tree, his mismatched eyes keeping a lookout below him, where the boys were standing, looking around at the canopy with a confused frown on their faces.
"Where did he...?" The tallest one trailed on, braids swaying as his gaze swept around the trees.
"I have no idea, bro," the reply he got made both of them huff, deciding to turn back around and head back to the girls.
Slowly, (M/n) followed behind them, just to make sure they got back together and were safe. Crouching, he took a deep breath and watched how the boys talked to the girl about how they had lost sight of him. She frowned and looked back up at the spot where they first saw him standing at.
She said something to them, but her voice was so soft and quiet that he couldn't understand what she said, and after that, keeping the little girl closer and more protected, they continued on their way, the mumbling of their voices fading with each step they took. (M/n) sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the bright morning sky through the leaves above him.
For a few minutes, he wondered if he would see the group of four again. Why did he want to know? He wasn't sure. He didn't know if he wanted to be alone or... have some company after such a long time.
Life in the Hulanta clan was quiet, still, where the forest loosened its grip and the water swayed like the breeze.
The trees around their home stood tall, like every other tree in Pandora, but their roots were submerged in the slow river water, releasing a misty breath back into the air at the crack of dawn. The leaves were broader, greener and thicker, the ground they walked was soft with clay and dirt. A place where the wind moved through the branches, not with a howl or whistle, but instead it exhaled. Like a breath held almost too long.
(M/n) te Tsngan grew up believing this was what Pandora was meant to sound like, where every morning began with a breath.
Not prayers, not words, but the simple act of standing at the river's edge as the misty wind curled around ankles and swaying tails, elders and children alike closing their eyes as the day greeted them in silence. (M/n) learned early that silence was not emptiness, it was attention.
As the morning moved on, people would scatter around, some going in the river to bring back hefty supply of clay, others bringing broad-leaf containers of the same river water, and a small group of people went hunting for breakfast.
He had walked out of his tent to spot his mother, Seyra, working on clay as others around her worked wood or sinew, needing to get stuff ready for when the Tlalim clan arrived, exchanging supplies they may need with their hard work, anything that could help other clans in need.
Ever since he could remember, his mother would have her hands stained a red-brown colour, the colour of the riverbanks, sometimes even staining him on accident or purposefully when he wouldn't let her work in peace as a child. Her fingers were strong and gentle all at once, putting special care and love in everything she created.
(M/n) would usually sit beside or across from her, knees drawn up as he watched how her hands worked the clay, shaping it into something sturdy and hard, while keeping it beautiful and delicate.
"Do not force it," she would murmur whenever he was willing to learn a thing or two, "Clay will show you how it wants to be, you must listen to it, feel it."
The way she described pottery to him helped him understand it, and he no longer threw away a piece that crumbled apart in his hands. He learned patience, gentleness and creativity, his pottery -while rare to see- becoming the most wanted in the village and for people outside their clan.
His father, Ralun, was olo'eyktan not because he was loud, fierce or a strong warrior, but because people listened when he spoke, and because he spoke only when necessary. He carried no war scars, no trophies, and his authority lived in steadiness. Whenever dispute rose, he let silence stretch until the anger burned itself out.
(M/n) was expected to follow him one day...
The thought was both grounding and terrifying.
Hulanta clan was not a warrior clan, they were creators, weavers, potters... But never warriors. Or they weren't until the first war that hit Pandora against the Sky People.
He was good with the bow, better than most Hulant children, but it was never celebrated. For them, hunting was a necessity, not something to be proud of. Whenever he brought back fish or small forest prey, it was placed quietly with the others, his gaze avoiding eye contact before going off to wash off any remnants of blood on his skin or clothing.
His sister, Tìlan, liked to follow him everywhere he went.
She was only a few years younger than him, close enough that their lives braided together naturally. Unlike him, she didn't have mismatched eyes like his, but she had bright green eyes that shone a slightly yellow hue whenever the eclipse hit Pandora, and she had a habit of humming under her breath when she worked, soft enough that you felt it rather than heard it, a habit she got from their mother. Every night, she would sleep with her tail wrapped loosely around (M/n)'s ankle, as if anchoring herself to him. And he let her.
In the evenings, the clan gathered not to boast or spar, but to make. Together, sharing a bonding time for everyone to de-stress or chat, while the leaders spoke about anything that needed fixing around their home.
They were surrounded by weaving frames that lined their huts, pottery cooled near the fires, songcords were being untagled, repaired, added to. (M/n) had learned the meaning of knots before he learned the meaning of scars.
Joy was a spiral. Grief was a tight bind. Survival was a knot that refused to slip. A quiet lyric leaving his lips, too shy to let anyone know what his songcord spoke.
Sometimes, travelers came by the Wetlands, visited the Hulanta clan, usually Na'vi from other clans, those who weren't the Tlalim clan, carrying news from deeper in the forest where the Omatikaya lived, or from the distant mountains like the Tayrangi or Kekunan. And sometimes, the news carried the echo of a word that made elders grow still.
Sky People.
During the first war against the Sky People, (M/n) was a young boy, too young to fight, but old enough to remember the sky burning. He remembered Toruk Makto, not as a legend but as a man with strange hands, and tired, small eyes. His mind shows him images of being lifted in his mother's arms as Jake Sully smiled down at him, warm and bewildered as (M/n) reached his small hand and said, in a small, broken voice, "Toruh... Ma-to."
Jake Sully had laughed softly as his poor attempt at speaking and taken his tiny hand, four fingers wrapped gently around three.
That memory lived quietly in (M/n)'s chest, remembering the man who brought the clans to victory against the Sky People, the man who had saved his home. The man who brought peace.
//////
The day before the attack was unremarkable. And that was the cruelty of it.
The forest woke as it always did, the thick wind low over the river's surface, swirling their ankles and swaying the plants. The birds flew to branches, high on the trees, wings stirring and shacking the leaves where the mist had gathered in the night, drops falling on the dirt below as they called out to each other and announced the morning sun as it shone down on their village. Nothing was weird, nothing was odd. There was no warning, not even in the way the water swayed, making ripples whenever something fell in it.
It was like any other day, quiet, calm and easy.
(M/n) spent the morning repairing fishing nets alongside his sister Tìlan, their fingers working in a quiet rhythm, though at different skills level. She fumbled the knots every once in a while, her tongue peeking out in concentration, and (M/n) would grin, gently correcting her with a gentle tap of his knuckles against her wrist, not a word said between them. She would click her tongue in mild annoyance at getting it wrong and tried again.
And whenever she finally got a section right, she would lift the net triumphantly, eyes bright and smile wide.
At that, he would give her a small nod, gentle smile showing soft and unspoken pride.
At midday, he walked down the riverbank with Rina, the girl chose to one day stand beside him as tsahìk. She carried a woven basket made out of stripped thick vine, half of it already filled with herbs pulled from the shallows. He carried a net with the hunt he got for lunch and dinner, heavy on his shoulders, telling him he got enough food for the whole village to be beyond full.
They walked leisurely side by side at an easy pace, close but never touching.
"You are restless," she said after a long while, her voice low as she kept her eyes glued to their hometree.
(M/n) shrugged, gaze locked on the flowing river, a tight feeling in his chest, a feeling he couldn't shake off since the moment he woke up despite trying to ignore it.
"Something feels... odd," he mumbled, fidgeting with the cord around his neck, his fingers touching the rugged fang of a thanatos, "I feel change."
At his words, Rina stopped, turning her head to look at him, her green eyes locked on the way he played with his necklace, the sunlight shining through the layers of green, "Change does not always mean danger," she replied gently, fixing her grip on her basket.
He glanced at her briefly, wanting to believe her. He truly wanted to believe it.
As hours passed, the clan had gathered supplies in quiet efficiency. Clay was hauled from the riverbed, water carried in their leaf containers, freshly made pottery set aside to cool. The sight helped to slightly ease (M/n)'s mind, finding comfort in the routine of the village, knowing what to expect, and changing accordingly.
Nothing told him there was something wrong, nothing said something bad was going to happen, and yet, right after their nightly meal, his father spoke longer than usual that evening.
He watched his father stand near the fire, the glow painting his features in warm gold, his voice calm but firm as it carried across the gathering of the people.
He didn't speak of war, he didn't speak of fear. He spoke of preparedness.
He subtly reminded them of old paths through the wetlands, speaking about old memories of joyful times, as well as dark times, he spoke of how to move without sound if needed, of keeping tools close, of making sure the young ones knew where to run if ever the forest grew loud again, if the sky ever was set ablaze again. Ralun's gaze lingered on (M/n) only once, brief but weighted.
He wishes he didn't, but he understood what his father wanted to convey to him.
We may not be as lucky this time.
That night, sleep kept escaping him, he felt the tiredness of his body but his mind was racing, unable to let him sleep for longer than a couple minutes if at all. His sister hummed softly beside him, her voice beginning to fade as she fell asleep, her tail curling instinctively around his ankle. (M/n) laid awake, staring at the darkened roof of their hut, fingers tracing the beginning of his songcord.
For a moment, he hesitated before tying a new knot, deciding to wait a bit longer.
The feeling in his chest had come back, worse than its been that day, the whistling of the wind through the leaves of the hometree didn't help him calm down, if anything, they put him more on edge.
He closed his eyes tightly, and took a sharp breath, keeping a tight grip on his songcord as he forced himself to close his eyes, trying to empty his mind and fall asleep at once.
He didn't know when he drifted off to sleep, but he woke up with a sharp inhale, heart pounding in his ears as if he had been running for hours on end. Frantic eyes and blurry sight scouted the area around him, everything was still the same, the dim interior of the hut, the faint scent of clay and dried leaves, Tìlan's quiet breathing beside him, and the slowly clearing sky of Pandora.
He took a deep breath and ruffled his hair, sitting up on his hammock, deciding to start the day right then since he had already woken up, and he felt like he needed some time alone to ease his racing mind, the sensation from the previous day still strong in his body and mind. And the way he woke up so abruptly wasn't helping.
He reached his hands up to his hair, sliding his braids through the leather cord around his wrist, tying them tightly. And then, before he could stand up, it happened.
The forest screamed.
It wasn't thunder. It wasn't the wind. It was something that brought a chill down his spine, a feeling of dread causing every muscle in his body to tense.
A piercing, metallic shriek ripped through the air of Pandora, so loud it seemed to split the sky itself open. The sound traveled through the ground, sending vibrations through the roots of the hometree, through each bone in his body.
The sound caused birds to scatter in frantic burst, their wings flapping violently against the air as shadows passed overhead, shadows that looked wrong, moved too fast, too sharp against the top of the trees. The river churned unnaturally, ripples crashing against its banks as if something massive had disturbed its natural flow.
Then, they were hit with a particular scent.
Burning sap, scorched leaves. Something acrid and foresight that burned lungs when inhaled.
He didn't need to be a genius to know what was going on. His ancestors had shown him what had happened decades ago through Eywa in the Tree of Echoes, the memories of their screaming, their fear, their curiosity, and their hate had burned themselves in his brain too, and he feared the past would repeat itself.
The Sky People were back in Pandora.
(M/n) rushed to get up from his hammock, stumbling on his feet before his mind could catch up on what was going, his fingers reaching for the fishing spear he forgot to put away the previous night. Outside, the village erupted, not in war cries, not in challenging or mad hisses, but in gasps and shouts of confusion as the fire destroyed everything green on its path.
Metal flying beasts tore through the sky, raining destruction from above, leaves catching on fire, branches breaking off and falling, flames spreading dangerously close to their home.
"Run!" someone far ahead cried out, his voice breaking with fear and desperation, urging women, kids and elders to flee their hometree as quickly as they could.
Despite everyone running away from the relentless fire-breathing metallic bird, (M/n) saw his father stand forward. He pushed through the chaos, arms raised, voice steady even as fire fell around him. Sky people descending from the flying machine into walking machines that made them reach Na'vi height, "Stop!" he called out, words pushing over the roaring sound of alien machinery, "We do not seek conflict. We will leave-"
The piercing, sharp sound of thunder made everyone around scream in terror as they watched their clan leader fall to the ground.
Before he could fully process what he witnessed, a blast struck their hometree with a violence that shook the ground beneath (M/n)'s feet, sending a shockwave through their village. Screams got impossibly louder, raw screams of pain, terror, and suffering, watching their home get destroyed by the Sky People once again.
He moved without thinking, grip on his spear tight and strong, hitting away one of their thunder weapons off the metallic hands of their creation, using all the strength he had to break through the transparent sheet keeping the alien safe from the Pandora air.
He briefly watched as the human scrambled to grab something, the masks they would wear on their faces to survive on this planet, and he couldn't allow that to happen. He took the spear out and impaled the male through the sheet, watching how he struggled and cried as the life left his eyes, falling on the ground and letting (M/n) see just how many more there were coming up from behind it.
He clicked his tongue and tried to pick his spear up from the ground, but projectiles flew past him, some shots gracing his skin but most of them missed, and he crouched, staggering to find anything he could cover himself with.
His mismatched eyes looked toward his dad, watching his body lying lifeless on the grass, and he had to blink away the tears that began gathering in his eyes, and further behind, at the entrance of Hometree, was his mother. "Mom..." he whispered as he scrambled to move toward her, watching her grip her bow tightly in her hands, drawing the string back as her eyes darted directly at him.
The arrow she fired graced his shoulder, and he heard the arrow impact on something hard, followed by a dry thud on the ground. He glanced over his shoulder to see another walking machine on the ground, his mother's arrow pierced through the transparent sheet.
He took that moment to run at his mother, who kept firing her arrows as she provided cover for her son, and she stopped the moment he made it inside. She moved to cover behind a wall across from Lî'on and Tìlan. She watched as her daughter held tightly onto her brother's arm, and she took a deep breath, "Son," she got his attention, and his mismatched eyes stared at her, "I want you to run, far away from here, as far as you can..." The sound of their weapons filled their ears, leaving a buzzing sound as they covered their face from the flying pieces of wood, "Take your sister, protect her."
The firing stopped, and she drew her bow back again, firing one last arrow before reaching for her quiver and tossing her at her son, who caught in the air.
"Go, live, both of you..." She handed him her bow, and pushed them gently toward the back entrance of the Hometree, she smiled at them one last time before stepping outside, mouthing an 'i love you' to her children, becoming a clear target for the Sky People.
"Mom... Mom!" Tìlan screamed as she tried to go after her mother, but (M/n) held her back, lifting her off the ground, and running away from the main entrance of the Hometree, "Mom-!" his sister kept calling for their mother, and he gripped the bow tightly in his free hand, unable to stop the tears that dripped down his face.
He ran until he was out of their home, and he put his sister down, holding her hand instead, "Tì'i, please run," she stumbled for a moment before running behind her brother, flinching at the loud booming sounds coming from the Sky People.
Smoke began spreading quickly, the burning smell of the forest, of their home, making them cough as they struggled to run a straight path without having to avoid a fallen tree or a wild animal running past them. Heat seared their skin as they ran through the collapsing structures and falling branches. Then there was a big explosion, throwing them off balance.
The force of it hit (M/n)'s side and sent him tumbling to the ground, releasing his sister's hand to avoid a harder impact. He tripped as he got up, coughing and reaching back for Tìlan, whose crying hadn't ceased.
Then a second explosion came even closer to them. Louder.
He watched how his sister stumbled, slipping off and sliding toward the river. "Tìlan!" Her name torn from his throat, his voice drowned by all the sounds around them. He moved forward, determined to go save his sister, but a human began approaching him, weapong raised at him.
He drew a sharp breath and readied the bow, drawing the string back and firing the arrow, piercing through and hitting the human in the middle of her chest. Again, he attempted to go with Tìlan, but the firing toward him began after the first human fell, three walking machines stepping toward him, and he was forced to fall back, running the same way he had been heading to, this time alone.
"Sorry, Tì'i..."
///////
He wasn't sure how long he had been running, all he knew was that the sun was at its highest point in the sky when his legs gave out from under his weight. He gasped for air and lay face up on the cool mossy dirt, staring at the canopy as it spinned, feeling dizzy and disoriented.
His whole body trembled and tingled, his mouth was dry and he felt drips of sweat sliding down his skin on the soil. He closed his eyes tightly, groaning as his head pounded and the spinning sensation continued while in the darkness.
Then, as his breathing steadied, he heard it.
The deafening silence of the forest. It was too quiet. Too still.
His eyes opened again and he slowly sat up, getting a good look around. He wasn't quite sure where he was, but it seemed he was close to the limits of the Hulanta clan, about to enter new territory, unclaimed by the Na'vi, and then... Eywa knows where he was heading next.
For now, he had to survive... And find Tìlan. His little sister was probably so scared all on her own, and... That was the best-case scenario, because he didn't want to think about what could have happened to his baby sister. Everything was normal, almost perfect the previous day and now... He had lost it all. In a matter of seconds.
(M/n) sighed and stood up with great difficulty, his legs were not cooperating with him but he pushed his body to continue moving forward. Maybe he could find another clan and seek refuge amongst them, plead for uturu while he found a new purpose in his life.
With that plan in mind, he swallowed harshly, and moved forward, hoping to find anything- anyone, soon.
And somewhere behind him, the Hulanta clan became but a distant memory.
Tumult, voices, music. Noise in every corner of the building.
Needing to breath for a moment and clear my head, I step outside onto the porch. The sky is clear. Moon bright up high. I take a deep breath. Fog as I exhale
"Nice and quiet out here"
I just hum in answer.
Arms hug me from behind, "Its nice you know. That you are here."
"I missed you all." I lean back into his embrace. "But I´ve been gone so long. Do i even deserve to be here anymore? To be with you?"
A low chuckle. "Of course silly. We still love you. It was chaotic and messy. But now you are back"
"What if I leave again?"
"You will always come back to us. Or at least you can. I'm waiting for you at least"
I look up, those sparkling eyes looking down at me. He still hugs me. Nice and tight and warm. Safe.
you need to make more self-indulgent art btw. hyper-specific self-indulgent niche shit that appeals to You Specifically and maybe nobody else will get it or even like it but that's the point.
Thank you @kl125 for tagging me for this little gif challenge!!! I love doing things like this, so it's always pretty awesome.
So, I'm supposed to list my top 10 favorite movies and provide a gif for each and then tag 10 blogs!! Each of those will be in no particular order, tbh, because I'm not really able to choose between them, with the exception of the very first one, tbh
1.) Alice In Wonderland, my all time favorite ever. I love both the live action and the cartoon ones equally, tbh
I know it's not 10 blogs, but I couldn't really think of anyone else who might be interested in doing this. But anyone who sees this and wants to do it totally can and if you're tagged and don't wanna do it, you don't have to at all, so no worries!!!
Oooooh this is so cutee! I'm actually so honoured that you tagged me in this, so thank you @dxncingwithastrxnger 🫶
Resident Evil Vendetta (my guilty pleasure for Leon..)
2. Suicide Squad 2016
3. Anastasia 😩🫶
4. Halloween 2018 (Michael.)
5. Spiral (can you guess I like horror yet?)
6. Grown Ups
7. The Princess and The Frog (should be higher up but oh well)
8. Madagascar (THE GOAT OF ANIMAL MOVIES)
9. Rio (beautiful movie)
10. Bolt (this was so goated omg)
I swear I have so many more movies but there are my weird faves that scratch my brain in all the right places. Lowkey would do a part 2 but nahhh. Not exactly sure who to tag but wtv
sometimes writing isn’t about talent. sometimes it’s about sitting in your chair and suffering for 45 minutes until a single sentence crawls out of your skull
I know I haven't been writing/posting much of anything for several months, but I just wanted to let you all know, my commissions are open, and they will most likely remain open for a while, I'm not taking requests, mostly because I'm busy with other things, but as I said, commissions take priority so I will make time to write them and post them ☺️
Here's the commissions rules if anyone is interested, and here's my Ko-fi~.
.
I'm trying to get back to writing but also need to earn money to be able to have more independence, and while I would love to just write out requests, I have not been feeling motivated enough to write anything unless I have to.
Sukuna starting out as a viewer that then starts buying Gojo the toys on his wishlist to use on future streams, then eventually starts paying for private calls with Gojo.
Gojo notices a pattern, and teases him about it, pointing out that Sukuna only buys him the more girthy/longer toys. Asks Sukuna if he's trying to turn Gojo into a size queen. He tells Gojo it's just easier to imagine its his cock when the toy is bigger.
Intrigued, Gojo asks just how big he is. The chat goes silent for a minute and he thinks he might have scared him off. While Sukuna doesn't donate anonymously to his streams, anytime they have a private call Sukuna doesn't use the voice chat and prefers to type instead, so he figures even Sukuna has his reservations.
He is then greeted with a brief *sukuna is typing* before a picture loads in of what might be the biggest cock he's ever seen. He'd almost be convinced it's a realistic toy if it weren't for the pink hair he could see at the base of it.
Oh he wants it so bad. It's nice and thick, prominent veins with a nice curve, surely able to hit all the right spots inside him and stretch him out perfectly. Gojo doesn't realize he's practicality drooling until another message from Sukuna pops up: "like what ya see?"
Gojo tells him very much so and he wishes he had a toy just like it. A few week later Sukuna dms him that he should be getting a large package in his PO box. Thinking its another toy like normal, he tells him he can't wait to open it. When he finally gets the package home, Gojo can't believe his eyes when he opens it.
It's a clone of Sukuna's cock. And it's even bigger in person.
Without a further thought he goes into his studio and gets his set up ready. But instead of streaming, he just sets it to film, and creates a video of himself and the toy. All the way from having to slowly stretch himself out to the point he finally takes it all the way to the base, letting his eyes rolling back in his head once he finally does. He can't help but take a cheeky side view pic of it, gently poking at the bugle it leaves just below his belly button.
He dms the picture to Sukuna with a cheeky "loving the gift so far ;)" before throwing his phone to the side, not bothering to wait for the response.
He proceeds to fuck himself on it, and it's one of the quickest orgasms he's had. He's use to edging himself, putting on a show for his fans, not fantasizing about anything in particular during his streams. This time however he can't help but try to picture the man this cock belongs to. Was he massive like his cock? How big were his hands and how would they feel on Gojo's skin? Was he a gentle lover? A rough one? What did his voice sound like?
Lying in the afterglow of an orgasm that hit him like a truck, he decides he has to meet Sukuna. He has to fuck the real thing.
Phainon and Mydei in the bathhouse, sharing a bath together
Soft skin, slowly caresed by his star, his messenger
A warriors skin should be rough and worn by many battles thought. Yet as he caresed it, explored what was his, it was soft and yielding. A moment sacred for both their hearts.
The water was glowing. Eyes fixed on each other and yet looking so much deeper than what should be possible.
So close, yet not enough. Hearts that were meant to beat together.
Fingers kept exploring. Seeking that connection.
Thumb meets soft lips and beyond. Tongue wraps around. Teasing and tasting. Commiting the taste of a star to his memory.
It was a game, tetering on the cliff to become something more. Something unreversable both feared. Knowing what lies ahead, what is to come.
Commit now and all can be lost or stop and never know what it would be like
So the waters rippled as the hearts got even closer. Soft lips on lips.
A star so close could be burning but for the crimson Lion it was a pleasant warmth.
Like a familiar warm day. Like the sun he knew since he was just a cub. Like the love he helt in his heart.
The star too seeks the closure. Shining brighter when he ever did.
A heartbeat and the distance is closed. Soft and gentle.
Hearts beating together knowing they will be forever intertwined.
I write this for someone so read if you want i guess but you are not that person
Warm fuzzy rays of light through the curtains, birds chirping as the sun is coming up and crisp Spring air outside making the bed only more comfortable.
Even so when you are entwined with someone. Tamaki stired first staring right at his lovely boyfriend, his cute curls framing his face and that little scrunched noise in his sleep.
Tamaki smiled and press soft kisses to his boyfriends noise.
"The sun is up"
(Reader) stired but only groaned annoyed pulling the blanket tighter.
"Its a Friday...we dont have to get up early..."
Tamaki chuckled and pressed more kisses all over his boyfriends face.
"Oh? But you know what day today is right? Or do i need to cancel my plans?"
More grumbles, (Reader) hugged Tamakis neck and pulled him back to cuddle.
"Does 5 more minutes in that plan truly ruin the whole day?"
"No...they dont", Tamaki whispered and kissed (Reader) properly.
"Nothing could ruin this day."
Gently Tamaki rubbed (Reaeder)s cheek and gazed at his boyfriend lightly dozing off again. Tamaki could only swoon how he got so lucky, to have the most sweetest and incredible boyfriend to ever exist.
"You truly are my weakness.", Tamaki whispered and cuddled back up to (Reader)
"Dream some more about us my Love"
Some Minutes passed before Tamaki got out of bed. He knew (Reader) wouldnt get up anytime soon, so he went to the kitchen to get breakfast started.
The air filled with the smell of breakfast and the fresh air coming in through the windows.
Tamaki prepared everything and then got his boyfriend out of bed.
They both ate in a comfortable silence, only the birds outside chirping and a soft breeze in the trees.
It was a day just for them, so it was spend in time together and just being with each other.
They cuddled back up under the blankets and put on the most recent show.
"I wish every day was like this. Just us"
Tamaki whispered against (Reader)s neck.
"You are my everything Angel. There was no greather thing then finding you."
(Reader) blushes with a big smile
"I love you too Tamaki"
A kiss to seal the promise of a perfect day.
Spend to cherish having each other.
