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~ I HATE YOU BUT I LOVE YOU ~ ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS PROMPTS
requested by: anonymous request: hello I'm writing a lovers to enemies to lovers book but I really need some prompts bc I think there's too much bickering and not enough fluff 😭😭 pls help
Feel free to use and reblog!
saying one thing but meaning the other aka acting hateful but having loving feelings
^ "You're the worst person" *while being super gentle/caring with the other*
"I'd do everything to ensure that they don't get away with it." *literally helping them get away with it*
A: "Ugh, I hate [Person B] so much" C: "But they're so sweet and nice to you." A: "Yeah, exactly. That's so hateful of them."
the other person has always made their blood boil but it takes them a while to realise that the reasons have changed
how can someone be so aggravating and so arousing at the same time?
being mean and provoking upfront just to do nice and thoughtful things behind their back
*both bickering* *Person A suddenly going quiet and grinning at Person B* Person B: "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Person A: "Because you're just arguing so much with me because you like me." *Person B turning red*: "... nOo..."
realising their feelings for the other person but it just makes them meaner because they're overcompensating (after all, no one should know that they're actually in love with person B)
they have been very snippy and full of snide remarks towards person B but since they realised they have feelings for them their mind goes blank and they go mute in front of person B
avoiding the other person as they're enemies but full on ghosting them once they realise their own feelings for their enemy
trying to mask their feelings in the least obvious way: just openly telling them how they're feeling because they wouldn't believe it anyway
^ "Do you know that you actually have a special place in my heart? Oh, how I love and cherish you!" "Yeah, fuck you too!"
A: "Do you sometimes feel that the line between hate and love can be very thin?" B: "They are the strongest feelings after all. Maybe they're actually the same and it doesn't make a difference whether you hate or love."
A: "Stop messing with me! You could never love me!" B: "Oh, if only you knew! I hate how much I love you!"
Uhh... a Na'vi I guess?
Do you know the "fav movie x fav something else you're on too" drawings? Welp, I tried a weird "crossover" this time, fav SCI-FI movie x fav character! Maybe it can be part of an AU, idk, I'm not gonna elaborate too much bc Ik y'all are already thining this is bizarre enough >_<
ESP:
Les voy a ser sincero, tengo gustos bien raros, aunque también una imaginación inquieta. Entonces, después de ver la secuela de mi película favorita, tuve una idea que me llegó como estrella fugaz que no me daba el valor de plasmar y publicar por el "qué dirán". No obstante, luego de ver que más y más artistas se lanzaban a realizar "crossovers" inusuales, pensé "¿entonces por qué yo no?" para ponerme manos a la obra. En fin, luego de una semana de trabajo aquí tienen a Pure Vanilla como uno de esos aliens, pueden considerarlo un AU de alguna manera aunque me da pena explayar por lo (ya de por sí) extraña de la idea X'D
THIS DUDE I fucking love that ride
I just went on the Avatar: Flight of Passage ride for the first time…
How do they expect me to NOT spiritually ascend to a far away planet filled with 10 foot tall blue aliens after that??
IM SO GRATEFUL THAT IM NOT THE OBLY ONE WHO THOUGHT IF THAT💀
YOU KNOW WHO THIS MOTHERFUCKER LOOK LIKE LOWKEY??
LOOOOK
Tuk… LMFAO
(Amazing art btw🫀)
I'm working on every option don't know when I'm gonna finish but i promise I will.
Cr: @ t0017w on twitter
Taglist:
@luvlykrispy @hanhanartz @answer-the-sirens @neteyamsgirll @rough-buddy-that-is @selinbaskaya @nervousaestheticoverpositivity @stacyuwu @zhenzhenscloset @im-kaii @soothinghummerz @atokirina-writings @ripneteyam @cubaton1551 @babamiasworld @vxqiio @daydreamer2k @sereisstuff @shindoswhore @kanaekocho @lovelyspecs @yuimius @sugarsticksss @solstealer @orinlin @katieavatarfan @lillypad44 @oomietopia @moshiaess @justafag @jgem2 @chanyeolsbeloved @trsmyuka @iameatingmyhair @kawaistrawberry21 @roryclo03 @awliknisa @wandamaximoffs69 @historygeekqueen @dragongoosespike @duckmania127 @rainbowsocks @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @epicy0n @hooman-tree @roselilasstuff @kikosaurscave @ellaynaa @lamb292 @selkie-at-sea @serenaaasworld
Das some good shit 🥹🤤
* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
part one | part two
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
- warnings: power imbalance? confessions of love, pining, age gap (reader is 21) nsfw content — mating, p in v, lovemaking, female masturbation, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, bonding (connecting of queues) SLIGHT mentions of ao’nung x reader
summary: It’s been a few weeks since your last encounter with Tonowari, but every time you think of the Metkayina leader, your heart begins to race in your chest. You haven’t felt this way since the beginning of your adolescence, and your crush on Tonowari is hitting you full-force; deciding it’s ultimately best to admit your feelings for him before your father chooses a mate for you.
There’s a fire inside of you that’s been set ablaze since your encounter with Tonowari.
It’s a shameful fire, which burns within you constantly. You’re fiery, irritable, frustrated. You mope and pout, pondering on what your future mate will think if they were to ever find out what had happened. If your pure, angelic reputation was to be discovered as tainted — would you still be wanted?
All that consumes you is him. You think back on how vulnerable you were, how small and timid and accepting you had been, sinking to your knees to serve him like it was your duty. Perhaps it was your duty to truly help him, because after all - you gave him that damned flower.
The way you feel burns. Your skin is hot, your fingers curling down on your pillowcase, your hips gently rutting against your mattress like you're a cat in heat, breathy, quiet moans slipping past your lips as you try to grind yourself to an orgasm.
You’d felt this way before. During your adolescence you grew cloudy and desperate for relief, but as you grew older, developing into a mature, adult Na’vi, that feeling soon fizzled away, content with knowing such feelings would never arise again until you’d met your mate.
And you hadn’t met your mate, at least not yet. The man that you crave to mate with, the man who defiled your mouth and admitted to thinking only of you is not your mate. Tonowari is already mated, and though she is with Ewya now, his life is promised to her. Your nose crinkles as you think of him, his large frame towering over yours as he played with your curls, deep groans rumbling from his chest as he fucked your mouth.
It's so painful as you pick up speed, rutting against your pillow pitifully, your stomach flipping and wetness beginning to pool from your cunt, because you know Tonowari could make you feel so much better.
He's so much bigger than you - even one of his fingers could break you, have you crying and withering beneath him, legs trembling as you beg for more. It's painful because you can't actually cum - your eyes prick with tears and you gasp, your clit stimulated by the fabric of your bedding, your stomach pooling with a insatiable warmth.
But no matter how hard you rut, no matter how hard you think of Tonowari and his eagerness to use you for his own good, your orgasm never comes. It fades into the abiss, and your hips still, your chest heaving as you left out a strained huff, all senses of pleasure oozing away from you.
You wonder how you will ever get over this crush you have on Tonowari. You groan as you collapse into your hammock, unsatisfied and unfulfilled, cursing yourself for falling so deeply for a man who is already mated.
All you can wonder is how your chosen mate will feel, when he discovers that you are pining for his leader and are unsatisfied because of it.
The next few days blur into one. Your father is encouraging you to mingle with the boys of the Metkayina clan, even suggesting you become friends with Tonowari’s children as a means to find a potential mate.
“You’re not getting any younger,” your father had told you, his hand smoothing your curls down softly. “And I know this isn’t what you wanted, and that choosing a mate is a long process. But the boys of the Metkayina clan are alright, and you’ll find someone you like at some point, sweetheart. In fact, your mother and I both think that Ao’nung seems nice.”
“I don’t want Ao’nung,” you had said, your tail thrashing angrily behind you as your father placed a reassuring hand on your back. How were you to tell your parents that you didn’t wish to mate with Ao’nung because you wanted his father instead?
It’s ironic, really. When you think of it, Ao’nung is much closer in age to you than his father is. In fact, he’d probably be a much more suitable mate, and you half expected your father to go ahead and arrange it with Tonowari anyway.
The thought of Tonowari makes you feel slightly nauseous. He has children, and he has been mated before, and your parents would certainly not approve of him. Perhaps you should listen to your father - Ao’nung is a nice boy.
Yet, despite all of the negatives, Tonowari is on your mind, constantly. The spark he ignited inside of you the night he confronted you about the irayo flower has been set ablaze since, burning high and mighty and consuming every ounce of you.
You can’t stand it anymore. You need him to put the fire out, to blow out the sparks he lit within you.
That’s why you’re in his hut, your tail swaying shamefully, your eyes fixated on Tonowari, whose browline is crinkled in concern. His presence makes you feel so warm, so drowsy, and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, and everything you’d planned to say wilts away.
"What is wrong, little one?" Tonowari asks, his hands grazing your face, moving the stray hair away from your face. "You have been avoiding me - running away when you see me at the communal camp, darting behind rocks to avoid being seen. Yet now you are here, in my hut, in my home, wanting to speak but saying nothing at all."
"I am to be mated," you force out, your tongue feeling cotton-dry in your mouth, your throat constricting as you speak. Tonowari's features stay neutral, void of any readable expression. "Well, I am to choose a mate.”
"I know. You are a mature Na'vi now." His voice is thick as he speaks, his eyes boring into yours. "You are conflicted as to who to choose?”
Your ears pin backward shamefully, guilt washing through you as his he cups your cheeks softly, Tonowari's large frame towering over yours. His touch sends sparks shooting over your skin, and you mumble, “There are many noble men to choose from. My father has suggested Ao’nung,” you say, your throat dry as you spit out the name of his son. Tonowari does not react. “I just fear the one I wish to choose will not choose me.”
Tonowari’s ears flitter against his head, his eyes trailing over towards the wilted irayo flower which sits besides his hammock, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “My son is to become a mighty warrior yet. I do not think he would treat a woman like you how you deserve to be treated.” He blinks, irritation rolling throughout him. “Who is it you wish to choose, little one?” He whispers, his fingers soft as they graze your cheekbones, and your heart hammers in your chest as he dips, to shrink closer to your height.
“I wish to choose you, Tonowari,” you murmur, your body flooding with warmth as his palm cups your cheeks, his ocean eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. “But it feels wrong to even say.”
Your lips tremble softly as you speak, and Tonowari shoots you a fleeting smile, his nose pressing against yours. “You wish to choose me because I can make you feel good,” he whispers, his ears raised on his head, his fingers darting over your shoulder. “Isn’t that right, little one? Isn’t that what you’ve been thinking about all these weeks?”
Guilt pulsates through you as his fingers run down your waist, resting at the strap of your loincloth. Your stomach feels tight, and your body warm, your senses are clouded with him. “Tonowari, you have children.”
“I can always have more,” he tells you, his voice deep as it rumbles in his chest. Your heart races as his fingers skilfully untie the knot of your loincloth, your stomach pooling with a familiar sense of arousal as he does so. “Do you want this as bad as me, little one?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, your voice dry as cotton as you speak, your skin trickling with goosebumps when your loincloth falls to the floor, the costal breeze washing through the hut and riding up your skin.
“That is not an answer.” Tonowari’s voice is husky, his ocean eyes flickering with unknown emotion as he stares at your bare frame. “I need you to tell me you want it.” He presses, his fingers darting against the bare skin of your hip, and your breath hitches in your throat as he stands over you, tall and mighty.
The Olo'eyktan stares down at you, waiting, wanting. He is burning with need — burning almost as brightly as you.
“Yes,” you murmur, gasping as Tonowari’s hands pull you in roughly, his palms kneading at the skin of your ass. “Yes, I want this.”
“That is all you had to say.”
A pathetic whine crawls out of your throat as Tonowari’s body presses you against the wall of his hut. He’s much bigger than you, terrifyingly so, and it has a pool of arousal swirling in your stomach. Tonowari’s hands eagerly press your thighs apart, his overwhelmingly large frame dropping to the ground as he kneels before you, his breath fanning against your cunt.
“I think you wanted this more than me,” he breathes, sliding a finger through your sticky folds, his cock pulsing when you writhe above him.
It feels so deliciously good but so immoral when his lips connect with your cunt. There’s a spark of heat that flashes through you, which snakes up your spine and bites at every nerve. It’s dangerous, it’s hot, and it’s electric. The simple sensation of his lips suckling around your clit has you burning with desire, and you buck your hips against him vigorously.
There’s a sense of danger when Tonowari’s thick finger swirls around your hole. It has the hair pricking up your skin, the overriding sense of fear edging against the fiery nub of pleasure which burns like a flame in your belly. “Tonowari,” you whimper, tensing up as his finger smoothly glides into your cunt, clenching down on his digit involuntarily.
“Stay still, little one. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice rumbly, vibrating against your clit. His tone is so sharp that you have no choice but to listen, despite the fact that your muscles are screaming at you to move.
Tonowari’s finger is so wide and intrusive, foreign, unknown. Yet it curls inside of you so gently, massaging your walls carefully, that your body relaxes. His tongue works at you skilfully, and you’re blissfully aware of how experienced he is. The thought makes your skin prick with heat because he has been mated before, so this is not new for him, and your emotions are much more heightened for you. The desire within him is not burning as brightly as the desire inside of you, and the thought makes you feel insecure.
You can’t even think about his mating status right now, though. You can’t focus on anything but the curling of his fingers inside of your cunt and the swirling of his tongue around your clit. This is so much better than rutting against the pillow in your room, trying to chase an unachievable orgasm, moaning his name in the depths of despair and need and want.
Tonowari’s lips are pressing so needily against your cunt that you feel like you’re being gorgeously devoured. You try to still the gasp which climbs up your throat, but you can’t. You’re so loud, so desperate to be heard, and it only makes him glide his finger in and out of your cunt faster, carefully beginning to push another inside, stretching you out.
The burn from the stretch is numbed by his tongue, which works softly against your clit. “You’re so wet,” Tonowari murmurs, pulling away from your cunt to admire your swollen, leaking pussy. “I forgot how easily pleased virgins are.”
Your cunt looks desperate, eager to be used, leaking with so much slick that it looks like it’s crying. He hums in approval, his breath fanning over your sensitive cunt, causing goosebumps to rush up your skin.
“It hurts,” you squeak, pawing at his braids like a cat, bucking against him to dull the burning pain from the stretch of his fingers.
He doesn’t utter a word, burying his face closer into your cunt, and your breath hitches, your hips stilling when you feel it. A fire sparks inside of you — burning wildly, freely, and your legs begin to shake involuntarily, your dull fingernails pressing into Tonowari’s hair, pulling him closer. “Please,” you beg, your chest heaving as his fingers curl perfectly inside of you, “I’m so close.”
“That’s it, little one,” he coos, his fingers relentless as they pump into you, the sounds of your squelching cunt echoing around his hut, muffled slightly by his mouth, which suckles eagerly at your clit. “Come undone for me, my pretty girl.”
It’s impossible to neglect an order from the Olo'eyktan, especially when he says it so nicely. You rut your hips, desperate for more, the friction of Tonowari’s tongue and the steady pumping of his fingers putting out your fire. It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt — your muscles somehow relax and constrict at the same time, your cunt pulsing and throbbing manically, your frame shaking from overstimulation. It’s impossibly good, morally shameful, and Tonowari rides you through your orgasm, peppering soft kisses to your cunt.
When he finally pulls away, a string of his salvia follows him lewdly, and his eyes are star-stricken, dazed, fixated entirely on you. The pupil is so blown you can no longer see the light aqua of his eyes, and you struggle to catch your breath as he grabs your arms and forces your body to face the wall.
“Can I bond with you?” He’s breathless, his head lulling against the back of yours.
His breath fans against your neck, making the hair on your skin stand upwards, your tail thrashing with need. “You want to bond with me?” You ask, an edge of exasperation in your tone as Tonowari forces your legs further apart.
“Only if you wish,” he tells you softly, gently beginning to work his tip between your folds, gathering your slick. The sensation makes you feel all warm and gooey, and your hips involuntarily buck downwards to meet his length. “But if we do not bond, we will not be truly mated.”
“Then, please,” you whimper, “make the bond.”
You can feel him smile against the nape of your neck in response to your words. Your cunt is slick with wet, eager to take him in, but you know that his cock is incredibly thick, and his fingers have most certainly not prepared you enough.
Tonowari’s tip aligns with your hole, and your breath stills in your throat. He doesn’t move - doesn’t dare to raise his hips, his breathing even and steady as he raises his queue to yours, a throaty groan slipping past his lips as the tendrils begin to connect.
You feel nothing but him. You experienced nothing but him. Tonowari is everything, everywhere, and it’s like there’s now an inferno inside of you. You’re uncomfortably hot, and the need to take him becomes overwhelming, so you shuffle your hips down, but his hand raises to stop you.
“You’re not ready, little one,” Tonowari mumbles, his fingers gently massaging your hips. “It will hurt. You remember the stretching of your mouth a few weeks ago, yes?”
“Of course. It’s all I could think about.” You say honestly, your face flushing with warmth as he pinches you teasingly.
“It will stretch more than that. Burn more than that. Your cunt is not used to me yet.” He hisses as he gathers more of your slick, making sure his lavender tip is well-lubed. “I haven’t broken you in.”
“Then break me in.”
Tonowari’s teeth graze at the back of your neck — a warning, and it makes you whine, needy for him and his length. “Okay. Stay still, little one - it's going to hurt.”
Your mouth opens to respond, but the words never come out. Tonowari gently begins to coax his cock inside of you, your velvet walls swallowing the tip almost instantly, your ears pinning backwards in response to the pain.
It’s agonising. Tonowari can feel your pain through the bond, and he grunts, continuing to force his cock inside of you. “Breathe, little one,” he says, his hands gently rubbing your arms. “I don’t want you passing out on me.”
The stretch is unbearable. The last sparks of pleasure from your previous orgasm dwindles, and you’re left shocked with the sudden realisation that Tonowari might not even fit inside of you.
“Is it going in?" You ask desperately, your voice hoarse. A gentle kiss is placed to the back of your neck by the Olo'eyktan, a shiver shooting up your body in response.
“You’re taking me so well, little one," he hisses, his cock twitching with need as your cunt finally swallows the mushroom of his cock, sheathing him from the outside world.
"Hurts," you mumble, head lulling on his brawny chest. Tonowari's strong arms hold you in place, pain biting and pinching at every nerve inside of your body. "Hurts so bad."
"Relax," Tonowari says, his voice so low and rumbly it makes arousal rush to your core. You feel so warm and gooey, so broken, so wrong. You're mating someone whose practically the same age as your own father, but when he pushes inside of you an inch more, you find yourself uncaring.
A broken mewl slips past your lips as his hefty cock brushes against your g-spot, his fingers toying at your sensitive clit in an attempt to null you into relaxation. "Tonowari," you gasp, shocks of electric pulsing through your spine when his pace steadies, his cock unable to stretch your cunt any further.
His hands clutch at the plush flesh of your thighs, grunts slipping past his lips as he fucks into you. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard — the sounds of his desperation merging with the sound of your squelching cunt, which echoes lewdly around the hut, makes you even needier. There's nothing worse than this feeling. The heat consumes you, burning like an inferno.
You whine, bucking down against his length, basking in the incredulous pain from the stretch of him.Your cunt feeling so tight and full, clenching down around his thick length. It feels like you're milking him, and Tonowari hisses, readjusting his hips as to not push himself over the edge.
The bond makes you feel everything. Every good thing about Tonowari washes through you, blinds you - you know every error of his ways, aware of all of his good and bad, and you take him. You rut down onto him, your hips shuffling in sync with his. Tonowari's fingers are careful and delicate as they circle around your clit, the bundle of overstimulated nerves sending you into an overdrive.
You're so wet, it's crazy. Your cunt is practically pulsing, desperate and needy to be used. And he won't do it. Tonowari is rutting into you at a delicate pace, his strokes smooth and even, as not to hurt you. If Tonowari went any faster, he'd rip you apart — at least, that's what it feels like, but you're so overwhelmed with need that you don’t care.
"I want more," you force out, whimpering as his teeth graze against your ears. "I need more."
"I want to fill you up, little one," Tonowari growls, his rumbling shooting throughout your body. "Can I? Is that what you would like?"
Warm, hot flashes. A painful stretch, a beautiful moment. His cock is nestled deep inside of you, brushing beautifully against the spongy spot inside of your cunt. You're so slick, so wet. His movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length gorgeously.
"Yes, I'd like that," you mumble, crying out as Tonowari's fingers abandon your clit and grab onto your hair, his hips beginning to roll into you faster. "Please."
Everything feels so raw, so sensitive, so new. You're desperate, needy for an orgasm, and the familiar feeling of pressure pools in your lower belly. Warmth consumes you, drowns you, nips at every nerve, and you let go.
It feels perfect. Liberating, free. Hot, white flashes spark through you, your vision peppering with black stars. It feels like you've known Tonowari forever, and your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up any longer. He holds you, strong and safe, your Tonowari. Your mate, who pumps his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout his hut, puts your fire out.
"Thank you, thank you, oh Ewya, thank you," you blabber, tears staining your dark-blue cheeks, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions which wash through you.
It's perfect. Everything's perfect. Even the strange sensation of Tonowari's sticky cum pooling out of you when he pulls out of your cunt, a gentle grunt slipping past his lips. There's a dull throbbing from the absence of him, and goosebumps rise on your skin when he brushes his nose against your shoulder, breathing in your scent.
"I see you,"" Tonowari says, gently smacking his cock against your plush ass, watching as the last of his cum dribbles out and paints your skin. "All of you."
"This was so wrong," you mumble, your face flushing red when his nose nuzzles into your neck.
"There is no going back. We are mated, now.” He presses a gentle kiss against the feverish skin of your neck. "You will make a fine Tsahìk."
You feel nothing but him when he finally prys away from your exhausted body. Tonowari smiles down at you, brushing your curls away from your face gently. His fixation on you makes you nervous - he is so big, towering over you by at least two feet, making you feel meek and small.
"I see you," you mumble back, eyes wide in surprise when he places a soft kiss to your lips.
How the hell are you going to explain to your family that you are now going to be Tsahìk?
taglist: @moonpie3000 @theycallmesia @lianawolf @vmptears @love-chx @yataisha @misscaller06 @plzfeedmebread @totesnothere04 @alezarin @thesecretsoftheuniverse @ikranwings @clockmax
I saw this and thought of Neteyam and Lo'ak fucking around. Maybe even Lo'ak and Kiri XD
Shit I could even see it as [Y/N] and Tsu'tey if they were siblings too omg.
@olivia-the-weirdo @rsclopez @totesnothere04 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @milknhonies
p.s hope ya'll don't mind I keep tagging you in random nonsense, let me know if you want me to stop!
Ye pls someone explain this shit 🤣
At least Quaritch actually values his son than Afton did for his children.
Hey so if spider makes it through everything and all that what’s the plan
Like are we just gonna have an elderly man one day chillin with his still-young little siblings on the beach until one of them smacks him for a snide ass comment and breaks him in half?
Putting spider to Moana was a bad idea I will not be sleeping
This is too fucking cute I cannot
To You, From Me by Naethan Apollo is a rocorro song
Anyone else stupid curious as to what would happen if Spider got one of those breathe underwater magic fish things
Thinking about a Kiri desperate for answers who begs Ewya to see her, to talk to her, to just give her a chance. About her slipping into the water and connecting to the tree of souls when she knows she can’t. About her crying into warm sand as she racks her brain for memories she can’t quite reach and not knowing if they’re even hers.
About a Kiri meeting an aunt she never met, who brushes the hair from her face and whispers about before all this. About a school yard and a her mother as little as Tuk. She dreams of glimpses of red hair and a teacher, not a mother yet. She can’t imagine a life as peaceful as that could really be real.
A Kiri who opens her eyes and is immediately on the floor, a narrow eyed man pulls her up and holds her shoulder tight as if he didn’t shove her to the dirt the moment before. Tsutey is barely there before he is gone but she feels strong as stone. She wants to ask what he was going to say but the ground under her feet is growing growing growing until the earth reclaims her as it did him.
Her grandfather is found when she tries to bond to a tree with a shimmer in its bark. Is not a soul tree but she thinks there’s something there. He whispers about failures. About passing his burden to his youngest daughter’s oldest son. How he almost ended a cycle. How he didn’t.
She never thought about the people in bridgehead that were like Norm, Max, Trudy, Grace - they couldn’t be people in the stories or else the fires were too hot. But she breathes in the air of one of Norms meal kits and the metal floor beneath her feet is littered with candy wrappers and paper. There’s laughter, clinking of vials, a song humming through a tinny radio, and humanity feels a little too real. Her skin suddenly feels thin, her bones weaker. Her body is too big and too awkward but there’s a haze she hopes they felt all the way til the end. She never forgets how warm the sun through a window felt on such fragile skin.
Spider is so small and so stubborn and she can’t protect him. She’s screaming into the soil, begging for her mother to tell her what to do, and then the smoke fills her lungs. She gasps, breathing in fumes and choking on the poison when his eyes meet hers. Paz Socorro has his eyes, his curls in darker little ringlets. She cries, sobbing just like Kiri. She tried to get home, she tried not to leave him. She didn’t mean to start the pattern. She was only 23, she’d never done this before. Her plane burns and all she can taste are ashes but she feels her strength in her bones, trembling as they are, and she marches home like she doesn’t remember what fire tastes like.
The answers never come plain and sometimes Kiri doesn’t think she’s one person. She thinks she’s a collection. All the souls lost on pandora, gathered and loved with her ancestors or buried beneath the dirt she walks over. She tries though, again and again and again because the heartbeat thunders so loud that she swears it’s thousands of them, begging her to find them. She loves them as much as she hates them. She clings to her mother, the large and the small, and speaks with the only voice that doesn’t shake. Thinking about Kiri who calls it a blessing because a curse is ungrateful and she can’t call them something so cruel. She was never a little girl in the same way there’s always one reaching for her hand in the quiet seconds between minutes. Thinking about how Kiri can never just be Kiri but the way it’s integral to her that she can’t ever just be the one girl she was born as. How she’s not even sure which one that is.
The boys are barely hitting teenagers when Jake stumbles on Neteyam teaching Spider to shoot his bow. About seeing the little human he watched grow up mirror him 13 years ago, holding a weapon double his size and not knowing how to handle it, but this time the boy is comfortable. He’s grinning, cocky and safe, with his son’s hands over his own. He sees his wife for a moment in his son’s soothing touches and then his brother in Spiders grin. It’s healing in the same way that a part of him curls and aches at the sight.
He watches for a while, a silent guard if they get in over their heads. Neteyam is normally level-headed and responsible but Spider is a wild card - plus he rarely sees the two by themselves.
He lurches to intervene when Spider pulls a gun from the bushes, tossing it to his oldest with a teasing prod. It’s big for a human but looks barely larger than a pistol in his son’s childish hands. Neteyam looks nervous but shrugs as Spider lifts his hands to position them better. It takes a few tries to find something comfortable for the taller - it’s one of Norms weapons, not meant for Na’vi, those are locked up safe in home tree - but they settle it in his hands and Jake forces himself to relax. It makes him nervous but he tries to give them a shot. Why, he can’t really decide, but he sits back. If they’ll survive, then they’ll need to adapt. Every solider packs a few scars and he’d rather they do it now when he’s within arms reach.
Spider runs his fingers over the gun and points out where the safety is, how to load it, and then how to trigger it. He doesn’t want to know why he knows all this but suspects his own raids might have been the boys teacher. Neteyam takes a shuttering breath and shoots the gun at the largest tree in their little clearing. The kickback nearly makes him drop the gun and he stumbles back but he grins and laughs like a boy again.
He didn’t realize how long it’s been since he heard that sound.
Spider joins him soon after, clumsily notching an arrow and attempting to hit the same spot. He misses by a long shot and groans dramatically but there’s a camaraderie in the air that he remembers from his own youth. It’s a signature of growing up and something he only really remembers from Tommy. He smiles and watches for a bit as Neteyam tries to fix Spiders posture then tries to one up him with another shot. They’re sparing with the gun, clearly worried about getting caught despite the bravado, but the sound is swallowed by the forest enough to allow a few trysts.
It’s been a good half hour when Spider manages to knock a branch off the tree he’d been aiming at. The boys cheer with such pride that Jake can’t help but feel a little proud. He guesses they really are growing up.
“Okay, okay, hear me out - your dad can’t be pissed if we bring home dinner right? Why don’t we, yknow, try these out for real?”
Jake swallows back a groan and steps out from his hiding spot, perhaps they aren’t that grown up after all.
Sick Headcanons - Rocorro
not sure how much i love this one but 🤪
Spider is a provider type and it shows when his partner is sick or otherwise out of commission
He will spend as much time as he can (mostly when Rotxo is asleep) hunting and gathering so he can feed/provide for him and, later, their kids
He is also the one that will be weaving and trading for new blankets, clothes, baskets, etc - how much it helps is questionable but he is a king of comfort and wants to make sure that Rotxo won't worry for anything since he's a huge stresser
He will take the kids for the day once they reach that part of their lives and huddle them into his pod so Rotxo has some peace, he's a hoverer but gets self conscious about it
Despite Rotxo being a major cuddler and Spider having very little strength against his partners puppy dog eyes, he normally won't stop jumping around trying to 'help' until Rotxo pulls him down and makes him just lay down with him
Spider is a very independent person which follows in how he is when he is sick, Rotxo is not...which also follows into him being sick. Given he's fucking huge, he normally gets his way if he tries to octopus arm him
Spider is an act of service type but is normally put on less physical tasks in the village due to the species difference. Given Rotxo is the same way and gets to fill that role more often. Spider uses sick days to show off a bit lmao.
Rotxo is a big baby when he's sick tho so he loves the attention and thrives on having an excuse to be a baby about whatever he wants
The only downside is he WILL get someone else sick without a doubt
When he is injured, however, he gets angsty and protective - he feels way too reminded of his own vulnerabilities and mortality which only makes his seeing his mate and childrens that much worse
Spider will be the type constantly watching the door and trying to lock down the marui or pod subconsciously - given how little he grew up with, he's very protective of his space and people
Rotxo struggles with this a bit more when he is injured since he doesn't like being confined and it makes him feel weak and disrespected if he isn't allowed to protect them - babying is only fun on the rare occasions the na'vi gets sick
Spider is the type though who wants to hunker down when he's hurt but will try to suppress it. He's prone to pushing himself too far when he's badly hurt since he's bruised up or sore a lot of the time
When he's sick, he's the type to ignore it and work through it, even though it's 10x worse for him to keep pushing when his body isn't made for the environment
He's also an isolator since he has value issues in not wanting to be a hinderance
Rotxo spends a lot of time forcefully babying him when he is sick which is more than they care to admit since homie has no concept of what his limits are (or he just refuses to admit them)
Protective
The woods of their coast is unfamiliar territory even with his life spent on these beaches. Twigs and prickly grasses nip at this feet and crack beneath him but he knows avoiding them is a lost cause.
Rotxo is made for this island, is and always has been, but he can't help but feel displaced only a mile or two from his marui.
The RDA don't expect them here, though, only in the water. Ao'nung and Neteyam make excellent decoys back at the cove. While they provide a distraction in the water, an easy, unsuspecting target, Lo'ak, he, and Spider bring their numbers through the woods surrounding it. Soon, they will line the cliffs edge and, hopefully, interrupt an expected attack.
Lo'ak found scouts in hiding out in the caves lining the cliffs three days ago. The systems stretch through the cove and provide easy cover, just far enough from home to provide a sense of safety but so close that the intel they gather could prove dangerous. The potential heirs of two clans will be far too titillating to avoid, as such, it should be easy.
Should be.
Rotxo glances to the trees above him, not seeing him but knowing his mate is near.
This is a simple mission. Tonowari and the older warriors are dotted amongst them in case something goes wrong but they're here to prove themselves. To gain experience.
And not get shot.
Rotxo really doesn't want to get shot.
He hears a purring chirp and ducks, alert and stiff in his bones. Unlike the Sully kids, he didn't grow up in war. He wasn't raised with bullets in his ears and fear is gripping him with icy hands.
There's no time to be scared though, Neteyam is warning them.
He ducks into the underbrush, scarcer that the tree people were used to but thick enough they taught him how to hide. The coastal trees are thin and so only the best climbers could take from above. Spider, of course, is with them. He mumbles a prayer to their mother and starts for the cliff face.
Ao'nung lets out a loud, barking laugh and he can hear the strain. his friend has never been the best actor and he's scared. A branch snaps next to him and he jerks up, Tsireya is kneeling half sprawled from a bush. She looks embarrassed and offers him a sheepish smile before Lo'ak is corralling her up and hidden again.
It makes him want to laugh, how clumsy she is, how clumsy she's always been -
A gun shot rings loud and clear through the forest and suddenly movement is all around him. Birds are taking off into the sky and his friends, his family, are rushing through the woods without fear.
Ewya, how are they not afraid?
He chokes but he grips his spear. It's time to be brave, they could hurt his Moms, his sisters, and everyone he cares about. They have to go and he has to do it. He can do it.
Ewya must have her arms around him because his legs are strong as he rushes forward, the branches and undergrowth whip past him but he doesn't feel it. The metkayina boy whoops and then there's a gun aimed at him.
The human is small, terrified, and looks so much frailer than Spider. Perhaps he would have hesitated before, but he saw Neteyam after 3 Brothers Rock. Before the thoughts can settle in his mind, he's throwing his spear and the man goes down with the hit.
His weapon stands taller than the full body of his kill. It's not the first life he has taken, but it is the first he won't pray over or thank. He rips his weapon from the corpse and lets it fall with a dull thud, taking the gun and cracking it against a tree. It's too small for his hands and he won't risk another enemy finding such a prize.
More gunshots ricochet behind him and he rushes forward, finding himself beside Tsireya at the cliffs edge. He scans her body, quick as he can, and finds her okay. She nods and then she's leaping into the water below.
He spares a glance, unsure why she would give up her high ground, and feels the blood drain from his face.
There must be a dozen men on the ground and Tsireya marks the 4th person he can see of his own. Another shot and screaming is sounding from behind him, if there's that many there, who is up here?
The estimation they had only predicted a half a dozen men, maybe a few spares but maybe a few less. He's never trusting Lo'ak to count again.
He turns, planning to jump, but then he's hitting the ground. Above him, the butt of a gun is slamming down. It hits his temple and his vision slurs around him. He swings his arm, heartbeat pounding in his throat, and tries to dislodge the marine across his lap. He lands a hit and feels the weight tip but then the gun is coming down again.
A bruise begins to bloom across his cheek as he fights, blue skin torn and bloody from the branches beneath him and the man currently using his rifle like a bat. He wobbles up, trying to sit up and gain back the favor his height offers.
The man is wide eyed and frantic but the enjoyment in his eyes is what makes Rotxo pause. There is blood on the mans pale skin, bruising and mud across his face, and more dogtags than should be his own across his neck. Still, he smiles, bloody lips and all, and raises his gun.
Raises his gun at him, oh fuck -
A blonde blur snarls and the man goes down with a choked off shout. The gun is lost from his hands and then he hears a shot and Rotxo surges forward. Panic is lacing through him but dies in his throat at the sight of his mate, gun in hand, and standing overtop the body of his attacker.
Blood and mud are caked across his knees and over his torso. Rotxo's own stripes are covered on the blondes skin by the mess but he's there and in one piece. Relief floods his system and he stumbles up, finding himself in the humans arms before he can make it the rest of the way up.
"Fuck, fuck! Spider, a-are you okay? I-Thank you, I.." The words are failing him. He doesn't know what to say in this, thank you for killing a man for me? Thank you for being okay? Are you okay? You're not shot but please don't die of internal injuries when we get home?
"Hey, hey, hey, Ro, I need you to look at me, okay? It's okay, Baby, we're both okay. You can't go now, gotta get home first." His mask is smeared and dirty but he manages to meet Spider's eyes through it. Rotxo barely can speak and the blonde is pulling him between a tree and the large lake rocks that dot the hill. Later, he'll mourn how calm he is. How the blood on his mask and the bruises on his skin are so okay, but for now, he just focuses on finding home behind the glass.
Leaning forward, he presses his forehead to the cool glass and cups his hand to the back of the others head. Spider huffs on a laugh. The sound is small and affectionate but laced with fear but Rotxo decides they'll spare a moment.
Just a moment.
He breathes in the wood, the salt of the sea, and the scent of pinewood that clings stubbornly to Spider's tan skin. He counts the moles on his shoulders and tries to skim over the scars he'll memorize later.
"I-I'm okay. 'm okay. Where are your brothers?" Spider takes a long breath and he gets a glimpse of the boy he's buried, the child he left back with his peoples home tree. "in the water, I-I think. We need to get down there."
He starts to pull away and Rotxo starts to stand. Just as he leaves the cover of their hiding place, he catches sight of dark blue skin. Comprehension takes a moment to set in before he realizes that the blue isn't one of his friends, that they're in the water or safe at home, and that they most certainly don't wear a military uniform.
"Sure you do, Kid. Only place your goin' is back to your Daddy." Spider looks at him and there's fear on his face, real, deep fear. He remembers holding the human in the weeks after his escape, waking him from the nightmares following for the past 3 years, and the scars that mar his back. Spider squawks and reaches back but the recombinant has a firm grip on the blondes hair.
Spider is kicking, fighting, but the man isn't letting go. He's tall, cocky in the way he stands, and appears unphased at the teenaged warrior he's choosing to ignore. Wainfleet is embroidered on a tag across his chest and the name is familiar. The mans hand moves, Spider surging forward for freedom, and then its around the boys neck. It's just to hold him in place but the mans hands are so big they wrap around nearly completely. Spider chokes, ducking his head, and tries to fight but his grip only tightens.
"He's been real patient with you, Kiddo, but you know he's not a patient man. C'mon, time to get you home. If you stop your kickin', maybe I'll even let you stay awake this time." The man looks away from Spider, looks to Rotxo, and reaches for his gun. This one is big, big enough for a na'vi, and fits in his hand like an extension of himself. He aims it straight to Rotxo and his finger goes to the trigger.
Except, Rotxo isn't afraid. He expects the white-hot panic to flood him again, to feel his limbs heavy and lagging behind with the will to run away, but instead all he feels is rage. Red hot, protective, rage.
Spider looks small in the mans hold and looks so, so afraid. Rotxo reaches down and grips his spear. Wainfleet pulls the trigger but Rotxo is faster, aimed low and charging for his hips. While he may not look small now, he was the smallest in their youth. He knows how to take down a bigger opponent.
He surges and tackles the mans waist. This one is trained far better than his previous kill and doesn't go down just yet, but his grip on Spider does loosen. He snarls, low and instinctual, and feels every bit the animal the RDA calls them. It feels strong.
With a knock of his spear, the gun is knocked askew from where it was aimed. He takes the moment where Wainfleet struggles with the surprise to take a sweep for his head. The instinct to block has the gun falling from his hand and then, with a strong kick from Spider, his mate hits the forest floor.
With his lover out the way, Rotxo throws himself at the larger man. He's taller, but Rotxo is stronger. "You don't get him. Not again."
The solider laughs, loud and wild, "Fuck, Miles, you really do take after Sully. Got yourself a feral little toy and all, huh?"
The gun is cast aside now but Wainfleet reaches down, pulling a knife from a holster on his hip, and cuts across Rotxo's shoulder. His aim is strong and lands true, cutting deep across his collarbone. He gasps, pain flaring across his chest, but swings down his arms anyway. He lands a hard punch to the mans face, then another, and reels back again only for his wrist to be caught. He pulls, trying to free himself, and catches a glimpse of Spider, red faced and wheezing. His hands are shaking frantically as he checks his mask and the adrenaline comes rushing back.
Wainfleet lands a good hit to his face again, then aims to stab his shoulder where he cut before, but Rotxo pulls from his grip and pulls him up by the shoulders. He lifts the recombinant and slams him down. He can't get Quaritch for what he's done, but he certainly can give Wainfleet a taste here.
Blood pools in the mans mouth and he chokes, shoving frantically and thrashing against his hold similar to how Spider did moments ago. The mirror makes bitterness flush through him and he lifts him again, slamming harder now and relishing in the dull thud of the mans skull on the rocks below.
A gun cocks off to the side and his gaze flies to his mate, now on his feet and scrambling to the bushes they hid in before. He grabs the spear he's now left discarded at his side and throws it with practiced aim. It's lower than needed to be but the soldier falls with a spear through his gut. It'll be a painful death but Rotxo can't find himself to care.
"You don't get to hurt him." He growls and reaches for the gun before he hesitates. The man is groaning beneath him, incoherent and bloody, and Rotxo decides he chose his grave. He stands, legs shaking and tired, and pulls the man up. A birds cry fills the air and he hunches, an arrow flying past his curls, and he feels strong. His mate is safe, his family is fighting beside him, and he proved himself today. He feels strong when he lifts the man beneath him, pulling his weight onto himself, and walks to the edge. With a long breath, he drops the bloodied man over the edge and into the water below.
He stand, still and tired, but satisfied. The man hits the water below and he notices the movements in the woods have gone. It's calm, undisturbed as if nothing happened here at all.
He breathes in the salty air, tanged with blood, and lets his shoulders drop. A muted sort of pride lays in his chest knowing he defended his home but there's sadness there that knows he just kissed what was left of his peaceful life goodbye. War has met them here and it's clear his time is up.
"Rotxo? We did it...They're gone, only a few are injured. But..." A pause, "Well, we lost two. Menang and Eleora are with the mother but, it-it's time to go home." A soft hand grabs his elbow and he jerks back to reality.
Tsireya is gentle, safe, and he leans down to kiss her forehead. He turns and Spider is there, red faced and looking stricken, no doubt somewhere else. But he's safe, wrapped against his brother's side.
He walks forward, checking his lover for injuries, and nods to Lo'ak who lets him take his brothers weight while his own lover slips back to his arms.
"C'mon, lets go home."
I saw a post discussing Spiders hair earlier and I can’t get it out of my mind. For anyone who doesn’t know, I study theater design and I can’t get over how good of a design choice it would have been to have Spiders head shaved by the RDA.
Spiders dreads are a combatted topic 24/7, but think of it from a narrative stand point. He has dreads to resemble Jake, his hero and desired father figure, but his dreads are choppy and awkward. Jake’s are maintained and well cared for with a regular length and size in comparison to Spiders which are a multitude of lengths, more matted than styled, and just overall poorly done. However, Spider clings to them thinking it makes him more like the na’vi and pass him better as one of the people. He thinks it claims him to a family.
His hair is something of his identity but also a self-proclaimed attachment to Jake that more accurately shows how separate he is from them - his hair is uncared for and shows he’s a child without anyone to help him with it. It moreso shows him as the “stray” he’s fighting not to be.
With that emotional connection in mind, consider the RDA shaving his head. They’re all forced submission and conformity, thinking he looks too savage and too wild by having dreaded hair or stripes on his skin. They shave it and leave it choppy and uneven. It’s embarrassing and a humiliation tactic where he’s left feeling stripped of part of his identity and forced closer to humanity while also having it poorly done as a reminder that no one cared for him enough to do it well.
Consider Quaritch stepping in, all bravado and false fatherly love, sitting him down on their first night out and gently shaving his hair down. Imagine him shaving it into the same crop he wore in his life until it’s even and clean. It’s the first time his hair has been done and cared for properly since his early childhood when Norm still did it for him.
Except this time it’s Quaritch claiming him - bringing out the family resemblance through his hair, marking him as his own in the way Spider always begged someone would, but also marking him distinctly as human. As loved only by those he hates. Imagine the emotional manipulation of his hair being done for the first time by Quaritch after he watched Neytiri and Jake care for their own children’s his whole life.
Imagine him in the reef, blood on his hands and knowing Quaritch is alive, with no braids in his hair, no dreads, and nothing to tie him back to who he was. Kiri trying to thread her fingers into nothing, Spider shivering with nothing on his neck, and then laying there with his hair beginning to grow and again no one to braid it.
The angst it could be. Hair care can be such an intimate thing, especially in native cultures. They missed such a great opportunity to explore a visual cue of everything Spider went through without having to make it gory or too intense. But not only that, it could have shown his arc after with his hair showing where he ends - preferably braided and neat, shells and beads woven in, and him visually showing the change of course his life takes
Thinking about how Lo’ak will never hear Neteyam tell him he’s good enough in canon
Baby Spider was absolutely littered in bruises and cuts from trying to keep up with his siblings but never complained. He’s always worn the injuries like a mark of pride, like somehow they’re the stripes he doesn’t have because they come from his siblings and they don’t see him like a human, they just see their brother
Short king Spider rights, let him be 5’5” in your modern AUs I beg
Thinking about Spider sobbing into Kiri's chest because the only tsaheylu he'll ever have was forced on him. How the thing he want's so badly was made a mockery, how it'll never feel completely safe in his own mind again. Screaming about Kiri gripping him hard enough to bruise, trying to protect him from things she couldn't do.
Ngl, animalistic Na'vi go hard man
Let Spider be feral
Let him hiss and claw and fight for his siblings like a wild animal
Let his humanity be something held together by scraps - he doesn't care to be one, na'vi are kinder and stronger and better
Let him act like an angry Neytiri when he's upset
Let him crouch and hunt like his body is 8' taller
Let him bite like he has fangs to tear with
Let him be the stray na'vi trying to hard to feel like his body is home
You know those like kittens raised with dogs and shit where it's just one tiny fluffball fully convinced they're on the same level as a fucking rottweiler?? Yeah thats Spider
Thinking about the Sully kids not realizing Spider was gonna stop growing until one day he's barely above their hips
Like angst cause he's human and vulnerable and there's so many lines in the sand
but also fucking hilarious cause this tiny motherfucker will throw himself from trees to tackle his brother and will fully try to yeet a grown ass Na'vi