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(this is gon be a long one sry!!) but could i get a mako (lok) x fem hybrid reader where she is a hybrid of a human and a dragon (n she’s a airbender) n her kind has brought despair to most people in the past so they treat her like she’s unwanted but lin basically takes her in as her child then she gets like hurt really badly in battle,, sry if it’s confusing or anything!! i thought of this at like 2am so sry if it’s stupid

Mako with Dragon!Hybrid Airbender Reader (Legend of Korra Headcanons)

*GIF not mine* 

A/N: Honestly, this is one of the best things I’ve ever written. Thank you so much for requesting it, as it made me feel a lot more confident in my abilities. This idea was great, so don’t feel bad about it! I made it headcanons, but it turned into a scenario anyway, so I hope you enjoy! (Side note: Thanks for 1.5k followers!)

Word count: 2485

As a hybrid, you were used to the abuse. Abandoned on your streets by horrified parents, you knew how it felt to be abandoned and alone, hated for no reason. The horrible things your ancestors did somehow reflected onto you as you tried to live in the streets of Republic City.

Fighting for food or territory on the streets was always hard; people would take one look at you, see the telltale shifting eyes of a dragon hybrid, and scream at you till you ran for the hills. On your back was only your stolen airbending staff and your ability to shapeshift to keep you alive.

It was on a cold winter night that Lin found you at the age of fourteen, shivering and half-dead, with your eyes shifting rapidly with a plea to change forms to survive. You refused, and barely conscious, you had no will to fight when the Chief of Police led you back to her own home. 

From then on, it was like you had a mother again. Though she was hardened to most emotions and rarely ever provided a true warmth, she loved you in her own way. There were times when she would scold you to tears, only to come home later with a small charm or treat as an apology. 

She taught you how to use your abilities as best as she could, scouring up airbending scrolls and researching books in the city’s library to learn more about your kind. Lin was eager to be a mother, no matter how much she would deny it in front of others. Deep down, she wanted to make up for her own mother’s mistakes, and in doing so, she became fiercely protective over you. Boys, school, even the occasional social interaction kept Lin on the tips of her toes, wanting to keep you safe but also wanting you to become a strong young woman. 

It was four years later that you met Mako, and he was almost as aloof as Lin. Every time he saw you, he would either greet you formally with a head nod or completely ignore your existence. 

You spent your pastime at the police station, reading through cases or reorganizing files, doing whatever you could get your hands on really. In these times, that’s when Mako would watch you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes would flutter and gleam with excitement as you read through criminals’ stories, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable. 

In the pit of his chest, he felt an urge to talk to you, get to know you better. So greetings turned into personal questions. Questions turned into lunchtime conversations. Lunchtime conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into a relationship. 

As the first guy you had ever really talked to, you were kind of nervous around him. Blushes and anxious glances weren’t uncommon on your end, but Mako loved to see them. 

One day, he returned from a particularly dangerous mission and stomped into the station looking like a mess. His hair was ruffled, his uniform was covered in dirt and dust, and his eyes were darting around in a frantic manner. It was only when they landed on you that you figured out what he was looking for. Not saying a word, he marched towards you and cupped your face in his hands. Your mouth opened in question, but before you could speak, he pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, desperate first kiss. 

Though Lin wasn’t particularly pleased about the two of you, she had grown to admire how protective Mako was of you. Him being a skilled firebender only helped her feel more reassured. You, meanwhile, had grown tired of their coddling. 

Both of them treated you like a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest. Whenever someone threw you dirty glances in the street, both of them had a nasty habit of glaring and sneering. Mako is never averse to throwing a ball of fire at someone who is particularly troubling. 

“I can handle myself.”

“I know, I know.”

But did they?

You wanted to prove yourself. Show that as a trained airbender who had fought for her life tooth and nail on the streets, you could handle taking care of yourself when it mattered. So one night, you joined them on a mission. 

“You’re not coming.”

“The hell I’m not! I can take care of myself-- I’m not a little girl anymore!”

Mako kept silent as you argued with Lin, but his teeth gritted at the thought of you being in harm’s way. If you were coming, there was no way in hell he was going to let something happen to you. 

“Fine. You can come. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to your boyfriend with a victorious grin, only for it to falter at the sight of him avoiding your gaze and leaving the room. 

You wanted to ask, but deep down you already knew what he would say. Yes, you loved that he cared so much for you and your safety, but you really didn’t want Debby Downer to ruin your excitement for your first mission. After Lin’s reluctant acceptance, Mako avoided you like the plague, only acknowledging your existence with an outstretched hand behind him as you and the rest of the squad of police snuck up to the criminal activity. 

It was a gang, and one you had learned of quite a bit during your adolescent years in the cold city. They were benders trying to overthrow the government, starting first with robbing small homes and moving up to threatening local businesses with a “safety tax.”

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” you breathed out, practically buzzing with excitement behind a frustrated Mako. In the sunlight of what was only twelve noon, you could see the tension between his shoulders so much that it urged you to lodge a stick between the blades. You didn’t, but God did you want to. 

“Get down!”

Your squadron had been spotted, peering out from behind an alley wall and peeking in on what was the gang’s main leaders divvying up their most recent haul.

Fire almost singed your skin before Mako tugged you to the ground, forcing your head against the pavement while he shot back his own flames. Lin, who had been at the front of the squad, had charged into the thick of it, arms raised and ready to fight. 

There were about fifteen enemies in all, and with your group of ten soldiers-- excluding you-- Mako felt like they could take them. 

Without warning, he rose to his feet and dashed into the fight breaking out in the intersection between four lines of buildings. The scent of blood and smoke hit you like a wave of nausea as soon as you lifted your head and scrambled to your feet. 

C’mon, YN, it’s your chance! Let’s do this!

Running into the battle was like diving into a murky pool headfirst. You should have known the water would be shallow. 

The pavement beneath your feet rumbles and lifts, taking you and your yelp along with it. Just before it crashes into the nearest building, you tap your staff once and take flight, soaring through the air while searching for the nearest predator. 

A man that seemed ten times larger than you blasted a line of fire right towards your form, but you blew it right back into his face with a laugh. 

“Haha, how’d you like that!”

When your feet hit the ground, you jumped into action. A man-- a waterbender according to the sliver of ice that almost impaled your stomach-- came at you first. You twisted your hands and twirled your staff just enough that a gush of wind pushed him back into an alley dumpster, knocking him unconscious at the slightest contact. 

“Damn, I’m good! Can anyone explain why I’m so good?” You beamed, jabbing the butt end of your wooden staff into another mobster that tried to sneak up behind you. He toppled into his friend like dominoes, and just when you pounced over to land the final blow-- oh.

Ouchie

A white, hot bubble of pain burst in your chest, forcing you to let out a bloodcurdling scream. Your eyes flickered, narrowing and widening uncontrollably. No, not here!

“Dirty hybrid piece of shit! Go back to hell where you belong!”

Evidently, this gang member had done his research. As a shifter, there was a little nick right along your spine, just below where your wings would grow, that was almost like a failsafe. This man had bullseyed it like no other. 

Your nervous system tingled enough to leave you paralyzed, dropping to the floor like dead weight and twitching face-first in your own puddle of pain. The only things you could do now were blink and whimper, but you cried out brokenly when he dug the pick of ice deeper into your back. 

“YNNN!”

The infuriated roar of your name almost distracted you from the liquid seeping out and painting the concrete a deep red. A wave of heat, so quick and harsh it blew the hair stuck to the back of your neck away and up into your face. 

Groans and screams of pain accompanied what could only have been the sounds of people being burned alive. A mewl of fright left your mouth at the sight of a charred body collapsing right across from your turned head. From the smell of it, that man was a little past well-done.

“YN!” Hands patted your face and felt down your body before their owner grunted at the feeling of cooling blood. “YN! Can you breathe? Please, say something!”

Mako’s face appeared in your blurring vision as he pressed two fingers in your neck, feeling the panic-stricken pulse. 

“LIN, GET HELP! CALL SOMEONE!”

The shout was so loud, so cracked up with fear that it was almost painful to listen to. 

Mako’s thumb then rubbed your cheek in what he must’ve thought was a comforting manner. Instead, you only cringed at the feeling of his uncontrolled body temperature making your forehead break a sweat. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he cooed, but his orange eyes betrayed the words. It’s not that he thought they were wrong, it’s that he hated only getting to hope they were right. 

“Mako,” you whispered, disgusted at the mindless drool that pooled out after. 

“Shh, YN, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not losing you.”

“Mako,” you pressed, as loud as you could muster with your face weighed down against the scraping concrete. “I love you, okay?”

“No, YN, don’t say it like that.” You understood how he felt. With the way you said it, it sounded more like a goodbye than a confession. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Then the darkness consumed you.

~~~ (oops, this turned into a scenario)

Not-so-silent whispers tugged you out of your sleep like a fish on a hook. The first thing you felt was nothing. 

It’s true. Your body was numb from all feeling, even as you blindly waggled your toes and fingers. Then you opened your eyes and hissed at the blinding light that always accompanied a hospital room. 

Tingles, pricks like sharp nails filled your limbs as you moved them more and more, and when you turned your head to find the source of the whispers, you found another pressed against the cushion of your stiff bed. 

Mako was sound asleep, the idea given away by the steady inhales and exhales that forced their ways through the tissue-like material of your mattress every few seconds. And just when your fingers prickled too, you noticed his hand was up on the bed and was grasping yours tightly. 

You didn’t care enough to search through your surroundings for more; instead, you settled for smiling and reaching your other hand over to dip into his dark hair. 

A sudden rip of pain spread through your back at the movement, and you couldn’t hold back the yelp that came along for the ride. Without another word, Mako was up at attention, sitting with a straight back in his chair as his other hand slammed down on the bed. Two more bodies appeared on your other side, one of which being Lin. 

“YN, are you okay?!” 

“You’re never doing that again!”

Mako’s concerned face and Lin’s stern but worried one both added to the growing headache that pierced right through your temples. 

“Ugh, I’m fine, I’m fine. Just gimme some space, you guys.”

Neither seemed too eager to please, as they both stayed tight exactly where they were. 

“YN,” a gentler, calmer tone caught your eye, and a doctor just about Lin’s age gave you a pleasant smile, “how are you feeling?”

Where Lin’s skin was smooth and unmarked, the doctor’s was creased with years of practiced smiles and reassuring looks. 

“Just about as good as a sack of shit. Do I look as pretty as I feel?”

With a patient chuckle, the doctor dismissed the question and hopped right into things. Daily rewraps around the wound, combined with a bullet-biting pinch of disinfectant every twelve hours and Republic City’s newest horse pills, more bitter than the smell of dried sweat that hung in the air. 

The doctor encouraged Lin to follow him for the treatments, and after a kiss to your forehead and a little head pat, she did as much. When the door clicked shut after her was when Mako pounced. 

“Don’t scare me like that, YN. I thought I lost you.”

His arms were folded in an attempted scolding, but the slight tremble of his lower lip broke down the facade. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you snorted, reaching for his hand and trying not to tear your stitches. He did as you wanted and let you encourage him closer with a small tug. 

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down and cupping your cheek with the other hand. You lean into the hold, relishing in the comfort it provides. 

“Shit, Mako, why can’t you be colder? My skin feels like it’s on fire.”

“I thought hybrids like heat?”

“Yeah, well not this hot!” 

“But isn’t that what you like about me?” 

You smack his arm and he lets out a chuckle, leaning closer only to brush his lips against yours. 

“Cocky bastard,” you jab before pulling him into a real kiss.

Could I, pretty please, request Tsu'tey eating put-put, like no one has any business to, on human! reader? 👉👈🥺❤️

It's coming babes! Sorry it's takin' so long! I couldn't help myself, the fic got away from me. So now there's a bit of a fluffy build up to the absolute filthy degeneracy we all crave ❤️(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)❤️

Hopefully will have it done by tomorrow night~! ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

Jealousy? You Wear it Well

word count: 1529

Pairing: Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader Tags: fluff, romance, cute, silly, oneshot Author's note: A quick oneshot dedicated to @royallaufeyson! Saw their post asking for this pairing fluff and thought I'd give it a go. Hopefully it's too your liking :)

Ao’nung considers himself many great things; strong, skilled hunter, a remarkable swimmer. But jealous? No, never. Why would he be jealous? And of that stupid ikran? Perish the thought. What’s there to be jealous about really? Nothing, that’s what!

Yet here he finds you, his darling Omatikayan future mate, tending to your ikran, instead of meeting up with him like you were supposed to an hour ago.

You don’t even hear his approach, and that in itself stirs an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. You have your back to him, standing before your own ikran. You’re rubbing his neck and humming soothing words as he rests his head on your shoulder. Naturally, the accursed beast is the first to spot his approach.

Suddenly his head is off your shoulders and he hisses with a faux threat, his attention behind you.

“Hoan?” You look up at your ikran, confused by his sudden change in attitude. Noticing his gaze is fixated on something behind you, angry at something intruding on your alone time, you turn around to see what the fuss is about.

A wide grin splits your face, recognizing the would-be intruder as your beloved future mate.

“Ao’nung!” His name slips through your lips like siren song, turning your whole lithe form to him and jog to meet his approach halfway. No matter how many times he sees you, once again is he left awestruck by your visage. As you run to him, those untamed locks flowing freely behind you, your form is caught in the last rays of sunlight before eclipse; a golden luster leaving kisses upon your skin.

And he melts. Ready is he to prostrate himself before such beauty. He catches you in his strong arms with little effort, you are so light and lithe coming from the forest.

Your arms instinctually wrap around his neck and you kiss him without hesitation. A short quick peck and you pull away to look down into his eyes, pale blue meeting gold.

“Hi,” you say and he returns your smile as he places you on your feet once more. You don’t untangle your arms around his neck. His hands are on hips, holding you close.

“Hi yourself,” he says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you say back with a smile.

Hoan makes an annoyed huff behind you, clacking his jaw a few times. You turn to look at him, ears perked up.

“Hoan, what’s gotten into you recently?” Your attention is immediately pulled to your ikran, instantly removing your arms from Ao’nung’s neck as you make your way back to the creature in question. You don’t see the slight frown that forms on your beloved’s face as he watches you walk away. But your hand catches his, and without looking back, you pull him along with you. A roll of the eyes, ‘of course this thing needs you right this very moment’ he laments to himself.

“Sweet boy, what’s got you huffing and chuffing?” As you ask this you let go of Ao’nung’s, placing both hands on either side of Hoan’s face. “Are you still hungry?” you look to the side and see the fish portions remain untouched.

“Hmm…He must grow tired of the same meal. Poor thing must miss yerik and talioang meat.” You lament as you rub his neck soothingly. He makes a light trilling noise as you do. “Maybe you prefer some soft-shell meat, yes? I think I saw some in a pool nearby. Ao’nung, can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back!”

“Well I—” and before he can even protest, you’ve sprinted off, his arm outstretched to your retreating form. After a beat he drops his arm back to his side and sighs deeply. An awkward silence permeates the air. He can feel Hoan staring at the back of his head. Probably plotting his demise. He turns then, fixing a scowl at the creature, though mindful not to make direct eye contact.

“There’s probably nothing wrong with you, is there?” he asks, as if the beast would understand him perfectly. Hoan blinks, tilting his head from side to side as if confused, cawing at him.

“Oh don’t you play innocent with me. You kept her here on purpose didn’t you? Think you’re real smart hogging all her attention.”

Hoan doesn’t give away any indication he understood anything directed at him. Instead he busies himself cleaning the inner parts of his wing; utterly ignoring Ao’nung it seems.

The boy in question shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Turning around to once again face the direction you went.

“Skxáwng ikran…” he mutters to himself.

SMACK!

His hand flies to the back of his head, something having hit him. He turns around and looks down, finding a portion of sand and drool covered fish at his heals. He frowns and looks up Hoan, the offending creature has his head buried in his other wing.

Ao’nung eyes him up and down, taking a few steps back before turning around once more. Where the heck were you?

SMACK!

“Hey!” He turns around angrily and again he finds fish at his heels while Hoan is preening himself; the picture of innocence. “You better stop that or else!” A fool Ao’nung is then, to turn his back once more, because as soon as he does—

SMACK!

This time when he turns around, Hoan is instead looking right at him. The offending creature honks at him rhythmically, and to the annoyed Ao’nung, that almost sounds a damn laugh. Without a second thought, he picks up the nearest piece of fish and lobs it at Hoan’s head. He hits him square in the face, the fish leaving a sandy red kiss to his temple.

Were it possible, Ao’nung thinks the face Hoan’s giving him right now would be that of the utter most offence anyone has ever taken in the history of the forever. He picks up another piece and throws it Ao’nung, hitting him in the chest and leaving the same gross smelly mark.

“So you have chosen war.” Ao’nung states, a war cry leaves his lips and he grabs the pieces near him into his arms, throwing them at Hoan.

The ikran responses immediately, a loud hiss and raw at Ao’nung, this time he grabs as many pieces in his mouth as he can, throwing them haphazardly at his opponent, some missing him completely.

The two of them go at it for a while, the pieces becoming nearly unrecognizable as time passes. All the while, Ao’nung laughs, what a silly thing he finds himself doing, having a, fish war, with your ikran. The beast itself making all manner of caws, bellows, yips, snarls and chirps.

So engrossed are the two of them that they naturally do not here your approach until it is too late.

“By the Great Mother, what is going on here???”

Immediately they both stop, dead still are they, like two naughty children being caught red handed. They turn to you then, you standing off to the side, a small basket balanced on your hips, filled with various molluscs.

Ao’nung drops the pieces he’s holding, straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Well you see, [Y/N], we were just—” another piece hits him in the side of the head. He turns and frowns at Hoan, who has his head facing the other way, turned to the sky as if the most interesting thing he’s ever seen is there right now.

“Pffft….Pffthahahahaha!” A melodious laugh bursts forth from you, and Ao’nung turns to you alarmed; a light blue dust paints itself up his neck and across his cheeks. “The two of you are ridiculous! Look at you! Covered in sand and fish blood.” You shake your head, smile never wavering. You set the basket beside Hoan, knowing you wouldn’t have to shuck the creatures yourself. It will be good for him to use his wing claws to pry them open.

“Silly boy, Hoan!” You tease and make tsaheylu. “Make sure you wash yourself thoroughly before you return to the others. Else Bob will never let you forget,” you say out loud for Ao’nung’s benefit before disconnecting and approaching said boy.

He huffs at you and turns away.

There is a cheeky smile on your face as you look up at him, arms behind your back.

“So…”

“So…?”

“Having fun without me?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about honestly.”

You shake your head at his antics and grab his hand.

“Come, let’s get you cleaned up in the heated pools,” you say and walk off, pulling him behind you by your joint hands.

You turn to look at him behind you, not slowing your pace as you do.

“And Ao’nung?”

“Yes?”

“Jealousy? You wear it well yawne,” you tease him, letting the word roll of your tongue, dripping in liquid gold. You can’t help but giggle when you see the shocked look on his face, the darkening of his skin renewed tenfold. He turns his face elsewhere.

“Sh—shut up…”

You laugh once again facing forward and squeeze his hand.

He smiles contently, and gently squeezes back.

----

Oel ngati kameie - I see you

yerik - the hexapede

talioang - the sturmbeest 

skxáwng - stupid/moron/idiot

yawne - my love

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 4

word count: 8212

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: slight violence, swearing, fluff, reunion, so much crying

Author's Note: Man. Partway through writing this, I realized it was gonna surpass 10k, so had to break it up into more parts lmao. No smut in this chapter folks, sorry! Next chapter I promise bb xo

<previous chapter> | 4 | <next chapter>

You could lay there forever, you think. Tightly pressed into your mate’s side, bonded. Body aching from love making. But such bliss cannot last, not while you’re still a prisoner.

Quaritch feels your unease through the bond. He knows you’re right. He looks to the holo-clock on his bedside. It’s the early hours of the morning, still have a few hours before sunrise. He starts rubbing slow soothing patterns on your back. You hum softly.

He thinks about what’s going to happen to you in the morning. The General said she wanted you ready in a few days, get you back in that machine. He has no doubt in his mind that she’d be willing to push you to the brink of death again. He’s grateful the machine broke when it did. He swears he heard Her voice when it did. Did She intervene? If so, he resolves to thank Her properly when he can.

First and foremost; he needs a plan to get you the fuck outta here. Now with his memories fully back in place, any allegiance he once had to this place, to the RDA, has gone straight out the window. He spent a lot of his afterlife in quiet contemplation. It was a painful thing, to come face to face with one’s own past. To truly delve into the things he did. The guilt, regret and sorrow was almost overwhelming. But he got through it. And after all the years he spent seeing you, then those months spent together intimately, you were the only thing he cared about now. Well, besides his son, but he cared for the boy in a different way.

Sweet Spider. He wondered if the kid would ever forgive him. No doubt everything that has happened to you will come to light. He wonders how much you’ll actually tell him. You feel his uncertainty through the bond.

“Miles?”

He sits up suddenly, a renewed sense of determination floods your senses coming straight from him.

“I gotta get you the fuck outta here.” You stare wide-eyed at him, but smile when you see the sternness of his expression as he looks to you.

“Wait here.” He orders, unlinking your queues. He rushes to dress himself in his black tank top and camo pants. He comes back to the bed and kisses you hard; leaving you breathless.

“I’ll be back.”

---

And so you wait.

Quietly you sit in that bed, in the dark. You decide it’d be best if you got dressed yourself. You rummage through his clothes till you find a large black t-shirt you like the smell of; his scent is heavily woven through the fabric. The shirt sits just above your hips; no doubt it would look comically big were it not for your proportions. Least it is somewhat loose. You’re thankful then, that his pants sit comfortably on you thanks to your wide hips.

You sit yourself back on the bed once satisfied with your attire. You’re anxious now, nervously playing with your loose hair. How were the two of you going to pull this off? Even if it was the early hours of morning, surely not everyone in the base was asleep? And what of Spider? Could the 3 of you really escape so easily?

You’re not sure how much time passes when the door suddenly opens, startling you. You’re taken aback by the sight before you.

In walks Quaritch, flanked by 3 other recoms, and pushing through their legs, is your beloved brother.

You gasp.

It feels far too long since you saw him.

“SPIDER!!!” You yell, unintentionally, but the joy and relief of seeing him alive and unharmed overwhelms you. Quaritch luckily had closed the door before your outburst.

“[Y/N]!!! You’re okay!” He yells and runs to you. You drop to you knees and grab him in your arms. He wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tightly. You feel as though you could weep.

He pulls back, grabbing your face in his little lands, turning you side to side. His face contorted with worry. He’s inspecting you, as if to make sure you are real, are unharmed.

“What did they do to you? Did these assholes hurt you? Did…he hurt you?” You see Quaritch flinch in your peripheral. Of course. Spider doesn’t know he has all his memories back. And with that, he is fluent in Na’vi; something you spent months teaching him when the two of you weren’t in the throes of passion.

You place a kiss on Spider’s forehead.

“I’m okay now. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe and out of here. Unless…?” You trail off as you look to the others in the room. Two men and one woman.

“[Y/N], this is Lyle, Mansk, and ZDog.” He points to each one of them as he introduces them.

You greet them with the customary hand gesture. They do not reciprocate, and you do not begrudge them. They instead greet you in the human way, holding up a hand with a “hi” or a “hey”.

“Sooo…You’re the reason Colonel here’s about to go AWOL?” The bald one, Lyle, comments with a smirk.

“Wainfleet…” Quaritch growls out a warning. Lyle holds his hands up in defence.

“Hey I don’t mean nothing by it!”

ZDog and Mansk snicker at the two, you wonder if this is sort of exchange is an often occurrence. Quaritch sighs in annoyance, but he sees the slight worry in your eyes.

“You don’t gotta worry about these 3, darling. Their loyalty is to me, not the RDA. Ain’t that right ladies?”

“HOORAH!” The three of them yell with wide smiles. You breathe a sigh of relieve, hand on your heart. You get to your feet, keeping a firm hold of Spider’s hand in yours. You sure as shit weren’t letting him go again.

“So…What is the plan? Surely they wouldn’t let us just, walk out?” You ask.

“Actually…That’s precisely the plan.” You’re taken aback by this. That wasn’t really so much of a plan, as it was a complete gamble.

“I can see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, lemme explain.” You hear the quiet giggles of the 3 recoms, and see Lyle playfully jab his elbow into Quaritch’s side. Your mate scoffs and scowls at him, but doesn’t retaliate. He clears his throat and continues.

“I’ve left a message for the general when she eventually wakes up explaining our absence. Night Training we’ll call it. See, Spider here’s been teaching us some of your Na’vi way during the day. But your forest ain’t entirely asleep at night right? So I figured, we should be taught how to survive its dangers at night, should we ever find ourselves in such a situation. Said we’d be back by sunrise. ‘Course we ain’t plannin’ on returning. But by the time they catch on, it’d be far too late, and we’d be long gone.”

By Eywa this was such a gamble. An incredible risk. And what of transport? You’ve seen the base before, from the safety of the skies. Its size was nothing to scoff at.

“And what of transport? Are we to take one of the flying machines?” Quaritch smirks at your question.

“I got a much better idea.”

---

Dressed in full gear, the 5 recoms lead you and Spider through the base. It is far emptier than you would have expected, barely any humans awake at this hour. What few scientists you see look far too sleep deprived to even pay you any mind. You pass the room housing that awful machine and visibly recoil.

You feel Spider squeeze your hand tight, your nerves calming slightly. Your hands had been cuffed at your front, with Spider pulling you along. They had to keep up appearances, and you understood. Least the orange restraints weren’t secured too tightly like the first time.

When you pass a window you look into the room and see the machine’s interior exposed, a few humans fiddling with the contents.

‘Good that it’s fucking broken. Eywa curse that awful machine.’ You think bitterly.

---

When the cool night air first hits your face, you all but whimper. Quaritch turns to you and catches you with one hand under your arm as your knees buckle. Although there is a big smile on your face, eyes closed in bliss as you breath deep, he can’t stop the guilt that hits him. You’ve been without fresh air for so long, living off of their masks and gas canisters. Seems as though there was still more he needed to atone for with you.

You stand up straight and take one final deep breath before you look to him.

“I’m okay…I’m okay, promise.” You reassure him. He nods, and the group is on the move once more. He’s nervous, you can tell. There is a tension in his shoulders when he walks. You feel it radiating from the two at your side, and ZDog at your rear. But once again, you aren’t met with any resistance as they lead you to an open area off to the side.

You can’t help the shocked gasp when you see them.

Ikran! And four of them! Beautiful mountain ikran. Is this what they were up to when they said Spider was teaching them? You’re almost giddy with excitement. The prospect of escape growing with each passing moment. You push hard on the underlying feeling of resentment that curls deep within you; knowing that they all were enjoying with gifts of the Great Mother while you suffered deep within their base. You have to remind yourself your beloved wasn’t truly himself. You haven’t completely forgiven him; such things would take time. But getting you and Spider out of here was a nice start.

You half expected one of the human security personnel to question where you were all going at such a time, but once again, those that were patrolling, and there wasn’t a lot of them in the first place, paid you all no mind. Perhaps Quaritch and his team answered only then, to that woman; the Admiral. You shiver at the memory of her cold stare. Never had you been confronted by such indifference.

“Alright, [Y/N] with me. Spider, with Lyle.” You nod and he brings you closer to his ikran; a beautiful dark blue female with golden accents on her wings. He smiles proudly at you as he pets her neck. “This here is Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Cuz it was just so sweet of her to try and kill me,” he again smirks at you, and that raises more questions than it answers. But no matter, you’ll ask him to explain properly another time. He bond with Cupcake first, calming her and letting her understand just who you were to him. He helps you first up onto the saddle, you shuffle forward as he gets up and secures himself behind you. You grip the front of the saddle tightly. He pulls you back into his front, holding you tight with one arm around your waist. His other hand holds firm onto the reins beside your hands. With a kiss to the side of your temple, he commands his ikran to take flight.

And with that, the six of you take to the skies, uninhibited, and unbound, toward the forest.

---

Once you’re in the air and a bit away from the base, Quaritch undoes the bindings on your wrists, letting the cuffs fall to the forest. You immediately lift both hands into the air, giggling at the feeling of wind brush over your skin and through your hair.

You fly for a while, you think about 30 minutes from the base, when Quaritch calls for his squad to land in a nearby clearing. You’re impressed by his graceful landing. He hops off first, then holds a hand out to help you down, which you accept graciously.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you hear the cry of an ikran coming in to land, and it is all to familiar. The recoms immediately have their guns drawn and pointed at the creature as it lands a few meters away. It is screaming, calls you recognise as threats. The other ikran clack their jaws together, not entirely rattled by the display. But you don’t care about that. You sprint towards him, and scream at the top of your lungs.

“PASKALIN!!!”

Quaritch calls for you, worried of course, but orders his team to stand down. The ikran bounds closer to meet you half way, its threatening yells exchanged for high pitched bellows. It places its head on your shoulder, tilting its head to bump yours, chuffing all the while.

“My sweet boy! I’m so happy you’re okay!” You gently rub under his chin and along his neck. Thank Eywa he is unharmed. Poor thing must have been waiting just outside the base all this time for you, then must have followed the moment he caught your scent leaving.

You guide him back to the group, smiling brighter than before.

“Everyone, this is Paskalin; my ikran.” You introduce him, and Spider bounds close without a second thought. Paskalin bends over to let the boy pet him.

“I thought I recognised you! Good choice not approaching this lot though.” He says to the ikran, and you give Spider a puzzled look. He notices your confusion.

“Saw him a few times when we went flying. Thought he looked familiar. Thought maybe he was following us ‘cuz one of them bonded with his mate or something.” He offers as an explanation. You feel a small twinge in your heart at the thought of your poor boy trying desperately to find you. He must have either recognised Spider, or perhaps even more saddening, your smell may have lingered on Quaritch. No matter. He is with you now.

You turn to the others, noticing then that they are in the process of removing all their gear. No vests. No comms. No guns. Leaving only their clothes. So they were really doing this. They were really going to follow you, Quaritch and Spider. Give up their lives with the RDA and embrace whatever Eywa would throw at them. They all start digging holes to bury their equipment.

“Hey…[Y/N]?” Spider pulls your attention. When you turn to look at him, you see his expression is one of contemplation, perhaps even confusion. There is a slight scowl to his brow.

“What’s wrong, Spider?”

He takes a moment to answer you, as if trying to think of how to broach the topic with you.

“Are…Did you and da—…Quaritch—did the two of you…” ‘Oh sweet Mother, he knows.’ Your ears pin back at the realisation of what he’s trying to ask you. He takes one big breath to calm himself.

“It’s just…I noticed the way he was holding you when we were flying, and the way he keeps looking at you too. It’s just how Jake looks at Neytiri.”

You press your lips together in a fine line. You’re not sure how to feel. Shame? Pride? Love? All of it washes over you. You have loved Quaritch before you even knew he was Spider’s father. That young silly crush of yours. And even when you learnt the truth, of him and his crimes, that did not deter you. And even when he seemingly vanished into thin air, your love for him did not waver.

“It is as it seems…We are mated.” Spider’s eyes widen with your confession. He is shocked. He then makes a face and sound of disgust.

“Does that make you my step-mom now?” the lilt of his voice is laced with teasing tones. You laugh suddenly, and playfully push him. He does the same.

“No way! You’re my brother first! But you have to admit—I’ve definitely been mothering you all since all of you could walk,” you are of course referring to all your younger siblings.

“Pssh, whatever!” he pulls your tail and laughs at your shocked expression. You hiss playfully and he hisses back, running when you start chasing him.

Quaritch watches the two of you giggle like a bunch of children, chasing each other and carrying on. He smiles to himself at the sight. A delicate warmth spreads from his chest and envelops him. He feels grateful to have the two of you in his life.

‘You watchin’ Paz? I’m gonna take good care of that boy. Do right by him, just like I promised. And I won’t be alone neither.’

---

Once everyone is finished burying the last of their gear, you all gather around one another.

“Ok sir, what’s the plan? Where we goin’?” Lyle asks Quaritch.

“Well, that depends on dear [Y/N].” He turns to you, “where we goin’ sweetheart? You know this forest better than any of us.”

You contemplate for a moment. Your first thought is to go back to High Camp. You miss your family something fierce, and it is the safest place you can think of right now. But you are afraid. What if the RDA had a way to track your movements? If they did, you’d be leading them straight to your clan, your family. Thus putting everyone in danger. Quaritch sees the worry adorning your face. He cups the side of your face, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You don’t gotta worry, sweetness. They won’t be able to track us. We ain’t takin’ a damn thing with us they can track. No guns. No coms. Nothing. Even took off the gear they made for the banshees,” he gestures behind him and look to see all their ikrans are bare back now.

You look back to him, and stare up into his golden eyes. They shine so beautifully in the moonlight. You become lost then, as you intently study the specs of light framing his face; committing each one to memory. Gently he rubs his thumb across your cheek, the gently motion soothing you. The two of you become lost in each other’s gaze, to the point of forgetting you weren’t alone.

“Soooo…where’re we going?” Spider speaks, again a hint of teasing in his voice, and the spell is broken. Quaritch seems unbothered though, seemingly not embarrassed to show you affection in front of others; let alone his son and squad.

“Well, darlin’?” you smiles oh so sweetly down at you, and you melt all over again.

“We go home.”

---

When you had said home though, you meant instead, the Tree of Souls. Although you trusted Quaritch with your very life, now that he remembered who he was, you still had reservations about the other 3. You do remember his squad being sizably bigger than this, and wondered where the rest of his team was. Would they follow you all? Did they themselves have ikran? But before taking flight he explained; this really was all that was left.

When he had first captured you and Spider, he lost a few to your family. Then after your capture, the attacks from Sully had increased tenfold. It was during these attacks that he began losing teammates, and slowly, he was left only with his 3 most loyal and trusted.

The attacks had become more frequent, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. And each time, a message was left in blood ‘GIVE HER BACK’. You cried openly at that. Your family had been fighting all this time to get you back. You felt a little saddened that it perhaps didn’t say ‘them’, to include Spider, but you didn’t fault your father. You couldn’t even fathom how he and mother must be feeling. Knowing where you were, but not be able to reach you. To them, you were caught in the arms of their greatest enemy. And that remained true, though in a completely different context now.

‘Oh great Eywa, how am I even going to explain this to them?’ A renewed sense of worry takes over you.

“[Y/N], you okay?” Spider asks you. He’s in front of you, riding with you on your ikran. You nod and force a smile. Everything will be fine. It had to be.

---

You laugh cry when you see the Tree of Souls. There was a time down in that prison where you truly believed you would die; locked away from all that you loved and held dear.

When you come in for a landing, it is barely sunrise. The few people that are there making early morning prayers to Eywa hastily move out the way. The sight of unfamiliar ikrans causing the nearby warriors to draw their bows on you all.

But then they see you and Spider.

“[Y/N]…? Is that you??” One of them calls out, he moves his bow to instead aim at one of the unfamiliar Na’vi.

“Ka'ani!” You smile big and wide at the warrior; a friend of the family, one of the people who had completed their iknimaya alongside your father.

“Who are these Dreamwalkers?”

“Peace, Ka’ni. They helped me escaped.” You move to stand in front his line of fire. A tense moment follows. He studies their faces, their body language. Alert but non-threatening. He verbally signals the surrounding warriors and they all lower their weapons. You breathe a sigh of relief and run toward the hunter, greeting him traditionally. He returns the gesture.

“You’re family has been rife with worry. They will be relieved to know you are unharmed.” He says and puts a hand to your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“[Y/N]…?” You look up toward the tree and see your Grandmother making her way from the trunk and down its roots. You don’t even yell, just run at her, tears streaming down your face. You try to say the greeting, but all that comes out is a warbled mess of a cry. She holds you tight in arms, swaying back on forth, giving thanks to Eywa over and over again for your safe return.

“[Y/N]!!! SPIDER!!!” You look behind Mo’at and see Kiri racing toward you. She must have been up early with Mo’at for Tsahik training.

“KIRIIIII!!!” She all but tackles you and Mo’at, the older woman letting out a ‘Oof’ as she braced herself from the impact. Spider comes bounding up and Kiri grabs him and pulls him onto the fold.

Kiri moves from you, all smiles and teary eyed.

“I’m so glad you’re safe sister. Did those guys bring you here?” She looks behind you to the group standing awkwardly with the ikrans. Her expression falls almost immediately, blood running cold. Recognition adorns her face. She looks up at you, then back to them, a quickness to her breath.

“That’s…that’s…” she can’t get the words out.

“There’s…a lot to explain, Kiri. Can…can you get mom and dad? I… I don’t want to bring them to High Camp. Not just yet.” You turn to gaze at the others, your eyes fix onto Quaritch as he meets yours. He gives you the faintest of smiles, and you smile back. He breaks eye contact to address the others. They are too far for you to hear what they are saying; drowned out by the whispers of your clanmates in the vicinity.

Kiri is staring at you. Shock and fear all over her face. She doesn’t catch to whom you smile.

“[Y/N]…don’t tell me…”

You turn to her again, and smile sadly. You know full well that this revelation will disappoint your parents. Kiri doesn’t say anything else; your expression was answer enough. She rushes down to her ikran, and takes off for High Camp.

You watch her go with a heavy heart, anxiety building up all over again.

You hear Mo’at behind you, praying to Eywa for guidance, and to keep you safe.

---

When you see the familiar ikrans of your parents and siblings land, you waste no time and rush to meet them. They even brought little Tuk.

“[Y/N]!” Your mother is the first on you, hugging you tightly to her, holding your face in her hands, checking all over you, making sure you are unharmed. All the while she weeps, he tears breaking the painted patterns on her face. When you see your father you pull him in with one arm and hold both of them so close and so tight, the strain in your arms almost burning.

You see little Tuk running at you as she calls for you. You release your parents and bend down to pick her up. She cries in your arms. You hush her with gentle words, rubbing her back and whisper comforting words, just as you have always done when she cried.

You look behind your parents to see your two brothers standing their trying to act cool and nonchalant.

“Come here you idiots.” You say with tears still streaming down your face but with a smile. That is all the invitation they need and they run you, unceremoniously pushing your parents aside to get to you and hug you tightly. Your folks merely laugh at their antics.

“How’d you escape, kid? Did those guys bring you here?” Your father looks up from you to the group they had ignored, so focused were they on seeing you when they landed. You tense at his question, and carefully hand Tuk back to mother. When you turn to your father you see his expression is anything but pleasant. He’s downright scowling. There is murder in those eyes.

“Is that fucking Quaritch…?” His voice is low and threatening. You swallow your fear. Slowly you move from your family toward the recoms, keeping your gaze on your family. When your mother turns to them, she clutches Tuk closer to her, turning her away from them, letting out a threating and scared hiss.

“Demon!” she spits venomously.

“Hey there Mrs. Sully. Jake. Fancy seeing you here,” Quaritch says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. You inwardly cringe, now was not the time for bravado.

Tentatively you place a hand on his chest, and in a low voice whisper, “peace, my love. Play nice.” He looks to you and nods. He moves to place a hand to your face.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER!” You here your father yell at the top of his lungs. Before you can even turn, you feel Quaritch grab you with both hands and throw you to the side. Caught of guard, you barely catch yourself with a roll. When you look up, you see your father and mate in a fight. The ikrans, startled, fly up and out of the way, perching themselves elsewhere. All the while they cawing loudly at the sudden excitement.

You watch in horror as the two men fight. Hand to hand, bloody fists flying. You notice though, it is only your father throwing punches. Quaritch dodges what he can, but keeps his arms up to block. Never does he retaliate. It sometimes almost looks like he lets himself get hit.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT DID YOU PEOPLE DO TO HER, HUH?!” When father yells that, you see the falter in Quaritch’s step. He pauses, and lowers his arms. There is a guilty look on his face, his stance almost one of defeat. Jake sees, and doesn’t care. He goes for him then, blade drawn. Immediately you’re on your feet, racing toward them.  Just before your father can bring his blade down into Quaritch’s chest, your on his back, and pull with all your might, bringing him down with you. When you’re on your back, you push as hard as you can, forcing your father to tumble away from you.

He jumps to his feet immediately in fighting a stance, blade drawn.

You stand protectively in front of Quaritch, crouching defensively and hiss at your father. He’s completely taken aback by that, and looks at you confused.

“[Y/N]…?”

You don’t say anything, but stand up and open your arms wide.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s the only reason I’m even here right now!” You hear an angry growl come from your mother.

“He’s the reason you were taken in the first place!” She hisses, and you see she’s drawn her bow, aiming it straight at Quaritch. The rest of your siblings are behind her. You see Tuk cowering behind Kiri’s legs.

You turn then to stand to block her arrow, holding your arms out as far as you can, and you meet your mother’s stare. But she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are fixed solely on the man behind you. You can’t see, but you wonder where he’s looking. Her eyes fall to you, then back to him. You can see her shaking slightly, her face scrunched, conflicted.

“Daughter. Lower your bow…” You hear Mo’at approaching. She stands beside her daughter, her back to you.

“Mother…?” Neytiri is confused. Surely she understands who this Demon is. Slowly she lowers her bow, still gripping it tightly, arrow still knocked and ready.

“That…is your daughter’s mate…”

When she hears that, your mother let’s out the most blood curdling scream you have ever heard. She doesn’t think, only acts on instinct. She lifts her bow, pulls back and fires an arrow aimed straight at his head.

“NO!!!” you screamed as she let the arrow loose.

A powerful wind suddenly sweeps through the area. The force of it enough push you and everyone else to their knees. The coldness bites at your skin to the point it burns. The sting causing your eyes to water, so you squeeze them shut. The force is unrelentingly, assaulting from every direction, causing your hair to wildly thrash around you. You don’t expect it to be so loud either, moving your hands to cover your ears. Barely can you hear the confused cries of everyone around you, all in fear. You faintly hear the sounds of the ikrans above you; all scared caws and bellows.

You try with every ounce of strength you can muster to open your eyes, and are only able to open them but a fraction.

You are surprised then, to see someone standing in front of you, though you can barely make out her profile. When you look up, you see she is staring down at you.

Her skin is so light, it is almost shimmering. The dark gold of her hair remains still, even in this windy assault. You can’t see her eyes. And when you blink, she’s changed. Skin darker than night, but in the early morning sunlight, it is almost iridescent. You think you can see tiny swashes of rainbow dance across her skin. Her hair, still unmoving, is now brilliant white, like the stars in the sky. It is only then that you notice she has one arm raised, and in her hand she holds your mother’s arrow. When you blink again however, she is gone, taking the wind with her. The arrow falls before you, broken at the shaft.

Slowly you move your hands from your ears, wiping the tears from your eyes. You hear the groans and scared cries of the people around you.

“[Y/N]! You alright?!” Immediately Quaritch has his hands on you, turning you to face him. He searches your face, and once he’s satisfied, he pulls you to him in a tight embrace. He sighs in relief into your hair.

Neytiri can only sit and stare. She has no words for the sight before her. And she weeps. Weeps at her daughter in the arms of her sworn enemy. Weeps at the shadow she saw in the wind. She is no fool. She understood, and she weeps; for although she will never question the Will of the Great Mother, she cannot stop herself from feeling great sadness.

---

Awkward.

It is so unbearably awkward.

After what happened at the Spirit Tree, Mo’at insisted all of you, the recoms included, return to High Camp. Eywa has made her stance on the matter quite clear.

So here you sit, in your family’s tent, Quaritch at your side. Your parents sit across from you, staring daggers at the man. Your father has his arms crossed. Their gaze flitters from him to you. You to him. Your eyes are cast downward, unable to meet theirs. You fiddle with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing as you sit on your knees.

The rest of Quaritch’s squad was sent to where actual Avatars were kept, told they weren’t allowed to leave the barracks, and if they did, they’d be shot on sight.

Your siblings where given strict instructions to not disturb any of you until this, meeting, was complete.

“Explain.” That is the only word you father says. Only thing he needs to say. You open your mouth to speak, but father cuts you off. “He can speak for himself.”

Like you, Quaritch is sitting on his knees. He feels humiliated, being forced into this submissive pose. He remembers clearly how he was Jake’s superior. But he has to remind himself, he is on Jake’s territory now. And Jake is quite literally the Leader.

“What’dya wanna know, Sully?”

“Start from the very beginning. How the fuck are you back, for a start. Pretty sure that’s your arrow riddled corpse down there on the old battlefield.”

You see Quaritch’s tail flinch at that. You consciously bring your tail and wind it around his, calming him. Your mother sees this, and you hear her curse under hear breath at him, calling him all manner of profanities. You don’t untangle your tails.

You listen intently as Quaritch explains then. How he and his squad were subject to having copies of all their memories up to a certain point made. How they had to record videos for their resurrected selves, to explain the situation. He didn’t go into detail about what he recorded.

He explained how he remembered Spider’s birth and his mother. You tighten your tail around his as a tightness in your chest forms. This was before your time, yet you can’t help the coil of jealously in your gut. This was your mate. It is you who should have given him children first.

He talks about how he remembers the assault on home tree, the death of Spider’s mother. But that’s where his memory ends. He has no recollection of his own death.

“That’s how it was…until I got my memories back. All of them.” He looks to you as he says that, his expression soft and loving.

“What do you mean?” Father asks, confusion on his face.

“Eywa.”

Your mother makes an angry growl at that.

“You do not speak her name! You have no right!” She spits at him, pointing at him accusingly.

“Wait a minute now Mrs. Sully, I’m only here because of Her, alright?”

“Are you saying, this, is Her fault?” She points between the two of you.

“Well kind of, I mean, but not really—well?” Quaritch is struggling for the right words. He doesn’t want to outwardly blame Eywa, but she didn’t exactly stop either of you.

“Mother, let me explain.” You try and use your most diplomatic voice, soft and gentle. She looks to you, hurt evident in her eyes. But she sits back and lets you speak.

---

You start from your beginning. The Dreams. How, as a child, you met a human man, not the friendliest of sorts, but happily indulged you when you asked about humanity and their Home. How he took every opportunity to brag about his people and their accomplishments. How over time you came to learn he was a dead soul, kept by Eywa, and he knew it too. There came a time, years on when you were much older, that when he gave you his real name, (you had been addressing him by title only), you knew who he was.

The two of you never spoke about it, but you know who he was then. And when you gave him your full name, the implications of who you were became known. For reasons you cannot explain, you kept approaching him in your Dreams, after all the years you two had a sort of friendship.

You then spoke of how you couldn’t stop yourself, but you developed a crush on this older man. He didn’t treat you like a freak, not like the boys in the clan. Sure he may have treated you like a bit of a nuisance as a kid, but warmed up to you as time passed, especially when it was clear you weren’t going away.

“And so um…You remember, a few years ago, when I had…all those…marks?”

You watch with baited breath as realisation dawns on both your parents features. A strangled cry leaves your mother and she lunges for Quaritch. Jake grabs her around the waist, holding her steadfast to him. She fights to free herself from him, but she has little fight in her. She isn’t crying, but she is yelling and screaming at Quaritch, calling him all manner of vile filth she can muster in English. Your father whispers in her ear, trying to calm her, holding her head to his chest. She relents eventually, an almost cry escapes her lips as she buries her head into his neck, holding him close.

You lips quiver as you struggle not to cry. You have never felt such shame in your life. You start to question every choice you have ever made. Before you can fall into a descent of self-loathing, you feel a hand slide into yours, entwining your fingers. You look up to your mate, tears threatening in the corner of your eyes.

The look he gives you washes away any doubt. Spider was right. He looks at you just like father looks at mother; like you yourself hung the stars in the sky. Reverence.

“I don’t understand though…You were dead. How were you able to, interact?” You father has a confused and disgusted look on his face.

“We figured that, whatever happened to my soul in the shared Dreamscape, must get reflected onto my body in the real world.”

Father nods, not questioning further, he didn’t want the details.

“Colonel…You know that’s incredibly fucked up right?” Jake directs his ire to Quaritch. The man has no response. He knows what he did was wrong. He lowers his head in shame.

“I’m sor—”

“DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGISE!”

Everyone jumps at your sudden outburst. You gaze is fixed solely on your mate, hurt and anger in your eyes. You turn to him, grabbing both his hands firmly in yours.

“Don’t you dare say those words, you here me? I’m not sorry it happened. I was not some ignorant child. I knew what I was doing was wrong. And I knew better, I simply didn’t care! You made me happy. Really happy! Happier than I had been in, months, years even. And I was already falling hopelessly in love with you. And Eywa be damned, I would do it all over again.” You place a soft kiss to his knuckles. You see his lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold himself back, ears pressed back. He breaks eye contact, looking down at your joint hands instead. You understand the things he cannot say in front of your parents, and gently squeeze his hands. You feel him squeeze back.

“Ma Jake, I—I can’t,” You mother says and abruptly gets to her feet and hastily leaves. He calls for her, but she doesn’t come back. It breaks your heart, but you swallow the lump in your throat. You’ll cry it out later.

“Dad, it’s okay…It’s a lot for her to take in…” He sighs heavily.

“You can say that again…I remember though. Your attitude changed. Seemed like you had a falling out with the person we thought you were seeing.”

“Ah well, he kinda disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” He looks to Quaritch, confused. Said man clears his throat.

“Like I said before. Eywa. She came to me. Said She needed me for a purpose, but was gonna put me to sleep. Said when I wake up, it’d be in a new body. Thing is, none of us that made these backups, even knew we were gonna get resurrected in Na’vi bodies. But She did. Said, the memories would never be enough. The bodies wouldn’t work. Think She said something like, ‘These Na’vi bodies will exist because I allow it. And they will end, because I demand it.’ Then She knocked me out before I could ask more.”

You father nods and huffs, taking it all in. He’s quite for time, contemplating, thinking.

“So, you’re really Quaritch then? Not some, fake with memories?”

“In the flesh.”

“I’ll say.” You slap a hand to your mouth, unexpectedly chiming in with a flirt. You father frowns at you and you look elsewhere.

“Fuck man…FUCK.” Your father rubs the back of his head in frustration. “This is serious bullshit!” He gets up and starts pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Eventually he stops, a deep aggravated sigh leaving him.

“Look…I’ll talk to your mother. Try and calm her down. I can’t promise you guys anything. Quite frankly I’d have been happier just killing YOU,” he points at Quaritch, “but if Eywa wants you alive then so be it. I can’t guarantee the rest of the clan is going to be keen on the idea of you staying, and I’m not about to risk unrest to make you comfortable.”

“I understand…”

Quicker than you’re able register, your father has a blade pressed to Quaritch’s neck. You gasp but make no move to stop him this time.

“If you hurt her...There is no place on this planet, no place that the Great Mother can protect you. I will find you. And I will kill you.”

“I’d sooner die than hurt her.”

“Good. Then we finally agree on something.”

You father pulls back and holsters his blade.

“Get out of here. I had the kids set up a tent for you to use.”  He dismisses Quaritch with a wave of his hand. Suddenly Spider is there, and you wonder if the entire little entourage had been eavesdropping this whole time. “Spider show him where his tent is.”

“Yes sir.”

Quaritch gets up and follows without another word. You get up to follow but your father stops you.

“Wait, [Y/N]. I want to speak with you in private.”

Quaritch gives you one forlorn look over his shoulder before he exists the tent.

---

You stand in silence as you wait for father to address you. He doesn’t, and instead, grabs you and pulls you into his arms. He holds you tight, pressing your head into his shoulder. You bring your arms up around him without a second thought.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, baby girl…I—we really got worried there. Thought we weren’t gonna see you again…”

You pull back and wipe a stray tear from your eye.

“Heard you turned up the heat.” He lets out a laugh like huff at that.

“Yeah, I may have gotten a little over zealous…But I’m glad you’re back, safe and sound.” He kisses your head and hugs you tightly again. “I love you, [Y/N].”

“Love you too, Dad.”

There is a beat of silence that passes between you two, just holding each other tight. You’re reminded then, of how this was the safest place to you as a child.

“Is…is this what you really want? Does he really make you happy?”

“Yeah Dad…he really does.” You say, not a hint of shame in your voice. You father sighs in defeat again. Poor man’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Alright… I sure as shit don’t like it, in fact I’m pretty sure I hate it. But, I wonder if this is what Neytiri’s parents felt like when she chose me, kinda. Well, not really the same, cuz ya know, it wasn’t directly me that blew up—”

“Dad please. You’re rambling.”

“Right, right, sorry. Just…Give your mother and grandmother time, yea? It’s gonna take a lot more time for them to come around to this idea. Hell, I’m not sure I’m entirely on board here. So please, please, be patient with them. With us.”

“Of course father. Without question. Thank you,” you hug him tightly one more time before you make your exist. You want nothing more than to fall into your mate’s arms.

When you exist the tent, you aren’t the least bit surprised to find your younger siblings scrambling to their feet. Of course they heard everything. Awkwardly they stand around, avoiding your piercing gaze. Well, everyone except Tuk. She runs to you and demands to be picked up. You do so without question, hugging her tightly.

“I’m pretty sure we were all taught how rude it is to eavesdrop,”

“It was Lo’ak’s idea!” Tuk tattles without a second thought.

“Tuk?!” He yells at her. She merely sticks a tongue out him. You simply laugh at their antics. Neteyam clears his throat and moves to take Tuk from you. She moves without a fight.

“So…Spider’s dad? Really?” Lo’ak speaks up and you cringe at the phrasing.

“Yep,” you say with a load pop to the ‘p’. You look to Kiri and see the angry and confused look to her face. Understandable, you think, knowing that he’s the reason her mother isn’t around.

“Kiri—” she holds a hand to you, stopping you from continuing.

“Don’t [Y/N], just—don’t. I don’t know how to feel about, any of this…But I felt her, Eywa, when we were down at the Spirit Tree. She saved him. For reasons I will never truly understand. So…Urgh. I don’t know. I’m happy for you, I guess?” There’s expiration in her voice. You know she’s trying her best to be supportive. Finding ones mate was always supposed to be a beautiful thing. You give her the best smile you can muster under the circumstances.

“Thank you, Kiri…” She gives you a curt nod, then takes Tuk from Neteyam.

“I’m gonna go help grandmother, I’ll talk to you later,” and with that she makes a hasty exit.

Lo’ak pats you on the back, sensing your sadness.

“It’ll be alright sis. She’ll come around.” You smile appreciatively at his words.

“Heh…aren’t you guys, disgusted in me too?” Lo’ak merely shrugs at you.

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only screw up around here.”

“Oi!” You punch his arm playfully, he hisses at the pain but laughs all the same, rubbing the tender spot.

“Regardless…” Neteyam breaks his silence. “Just, be careful [Y/N]. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You regard him with a solemn smile.

“Bit late for that I’m afraid,” Your two brothers share a look but don’t press you for answers. “Anyway, can you show me where his tent is set up?” Lo’ak gestures you to follow him, and Neteyam goes off on his own, having other tasks to do.

---

When you enter his living space, you're surprised to see Spider still there. They both look up when they sense your presence.

“We’ll finish this later, son.” Quaritch says and gently pets Spider on his shoulder. The boy smiles at him and goes to leave, not before hugging you. Once he's left, you go about closing off the tent, ensuring the two of you have the utmost privacy, all the while Quaritch watches you silently.

Satisfied all is secure and there should be no interruptions, you walk straight over to where he is sitting. You drop yourself into his lap, legs wrapping tightly around his mid. You press yourself as hard as you can to him, as if he could swallow you whole into his very being. Head pressed into the bottom of his throat, your arms go around his neck, gripping tightly at his hair. It hurts but he doesn’t mind, doesn’t voice a single complaint.

Strong arms wrap around you, warm, secure, and tightly. You cry then; you’ve been doing that a lot lately. But you don’t care right now. You break down in your mates arms.

Every fear, regret, guilt, and sadness pouring from you all at once.

The meeting with your parents perhaps didn’t go as disastrously as it could have; no one died at least. But you wish it could have gone better. You feel terrible for what your mother must be going through. She must feel like the whole world is against her.

To bring her worst enemy, the very man that caused the death of her father, and then to have said man be mated with you? The thought causes you cry even harder. It is an ugly cry, nothing but tears and snot.

Quaritch doesn’t give a damn though. He rocks you back and forth in his arms, one hand goes to the back of your head, the other starts rubbing up and down your spine in a soothing motion. He starts humming then, a song you don’t recognise. The low vibrations of his voice gently bringing your crying to but a whimper.

“It's alright baby, I got you. You’re safe with me.” He whispers in your ear, and suddenly exhaustion sits heavily on your shoulders. You feel so drained from everything that’s happened. You close your eyes and let sleep take you, lulled by his continued humming.

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness

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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been following this story! If I missed you in the tags please let me know! I think there might only be 1 or 2 more parts left to this short story! Hahaha this was initially started with the intention of being a oneshot; with the excuse to write smut. Yet here we are on part freaking 4.

MFW I thought this was a oneshot:

LMAO SUPRISED MYSELF--! Anyway big thank you to everyone who enjoys it so far! Will get back to my main fic once I wrap this baby up xoxo Also thank you again for the likes, comments and retweets! Any engagement really motivates me to write more! <3

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<previous chapter> | 4 | <next chapter>

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 3

word count: 7589

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: nsfw, fluff, comfort, bonding, good feels

Author's Notes: Aye yo this took forever omg, my apologies for the wait! 7.5k words later! Hope it's to your liking everyone! The softness! Some niceness for Reader TwT Apologies for grammatical errors.

<previous chapter> | 3 | <next chapter>

It’s him.

It has to be him.

You see it in the way he stands, the swag of his stride. But it is most apparent in the way he tastes. This Demon, though he tastes of something wild and foreboding, there is still this underlying taste that is so wholly Quaritch. And you hate him for it. Hate him for everything he is, for everything he isn’t, and for everything he should be.

You cannot even begin to fathom his creation, dare not even ask him. How does he live without being piloted at the behest of his human body? Whatever the reason, it does not matter, at least not in the present.

You are grateful that the visits to the machine have stopped, at least for now. A small reprieve. The Demon’s visits however haven’t lessened in the slightest. He visits you nightly, you think, and based on that alone, you surmise your stay thus far has lasted 2 weeks, perhaps just short of it.

You stopped resisting after that first night. The threat of losing your kuru alone was enough to instill obedience within you. He leaves as soon as he’s done; you resign yourself to deal with him as he sees fit, anything to get him away from you as soon as possible.

Every look, every lingering gaze, every word of filth that drips from his mouth; a painful reminder of your human. Your prayers to Eywa go unanswered; without tsaheylu, you are far from her reach.

---

He hates it.

He fucking hated it; to not be in control of one’s faculties. There was a pull, a tug, a thread made taught. And always did it come back to you. He cannot explain it. Your notable sudden obedience is welcome, but it does not stop the guilt that floods him to the core.

He knows what he’s done to you, continues to do to you, is wrong. And yet he continues to seek you out. There is something indescribable he finds, some intangible force that beckons him; it’s as if this cursed planet itself commands it.

He wonders how long this’ll last though. General Ardmore is growing impatient. His squad has yet to produce any results. And somehow, beyond all possible reason, you have remained stalwart against the machine. He admires it at least, such loyalty, such unfettered willpower.

Perhaps he should consider a gentle approach with you, he thinks. It seems to be working with Spider. The kid has become noticeably more friendly with him and his team, and he wonders if he can convince you both to show the squad how to get one of those dragons.

“Colonel.” Quaritch is pulled from his thoughts and turns to regard the Admiral as she approaches.

“It’s time. Bring the prisoner in, put her back in the machine. She’s had enough of a break. This time, we’re going all the way.”

“All the way? Won’t that kill her?”

“Some sacrifices are worth it Quaritch; especially if we get the information we need. Sorry to cut your, leisure time, short.” She leaves without saying another word.

His tail flicks in annoyance, ears pin to the side of his head. There it is again, that ghostly feeling, the unseen guiding hand beckoning him. A whisper of a warning. He needs to make sure those science pukes don’t hurt you.

---

When you hear the familiar swoosh of the door opening, you sit at attention on your knees, ready and expecting Quaritch.

When he strides through the door, you shuffle to get comfortable. But the look he gives you stirs something uncomfortable inside you.

“Let’s go sweetheart,” the tone of his voice is unsettling and despondent.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

“P—please…Not that…anything but that…” You beg him, eyes watering at the memory of pain. You aren’t sure you’re resolve is strong enough this time. He gently but firmly grabs you around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet.

Immediately you struggle, try to pull yourself back, but it is of little use. He’s just so much stronger than you. As he pulls you along down the winding halls, you start to cry uncontrollably. You claw at his arm, begging in a blend of Na’vi and English.

He calls for Wainfleet and Mansk to help secure you in. He leans in and whispers, “I’m sorry,”.

You don’t believe him.

---

It feels like fire dances upon your mind. The swift cut of a knife. To tear muscle from bone. The restraints cut into your skin with how strong you struggle against them, thin beads of blood trickle along their edges.

You scream with all your might, throat raw, vocals threatening to tear.

The memories they pull do not make sense; an amalgamation of colours with no discernible imagery.

Quaritch can feel annoyance radiating off the Admiral standing next to him, arms crossed and tapping her fingers. She seems completely unbothered by your cries.

“Give us what we want. Which clans are harbouring Jake Sully?” She asks you, but you make no response.

“What the hell is happening? Why can’t we pull anything clear?” She demands angrily.

“I don’t know mam! The readings aren’t making any sense!” One of the scientists is in a panic, in fact, Quaritch notices they all are. Running around, fidgeting with control panels left and right.

You start bleeding freely from your nose. Your eyes are squeezed shut in painful suffering, tears streaming down your face. It takes all his will power to not push through everyone and wretch you free.

But he’s gotta stop it. He’s gotta do something. He can’t let this crazy bitch kill you. They’d find another way. There has to be another way to get to Sully. And maybe, just maybe, killing his kid was not the best way to go about it.

Spider is definitely not going to forgive him for this. He’s not even sure why he even cares so much about the opinion of one savage raised wildling. After all Spider’s not his son; he’s Quaritch’s son. All he has is that man’s memories. He’s not him, not really.

Before he can really fall into some existential crisis, he perks up at the sound of a very familiar voice.

‘Sweetheart put the damn knife down before you hurt yourself.’

‘Wha-?! I’ll have you know my father trained me!.’

The sound of scoff. ‘Yeah I bet. C’mere and show me so I can see what he did wrong.’

That’s…his voice. And that other one, is that yours? The image on the tiny screen in front of you is slowly coming into focus. He hears a soft giggle, a melody oh so sweet.

‘You’re impossible!’

The image snaps into focus immediately, and what he is faced with, causes every nerve in his body to tense up.

There he is. Human Quaritch, there in your memory, and it seems you’re not that much taller than him. That does not make sense. There’s no feasible way for you to have been born, grow up to that height and age, and interact with his human self. Jake hadn’t been on the planet long enough for that to happen.

 He’s so confused. That shouldn’t be possible. He, that man, died years ago. What the hell is going on here? Where could you have possibly gotten these memories from? Did you make them up somehow? Figure out a way to fool the machine? He looks to you then, and his blood ran colder than the corpse of his former self.

You’re slumped back, no longer screaming, no longer fighting. Blood paints your face, broken by streams of tears. He’s about to reach for you when one final image flashes on the screen. A dark room. Looks like his old bedroom back at Hell’s Gate. There he stands, in the centre. He turns to look at the camera, at you.

‘Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…’

Before Quaritch can even reach for the emergency shut-down button, the machine suddenly sputters to a stop, sparks flying from it’s spinning mechanism. The screen before the admiral flashes red, loud static screeches from within, causing everyone to cover their ears.

“ENOUGH”

The power goes out, drenching the lab in darkness. The only light permeating is that from yours and his bodies. It takes only a few seconds for the power to return.

He looks to the General, and she is pissed.

“Care to explain, Colonel? What the hell was that?” Quaritch holds his hands up defensively.

“I have no memory of her. I don’t know what any of those images were. He didn’t talk about no Na’vi woman in any of his messages, and she sure as shit ain’t in any of the memories you gave me. I ain’t got an answer for ya.”

She eyes him suspiciously. A stare down. He can feel his ears pin back in annoyance, tail lightly swishing. But he spoke the truth.

“Fine. I believe you. Could very well be someone he acquainted with after his memories were backed up. Though that still raises more questions. And I intend to get those answers one way or another.” She looks to you then, completely unbothered by your appearance. She notices the faint rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing.

“Get her out of here. See to it that she’s ready and able in the next few days.” She walks away from him, not leaving any room for argument. She immediately goes to the scientists to assess the machine, a damage report, run diagnostics. Quaritch doesn’t need to be told twice.

Hastily he unfastens you from the machine, picks you up in his arms and rushed you to medical.

---

The doctors give you a thorough once over, made sure there was no lasting damage. To his utter relief, you were miraculously alright. But you remained fast asleep. After the check-up he brought you back to your cell, carefully placing you on the bed. He tucked your knees into you in an attempt to try and fit all of you on the bed the best he could.

He knelt before you then, stared at your face intently. You looked so peaceful, the slow rhythmic sounds of your breathing luring him in. He brushed some of your hair out of your face, the stain of blood and tears still slightly visible; the scientists did what they could. He’d have you wash yourself proper once you wake up.

His eyes widened. Would you even wake up after something like that? And why does even care, really? You aren’t anything to him; not really. Maybe you were to his human self, but even then, the memories he carries cut off before then apparently. But the longer he stares at your face, the tighter his heart squeezes. An uncomfortable knot forms in the pit of his stomach. Too afraid to dwell on these feelings, he stands and hurriedly leaves the room; he’d check on you later.

He’s got to tell Spider. The kid was going to find out about this one way or another. He’d rather the kid hear it from him.

---

“There you are! What happened before? All the lights turned off. The power go out?” Spider rushes to him as soon as he enters.

He’s words get caught in his throat as he stares down at the boy. His not-son. But he kind of is, isn’t he? The memories demand it so. The paternal feelings he has for this boy are undeniable. But whatever trust he’s brokered with the boy, he’s all but shattered now.

“Why’re you looking at me like that…?” A worried look crosses Spider’s face. “Did…Did something happen to my sister? Did you guys hurt her? Where is she?! I want to see her!!!” The longer the silence remains, the more agitated Spider becomes.

“I’m sorry kid…The science pukes, and Ardmore…They put her in that brain scan machine. It knocked her out cold.” He feels shame relaying this to the boy. The hurt and shocked look that adorns his face cuts him something deep.

“Let me see her. LET. ME. SEE. HER.” Spider tries to push pass him, but Quaritch stops him with just a hand. Spider pulls his hand away and makes for the door. And so the two start struggling. Quaritch holding him back with all his strength, all the while Spider fights him with all his might and willpower, screaming at the top of his lungs. He had to see you. Had to get to you. You can’t be hurt. He’d never forgive himself. For you to be suffering while he was out having fun with the recoms?

“LET ME GO!!! LET ME SEE MY SISTER!!! PLEASE!!! LET ME SEE [Y/N]!!!”

‘[Y/N]? That’s…your name?’ He’s taken aback by the sound of your name. Had he really not deigned to ask it of you all this time? Shameful. Disgusting.

A sharp pain suddenly slices through his skull. He pushes Spider to the side, clutching his head as he falls to his knees. He yells in pain.

Spider is taken aback by the sudden action, picking himself off the floor as he stares intently at Quaritch. Before he can ask what’s wrong, the older man gets up and exists the room in one fluid motion, no words said. Spider bangs on the door, demanding to see you, all the while he can’t stop the tears that start streaming down his face.

---

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

Your name repeats itself like a mantra in his thoughts, dances across his mind draped in silk. The pain has subsided, leaving a dull ache in its wake. He stumbles his way back into his room, collapsing onto his bed. He’s grateful that they were made with their new bodies in mind.

He thinks then, about those images he saw on that screen. He called you Sweetheart. And the looks he gave you? He meant it. The very implications themselves were troubling. What the fuck was he doing after he made these back up memories? Over and over he replays them. Those images. The sound of your laughter. And your name.

Sleep takes him before he even realises.

---

Quaritch opens his eyes with a start.

White.

That’s all he sees. There is no sky, no ground. No floor, no ceiling. Only the bright brilliance of white. He lifts his hands to his face, the blue of his hands a stark contrast to the world.

Where was he? Was he dreaming? He didn’t feel in pain anymore.

He turns himself to assess his surroundings. He finds himself floating, no solid ground beneath his feet. He tries to move then, and finds his legs are held steadfast by an invisible force. He is only able to turn his top half, barely.

A voice then, interrupts his struggling.

“You know, my son…You sure are taking your time. When I put you in that new body, I didn’t expect you to take this long to remember…”

The voice is soft like feathers, the melody of spring. But it is also deep like the ocean, dark as night, hot like fire. It bathes him in sunlight, and burns him all the same.

“Who—who’s there?! Show yourself! Where am I?!” Fear pools into his being. He does not like the feeling of not being in control.

“Silly boy…Always so feisty! It seems then, that you are in dire need…Of a little push.” On that final word, he feels a hand touch between his shoulder blades, and push him with all its might.

The world snaps to black and suddenly he’s free falling. He can’t help the scream that rips from his mouth. He hears a giggle slowly fade above him as he falls further into the abyss.

---

Quaritch sits up in his room, screaming at the top of his lungs as he does. He grabs his mask and breathes deep, trying desperately to calm himself.

Where is he? Where are you? He looks around his room, confused almost. Right, he must have fallen asleep after his talk with…his son? Miles. No, Spider. His son. His. He looks at his hands, almost expecting the golden tan of his human skin. Human?

Confused by his own train of thought, he stumbles into the bathroom to splash water on his face.

He grips the sink tightly, staring at the water as it goes down the drain.

It feels like he’s been asleep for so long. Everything is so foggy in his mind. Spider is, his son. And he called you his sister…You…You? YOU!

The memory crashes into him hard enough to knock him to the ground. Everything snaps hard into place; he feels as though his mind has been whipped a hundred times over. It is a pain he would be happy to not revisit ever again.

The last time he saw you, in the Dreamscape. You disappeared like you usually do, but then…a voice.

---

“My son…”

“Oh…it’s you.” He cannot see her. She never shows herself. But Her presence is felt. It encapsulates his entire being. He cannot escape Her influence.  He wonders if She’s here to chastise him about what he’s been doing with you.

“There is something you must do for me, Child. And I am going to put you to rest until the time is right.”

“What? To rest? Why?” Not about you, a good start. Though he finds her request strange all the same. Put a soul to sleep?

“Silly Child. Do not question. When you awaken in your new body, you will not remember. I will let you keep those, fake memories, your fellow Sky People made.” Ah. That.

“Shit…they really gonna go ahead with that?”

“Language.”

He rolls his eyes at the reprimand.

“Why put me back? Wouldn’t the backups be enough to get the body goin?”

She laughs then. As if this was truly the funniest thing imaginable.

“The arrogance of your kind astounds me, truly. No. Your, ‘backups’, will never suffice. I would never allow it. These Na’vi bodies will exist because I allow it. And they will end, because I demand it.”

“Wait, did you say Na’vi?”

---

And then, nothing.

She must have been true to her word. Cutting him off then suddenly putting him into a sort of stasis sleep.

Quaritch throws up into the toilet beside him, reeling as his mind tries so desperately to make sense of all the memories bombarding him at once. He’s not sure how long he lies there, sorting through it all. Groggily he sits up, and goes to the sink to clean his mouth properly.

The minty feeling brings some relief.

When he sees his reflection, it’s a weird feeling of something he’s never seen, and something he should be used to after being awake all this time. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration.

In image of you flashes in his mind.

‘[Y/N]???’

His eyes fly open and the thought of you. Guilt tears into his flesh, ripping through blood and sinew. He’s hurt you. He really hurt you. Used you. And you gave up, you just, took it all. He has to find you, he has to apologise, has to make it right somehow. He has to explain, he didn’t remember! Else, he’d have never—!

He runs out the room without finishing that thought.

---

The sound of a door opening is the first thing you register.

Your mind is filled with fog, senses dulled. You muster what little strength you can to open your eyes, but it’s not enough. The only thing you see is a silhouette approaching you, and in the fog of your mind, it looks so much like Your Human. You close your eyes and weep softly.

You think you feel yourself being lifted up, but you're not sure for how long. Next think you feel is the soft feeling of a bed beneath you. There is a hand on your cheek, and it is so warm, so familiar. Then a whisper of your name, and something else.

“[Y/N]…I’m so sorry darling…”

---

When next your eyes open, the room is dark. But damn do you feel refreshed. You haven’t slept that good since you got trapped in this place.

You sit up and stretch, clicking joints as you do.

Your eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, and your heart skips. This is not your cell.

It is bigger. There is a door ahead, presumably out, and what you can only assume is a bathroom door to your left. The bed you’re on is in the corner of the room, and it’s big enough for your tall body. You look to your right and cover your mouth before you can scream. You shuffle back and press yourself into the wall as if it would swallow you whole. You almost hoped it did.

There beside the bed, uncomfortably sat in a chair, arms crossed and asleep, is The Demon.

Did he bring you here? Where exactly is here?

You gaze around the room once more, taking note of some gym equipment in one corner, and the clothes neatly folded in an alcove on the wall. Slowly you move your hands from your face and breath deep, quietly. The scent is unmistakable. This must be his dwelling. You lean down and sniff the sheets. Yup, that’s him alright.

You try to move off the bed quietly, but the shuffle of the sheets is enough to alert him.

His eyes are on you immediately. You stare at each other.

You break eye contact and scramble for the door.

But he’s just as quick, and a strong arm grabs you around the waist, pulling you flush against his front. His other arm crosses over your chest to hold your arms still. You start fighting, kick and screaming, hands clawing at the arms holding you steadfast.

“Let me go! I don’t want to see you! LET ME GO YOU MONSTER! I WON’T LET YOU HURT ME ANYMORE! I’D SOONER DIE THAN LET YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN!!!”

You’re screaming at the top of your lungs. Quaritch is grateful that the rooms are sound proof.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], calm down! Please!” But you ignore his plea and continue to thrash wildly. “[Y/N]! Listen to me, please! It’s me!!!” You stop dead at that, and the Demon continues. “It’s me…[Y/N]…it’s me…”

You become stock still at those words. You heart beats hard in your chest, the implications of his words break you.

“No…no it’s not…you look like Him…you smell like Him…but you are not Him…” you spit with as much venom as you can, but can’t help the tears that flow freely. The waver in your voice breaks his heart.

“It’s me Sweetheart…I promise…Here, look at me…please…” You feel him loosen his hold on you. He moves his hands to your upper arms, and slowly he turns you to face him. Your tears continue to fall silently.

You look up at him then, meeting his gaze. And in that darkened room, you see Him. Those golden eyes shine down on you, staring at you with such reverence, sorrow, guilt, longing. It all dances in the liquid gold of his eyes. And the way he pinches his brow, is so like Him.

“…Miles?” He lets out a shaky laugh, a sigh of relief. You do remember him. Thank the Great Mother.

“Yeah…it’s me sweetheart. For real this time.” He moves one hand to your face, gently swiping his thumb to brush away your tears. It doesn’t matter, they don’t stop falling as you stare up at him.

“Seeing you in person like this…Getting to touch you, for real…You’re more beautiful than that Dream ever made you…” You scoff at him, and can’t help the smallest of smiles. His other hand moves to cup the other side of your face. You move both your hands to cover his.

“Skxáwng…I only look like this because of my soul, remember?” The low rumble of his chuckle sends shivers down your spine. Oh how you have missed him. But you can’t forget everything that’s happened. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart. His strong heart.

“…Why?” You don’t need to elaborate; he understands what you are asking of him.

“…Eywa, she…She came to me. The last time I saw you. Just after you left…”

“The Great Mother spoke to you?” You are shocked. He nods, and continues.

“She told me, she’s gotta put me back in a body. But I wouldn’t remember anything…Not properly. Before I died, I made a back up of my memories. A contingency plan in the event of my untimely death. Seems the higher ups went ahead and resurrected me and a few others, but in Na’vi bodies. But Eywa, she said, these bodies wouldn’t, exist? Without her say so, I guess. So…I’m assuming all of us recoms, are actually harbouring our original souls, that she kept. For this reason I suppose.”

You swallow thickly. It’s a lot to take in. Your eyes cast downward as you try to process it all. So Eywa, blessed Great Mother, did she foresee this? And she keep these human souls so their Na’vi bodies would live?

“[Y/N]…” Quaritch calls you, and you look up to meet his gaze. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry…I mean that, I’m really fucking sorry…Everything I did to you darling, I hurt you. Really hurt you. Please know, that wasn’t really me. I wasn’t thinking properly. If—if I remembered, I would have never—” You jump at him unexpectedly, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Instinctually he has one arm supporting your rump, his other hand splayed across your back. In this position, it’s your turn to look down at him.

 “It’s…I don’t want to say it’s okay…Because it’s not really okay…But…I understand. And I’ll forgive you, in time…” You see the quiver of his lips, his ears pressed back as he tries to not cry.

“I’ve missed you so much Quaritch…I thought you left me.” You pull him into the crook of your neck, holding his head to you tightly. He breathes deep the smell of you.

“Never darling. I would never have left you willingly. I’m sorry.” You press a kiss to the side of his head. And it’s all he needs to break. He weeps quietly into the crook of your neck. He truly never meant to hurt you, and he will hate himself for a long time for the things he did against your will.

When he stops, you gently push on his shoulders for him to lean back. When once again your eyes meet, it is your turn to wipe away his tears. You smile at him, gently tracing the stars on his face. Carefully you study his face, really looking at him. He really is Your Human, made Na’vi. Such a handsome face.

“This body suits you well, Quaritch. Then again, you were always handsome.” Even in this low light, you can see the blush that creeps on his skin.

“Heh…that right?” He smirks and you all but melt at the toothy grin. You feel his tail wrap around yours.

“Yeah…that’s right.”

You kiss him.

You kiss him and it’s filled with every lonely night, every mournful sleep, every minute of every day you missed him. You move your head to deepen the kiss, the need for breathing be damned. You feel his hands grip at you tighter, feel him press into you that much harder.

His lips are softer than you remember, and you revel in the feeling. You on the other hand, are just as he remembers; something akin to perfection. The Peace of Eden granted to him.

The two of you move your mouths along one another in a hot sloppy mess, filled with nothing but unspoken words, drenched in a cacophony of emotion. It is almost overwhelming. You feel him lick your lips, begging for entrance, and you are all too eager to oblige. You part your lips and go for his tongue first. You moans low into your mouth at your boldness. The two of you don’t fight, but let your tongues dance in each other’s mouth, tasting and drinking deep of one another.

After a time you break apart, you rest your forehead to his, nose to nose, as close as you possibly can while still being able to breath. The air is hot with your mixed breath.

“I have definitely missed you,” you say breathlessly with a smile, eyes half lidded in bliss. He smiles up at you.

“Then, let’s make up for lost time,” he says and gently lets you down back onto your feet. You entwine your hand with his and move to pull him to the bed, but he doesn’t move. You turn to look at him questioningly.

“Nuh-huh sweetheart. This time, it’s all about you.” He says and pulls you toward the door near the bed. He touches a panel on the side, and as you had expected, it opens to a bathroom.

“Come. Let me take care of you. Properly. Like you deserve.” He leads you in, the door shutting behind you. He is gentle and purposeful with his movements. He moves slowly, as if to savour every moment. He begins with undressing you. Ever since he had ripped apart your original clothes, he had given you a tank top and shorts made for one of the recom girls; though the top did little for you, considering your size.

Once you’re completely naked, he starts undoing your hair. He leads you to the far wall, two shower heads, one overhanging the other. He turns a metal knob and hot water shoots out the higher head. It falls on you like heavy rain, and you sigh audibly at the feeling.

Satisfied you’ll be okay for a moment, Quaritch takes the opportunity to undress himself as fast as possible.

Immediately he’s back at you.

You feel him undo the braid of your kuru. He tilts your head back, slowly he massages your scalp. He rubs his strong thick fingers in slow circles on your head, massaging deeply at the base of your kuru. You moan at the feeling.

“That feel good?”

“Hm-hmm,” you hum contently in response. He nods to himself.

You feel him lather something into your hair then. It smells nice, but also, very strange yet familiar. You realise it’s something you have smelt on some of the scientists back at base. It must be something they wash their hair with then. You don’t really care, more interested in the soothing way Quaritch massages your hair. Carefully he washes your hair, being extra careful with the long hair for your braid.

You can’t help but smile at the attention.

A new smell hits you, and you feel his hands on your body this time. Slowly he works, lathering softness up and down your arms, your neck, your belly, your back. When he gets to your chest, he massages your mounds for longer than you think is necessary to clean them. You don’t mind though, and enjoy the soft pleasure it gives you. You lean your head back into his chest as he continues to massage you in each hand. You feel his arousal between your ass cheeks, and it excites you that much more.

He stops himself though, can’t get too excited. He wants to finish what he started. A soft wet material is placed gently on your sex, and you feel him carefully clean your most intimate parts. When he’s done there, he’s back to using his hands, rubbing them up and down your legs, up and down your tail. He lifts one leg to wash your foot properly, and you giggle at the ticklish feeling. You playfully hit him with your tail.

“Hey, I’m trying to work here,” he says as he busies himself with your other leg.

Once his done, you expected him to get back to his feet. Instead you are caught off guard when you feel his hands squeeze both your ass cheeks apart. You turn to him, and find him on his knees, and you can clearly see just how aroused he is.

“Turn back around baby. Brace yourself on the wall, and stick your ass out for me.” You don’t need to be told twice. You pull your kuru over your shoulder to the front, letting it hang before you. He taps your laps and you spread them further. Hands and forearms pressed to the tiles, ass up. He takes your tail and wraps it around your leg, out of his way.

“Perfect,” he hums.

Slowly he stars pressing light kisses to your inner thigh. Up he travels, closer and closer to your apex. But just before reaching your centre, he moves to the other leg, continuing with his worship. All the while his hands gently massage the swell of your ass cheeks.

He stops again just short of your core and you almost whine. He takes both thumbs to either side of your lower lips and spreads you.

You make a startled moan as he does this a few times, pressing your lips together before spreading you, as if to spread your nectar evenly.

“Hmmm…such a pretty pussy all for me. I didn’t think you could grow to be any more beautiful, [Y/N]…” This time you do whine at his words.

He leans forwards and gives you a slow lick to your exposed hole. You inhale sharply at the feeling, immediately becoming slicker at the feeling. Slowly he licks you, up and down, before he moves to your clit and gently sucks.

The noises you make go straight to his hardened cock. He would give anything to be buried deep inside you right the fuck now. But no, first, he owes you this at least. He wants you to come into his mouth, he wants to know what you truly taste like. Wants to know if you taste different with his new body. He removes his mouth from you for but a moment.

“Turn around darling. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you come with my mouth,” You turn around, leaning your back to the wall for support.

He wastes no time, mouth back between your legs. But this time, his eyes are on you, and you can’t look away. He spreads your lips again, pressing his nose to your clit, while his tongue rubs along the inside of your entrance.

“Hnnf…Quaritch…” You moan his name, the feeling of his mouth on your cunt sending fire to your core. You feel the build up of an orgasm, pleasure wound tight around your soul.

One hand has you spread open. He brings his other hand up to replace his tongue. He sticks one long finger inside you, gently rubbing your inner walls. Your eyes threatening to close at the feeling.

“Keeps those eyes open, sweetness,” You will yourself to open your eyes, trying your best not to break eye contract. He turns his hand upward, and rubs a soft spongy part of you.

“Aaaahh!” You moan loudly at the feeling of him caressing your g-spot.

“There we go, that’s the spot.” He says and moves to suck your clit. He sticks another finger in, and gently rubs the same spot.

“Yes yes yes please right there! Quaritch! Please don’t stop, don’t you ever stop!” Your mouth hangs open as you moan the words. You can’t stop yourself; a hand moves to grab his short hair, and you press his face harder onto your pussy. His presses his tongue to your clit, caressing it in time with the fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Not on your life, baby.”

You feel your orgasm approaching, hot white pleasure seeming through your veins, wrapping around each nerve ending. An unfamiliar pressure builds along aside it all.

“Quaritch—I’m…I’m gonna—” You can’t get the words out properly.

“Go ahead darling. Cum for me, [Y/N], let me taste you, all of you,”

And when he sticks a third finger in to rub that soft spot, all it takes is one final hard suck to your clit.

The orgasm hits you hard, harder than he’s ever made you cum, harder than you’ve ever made yourself come.

You scream his name as burning pleasure bursts from your cunt, spreading to every part of your body. But the pleasure builds more as he continues to suck, and suddenly you feel like you’re peeing. You are shocked as you squirt clear liquid straight onto his face, there’s so much he doesn’t catch it all in his mouth. You toes curl at the uncontrollable feeling, your body shaking at the overwhelming sensation. Your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself orgasm again.

“There it is…That’s my good girl, always knew you could do it,” he praises you, fingers still buried in you. He stands up then, wrapping an arm around your back to help support you. He buries his face in your neck, sucking at your tender flesh. He slowly starts pumping his fingers inside you, you wet squelch of your pussy embarrassing to your ears.

It’s all too much, you’re not ready yet. The pleasure is boarding on painful.

“Hnnnggg…Sto…Quari...hnnff...Aaaahhh!” You can’t formulate whole words, only strangled sounds as your body burns.

“Easy baby, easy does it now.” He removes his fingers from your throbbing core. He lifts you up then, presses your back against the cold tiles, supporting you under your ass. He has one hand on his aching cock at your entrance. Slowly he rubs the tip and down your slit, coating himself in your juices.

“You’re my pretty little instrument to play, [Y/N]; and I plan to write a symphony.” He pushes into you and meets no resistance. A pitched mewl escapes your lips at the new feeling. Never have you ever felt so completely, full. This new body, you knew he’d be big, but it didn’t really register how big he was when you were sucking him off. You only just came, but already you want to cum again on his cock. You walls clench around him at the thought.

“Fuck [Y/N], you’re so tight baby—Perfectly made just for me,” he groans into your ear, but does not move; giving you a moment to adjust to his size. You secure your legs around him, tucking your ankles into the small of his back.

“Please…Please I need to move darling; you’re driving me crazy here…” He begs as he looks into your eyes. You shake your head and it takes all his willpower to not cry in frustration. But he sees you move to grab your queue, holding the tip between you two.

“First…Bond with me, Miles.” His eyes widen when you call him by his first name. His heart swells. “If we bond…know that it is for life. I will never mate with another. There will only be you…There…has only ever been you. Ever since the Dream I… I have only had eyes for you…You are, were, my human. My first love…And…I want you to be my mate...I love you,” You bring one hand up to gently cup the side of his face, gently rubbing his cheek of the stray tear.

“[Y/N]…are…are you, sure? After everything I’ve done, even when I was human…I did a lot of bad things, terrible things…Then after we captured you…Are you sure I’m the kind of man you wanna spend the rest of your life with?”

You giggle at him, wiggling your hips. He sucks in a breath, clenching his jaw.

“It is by Eywa’s will that you are brought back to me. This time, I am not letting you go,” You squeeze your legs tight, forcing him to step forward. The force alone pushes you further up the tiles, the two of you moaning as his dick pushes as far into you as possible. He doesn’t need anymore convincing. He grabs is queue and brings it to yours.

The two of you watch with baited breath as the pink tendrils slowly entwine.

The two of you drop your queues, hands immediately seeking each other as all new sensations course through you.

You feel it, the sensation of being buried deep into your warm centre, and he in turns feels the pleasure of being spread and stuffed by his own dick.

He smashes his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately. Without warning, he starts pounding into you, unable to control himself any longer.

And you don’t care. You roughly grab the back of his head, deepening the kiss, and he moans into your mouth.

His pace is fast and rough. It feels like his dick moulds itself into the walls of your slick cunt with each thrust deep inside you. You swear you can feel the tip of his cock tease your womb.

This time your orgasm is not slow. It spreads fast like wild fire, burning every nerve in body, setting your core alight with pleasure.

You breathlessly moan into his mouth. He pulls back and bites you in the neck.

“Hnnnnngggg! Miles! Right there! Yes, YES! PLEASE!” You moan at the pain and pleasure, feeling him lick at the bruise forming.

“Tell me! Tell me how good it feels!”

“AAAaaaaaahhh!!!” You can’t respond to his demands, he starts pumping into slower, but harder, grunting each time he bottoms out into you.

“You think I forgot about those shitty brats from your clan? I wonder what they think of you know all grown up, massive fucking tits, these wide hips. Perfect for carrying a baby. Is that what you want, [Y/N]?” You cry at the pleasure assaulting your nerves, his words stroking something deep and primal within you. Never had you ever considered having children, especially since he had been human. But now, with this Na’vi body?

“YES! YES! YES! Please Colonel, stuff me, fuck me, breed me! Cum in me! Put a baby in me! Make me yours!!!”

He chuckles, and the deep bravado of his voice nearly tips you over the edge.

“You were always mine darling. Eywa must’a made you just for me. You’re MINE, you hear me?!” He starts pounding fast again, his pace unrelenting.

“I love you too—I love you I love you—!” he repeats in your ear over and over again. And so the cord snaps, and your orgasm rains on you, pleasure piercing you. Your walls tighten, and the vice grip is all Quaritch needs to finish. He holds himself as close to you as possible, almost painfully into your pelvis bone.

You feel his pleasure through the bond, you hear the guttural sound he makes as he coats your walls with his seed. He rests his head into the crook of neck, breathing heavily. You feel the strain of his muscles as he tries to hold the both of you up.

You untangle yourself to stand, and he welcomes the reprieve.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his around your waist, bringing each other as close as possible. You hold each other like that, with his head in your neck, for a short while. Gently do the two of you sway from side to side to some phantom music.

Eventually though, you start to feel a little uncomfortable being in the hot water this long. He feels this too through the bond, and pulls back, pulling himself from you as he does.

You moan at the feeling of his cum running down your leg. What you don’t expect is him scooping some with his fingers and sticking it back up into your sensitive pussy. You yelp with surprise.

“Don’t waste any darlin’,” he says with a cheeky grin. And he doesn’t stop. He pulls another orgasm from you with just his fingers.

“That’s is baby, just like that…” he whispers into your ear and you squirt all over again.

---

By time you two are actually done in the shower, you cannot stand on your own. Quaritch didn’t mind though, all too happy to dry you and carry you to the bed himself. He towel dries your hair carefully, mindful of the bond yet to be broken.

You help him braid your hair back over your queue. It is a very intimate thing, and he feels your heart swell at the activity.

“So…does this mean we’re married?” He asks as he finishes the bottom of braid. You giggle at him.

“Yes. You are my mate. My partner. My husband,” you smile sweetly as the words leave your lips.

“Hmm…My wife.” He likes the sound of that.

“Yes, husband?”

He looks at you for a second, confused, before he understands. Oh yes, he definitely likes the sound of that.

“Come here you!” He grabs you and you laugh uncontrollably as he squeezes you to him, peppering your neck and face with light kisses.

He pulls you to lie back down on the bed with him, you nestle into his side, arm draped over his broad chest, head resting in the crook of his neck. He puts an arm securely around your waist, his other hand comes to entwine with yours laying over him. Your bond rests protected under your joint hands.

You plant a soft kiss to his neck, and he looks to meet your gaze lovingly.

“I love you, Miles. Oel ngati kameie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Truly. Deeply. Forever. Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N].”

And you believe him.

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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been following this mini series! Please do leave a comment and share your thoughts with me!

SO! My friend linked me this AI that kind kind of mimic voices if it's learnt off a good enough sample...You best BELIEVE, I attempted to make Quaritch lmaoooo. Anyway enjoy that. It's a bid hard to find balance between sounding close to the original, but also getting it to emote properly!

It's a work in progress ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios

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<previous chapter> | 3 | <next chapter>

Jealousy? You Wear it Well

word count: 1529

Pairing: Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader Tags: fluff, romance, cute, silly, oneshot Author's note: A quick oneshot dedicated to @royallaufeyson! Saw their post asking for this pairing fluff and thought I'd give it a go. Hopefully it's too your liking :)

Ao’nung considers himself many great things; strong, skilled hunter, a remarkable swimmer. But jealous? No, never. Why would he be jealous? And of that stupid ikran? Perish the thought. What’s there to be jealous about really? Nothing, that’s what!

Yet here he finds you, his darling Omatikayan future mate, tending to your ikran, instead of meeting up with him like you were supposed to an hour ago.

You don’t even hear his approach, and that in itself stirs an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. You have your back to him, standing before your own ikran. You’re rubbing his neck and humming soothing words as he rests his head on your shoulder. Naturally, the accursed beast is the first to spot his approach.

Suddenly his head is off your shoulders and he hisses with a faux threat, his attention behind you.

“Hoan?” You look up at your ikran, confused by his sudden change in attitude. Noticing his gaze is fixated on something behind you, angry at something intruding on your alone time, you turn around to see what the fuss is about.

A wide grin splits your face, recognizing the would-be intruder as your beloved future mate.

“Ao’nung!” His name slips through your lips like siren song, turning your whole lithe form to him and jog to meet his approach halfway. No matter how many times he sees you, once again is he left awestruck by your visage. As you run to him, those untamed locks flowing freely behind you, your form is caught in the last rays of sunlight before eclipse; a golden luster leaving kisses upon your skin.

And he melts. Ready is he to prostrate himself before such beauty. He catches you in his strong arms with little effort, you are so light and lithe coming from the forest.

Your arms instinctually wrap around his neck and you kiss him without hesitation. A short quick peck and you pull away to look down into his eyes, pale blue meeting gold.

“Hi,” you say and he returns your smile as he places you on your feet once more. You don’t untangle your arms around his neck. His hands are on hips, holding you close.

“Hi yourself,” he says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you say back with a smile.

Hoan makes an annoyed huff behind you, clacking his jaw a few times. You turn to look at him, ears perked up.

“Hoan, what’s gotten into you recently?” Your attention is immediately pulled to your ikran, instantly removing your arms from Ao’nung’s neck as you make your way back to the creature in question. You don’t see the slight frown that forms on your beloved’s face as he watches you walk away. But your hand catches his, and without looking back, you pull him along with you. A roll of the eyes, ‘of course this thing needs you right this very moment’ he laments to himself.

“Sweet boy, what’s got you huffing and chuffing?” As you ask this you let go of Ao’nung’s, placing both hands on either side of Hoan’s face. “Are you still hungry?” you look to the side and see the fish portions remain untouched.

“Hmm…He must grow tired of the same meal. Poor thing must miss yerik and talioang meat.” You lament as you rub his neck soothingly. He makes a light trilling noise as you do. “Maybe you prefer some soft-shell meat, yes? I think I saw some in a pool nearby. Ao’nung, can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back!”

“Well I—” and before he can even protest, you’ve sprinted off, his arm outstretched to your retreating form. After a beat he drops his arm back to his side and sighs deeply. An awkward silence permeates the air. He can feel Hoan staring at the back of his head. Probably plotting his demise. He turns then, fixing a scowl at the creature, though mindful not to make direct eye contact.

“There’s probably nothing wrong with you, is there?” he asks, as if the beast would understand him perfectly. Hoan blinks, tilting his head from side to side as if confused, cawing at him.

“Oh don’t you play innocent with me. You kept her here on purpose didn’t you? Think you’re real smart hogging all her attention.”

Hoan doesn’t give away any indication he understood anything directed at him. Instead he busies himself cleaning the inner parts of his wing; utterly ignoring Ao’nung it seems.

The boy in question shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Turning around to once again face the direction you went.

“Skxáwng ikran…” he mutters to himself.

SMACK!

His hand flies to the back of his head, something having hit him. He turns around and looks down, finding a portion of sand and drool covered fish at his heals. He frowns and looks up Hoan, the offending creature has his head buried in his other wing.

Ao’nung eyes him up and down, taking a few steps back before turning around once more. Where the heck were you?

SMACK!

“Hey!” He turns around angrily and again he finds fish at his heels while Hoan is preening himself; the picture of innocence. “You better stop that or else!” A fool Ao’nung is then, to turn his back once more, because as soon as he does—

SMACK!

This time when he turns around, Hoan is instead looking right at him. The offending creature honks at him rhythmically, and to the annoyed Ao’nung, that almost sounds a damn laugh. Without a second thought, he picks up the nearest piece of fish and lobs it at Hoan’s head. He hits him square in the face, the fish leaving a sandy red kiss to his temple.

Were it possible, Ao’nung thinks the face Hoan’s giving him right now would be that of the utter most offence anyone has ever taken in the history of the forever. He picks up another piece and throws it Ao’nung, hitting him in the chest and leaving the same gross smelly mark.

“So you have chosen war.” Ao’nung states, a war cry leaves his lips and he grabs the pieces near him into his arms, throwing them at Hoan.

The ikran responses immediately, a loud hiss and raw at Ao’nung, this time he grabs as many pieces in his mouth as he can, throwing them haphazardly at his opponent, some missing him completely.

The two of them go at it for a while, the pieces becoming nearly unrecognizable as time passes. All the while, Ao’nung laughs, what a silly thing he finds himself doing, having a, fish war, with your ikran. The beast itself making all manner of caws, bellows, yips, snarls and chirps.

So engrossed are the two of them that they naturally do not here your approach until it is too late.

“By the Great Mother, what is going on here???”

Immediately they both stop, dead still are they, like two naughty children being caught red handed. They turn to you then, you standing off to the side, a small basket balanced on your hips, filled with various molluscs.

Ao’nung drops the pieces he’s holding, straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Well you see, [Y/N], we were just—” another piece hits him in the side of the head. He turns and frowns at Hoan, who has his head facing the other way, turned to the sky as if the most interesting thing he’s ever seen is there right now.

“Pffft….Pffthahahahaha!” A melodious laugh bursts forth from you, and Ao’nung turns to you alarmed; a light blue dust paints itself up his neck and across his cheeks. “The two of you are ridiculous! Look at you! Covered in sand and fish blood.” You shake your head, smile never wavering. You set the basket beside Hoan, knowing you wouldn’t have to shuck the creatures yourself. It will be good for him to use his wing claws to pry them open.

“Silly boy, Hoan!” You tease and make tsaheylu. “Make sure you wash yourself thoroughly before you return to the others. Else Bob will never let you forget,” you say out loud for Ao’nung’s benefit before disconnecting and approaching said boy.

He huffs at you and turns away.

There is a cheeky smile on your face as you look up at him, arms behind your back.

“So…”

“So…?”

“Having fun without me?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about honestly.”

You shake your head at his antics and grab his hand.

“Come, let’s get you cleaned up in the heated pools,” you say and walk off, pulling him behind you by your joint hands.

You turn to look at him behind you, not slowing your pace as you do.

“And Ao’nung?”

“Yes?”

“Jealousy? You wear it well yawne,” you tease him, letting the word roll of your tongue, dripping in liquid gold. You can’t help but giggle when you see the shocked look on his face, the darkening of his skin renewed tenfold. He turns his face elsewhere.

“Sh—shut up…”

You laugh once again facing forward and squeeze his hand.

He smiles contently, and gently squeezes back.

----

Oel ngati kameie - I see you

yerik - the hexapede

talioang - the sturmbeest 

skxáwng - stupid/moron/idiot

yawne - my love