Annoyingasexual - Senza Titolo

the fact there is no mention of the boys he was raised with for their entire life (so close to a decade, based off of how old they look, the eldest of the two seeming around 10ish) is crazy work

and now with him knowing the RDA is going to be attacked from all sides (even if rightfully so)? that they're stuck with their father who will endanger children to get what he wants? that they're alone without his protection? that they are stuck on a planet where they may become victims of war and Na'vi rage, and he's not there to keep them safe?

he has to worry. he has to wonder where they are.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but I wanted to try my hand at sci-fi/horror and came up with the idea of Eywa having enough and blessing Spider with the ability to turn humans into living plants or trees so that their bodies will restore what was destroyed by their bombs and fire. Spider keeps his power secret so that he'll have an easier time fulfilling Eywa's will without disruption or judgment. So far, he's doing a damn good job and with each successful death, grows stronger.

Here's just a teeny piece of what I have so far.

The first body wasn’t the worst.

Jake had seen enough death to be numb to it. But the more they found, the more that numbness cracked, replaced by something he'd forgotten.

Fear.

One soldier was still standing, his posture too rigid, too unnatural. His skin had gone pale, his veins blackened with something that pulsed beneath the surface like twisting roots. Thin green tendrils had erupted from his fingertips, curling toward the sunlight as if reaching for something unseen. His mouth was open in a frozen scream, but no sound would ever escape. His eyes, once human, had been overtaken by blooming petals as if the forest itself had bloomed through him.

Another body lay sprawled nearby, its flesh cracked open. Vines coiled through its ribcage, wrapping around the exposed bone, flowers sprouting where there should have been blood. A grotesque, living sculpture.

A warning.

Neytiri covered her mouth, her ears pinned back in horror. “This is not the work of Eywa,” she whispered, voice shaking.

Okay, but here's a dark au where Spider drags Quaritch from the water and promptly kills him, and now no one knows what to do with this human child soaked in the blood of his own father. Blood is thicker than water, right? Why would a son kill his own father? Pandora's greatest enemy is dead. The scourge of the Na'vi is gone.

So, what is this feeling of discontent?

-) The moment Spider pulled Quaritch from the water, he made a choice.

-) The once-mighty colonel was barely clinging to life, his body battered, his strength drained. Weak. Helpless. A man who had terrorized Pandora, who had burned forests and spilled the blood of Eywa's children, now lay before him, gasping, vulnerable.

-) The knife in Spider’s hand felt light. The motion effortless.

-) One swift drag across the throat was all it took. Just like Neytiri would have done to him. 'Do you see me now?' Spider thinks. 'See me. See me. SEE! LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE MADE OF ME!'

-) Quaritch barely made a sound, just a wet, choked gasp as his lifeblood spilled into the water, dark ribbons mixing with the lapping waves. His body seized, his fingers twitching—but Spider only crouched there, watching, waiting. He waited for the flood of emotion. For the relief. The triumph. The guilt. But there was nothing. Just… numbness.

-) The monster was dead. The one responsible for so much suffering, for so much destruction, for everything—gone. And yet, Spider felt nothing. His father’s glassy eyes stared up at him, lifeless. Eywa’s grace had abandoned him long ago. And with any luck, Quaritch’s soul would never find peace. Never find acceptance. Spider exhaled slowly, running his tongue over dry lips, blinking at the bloodied body at his feet. His hands weren’t even shaking.

-) It was done. His brother avenged. The souls of Neytiri's family are avenged. His debt to the Sullys was paid in full. Everything is calm.

-) A soft rustling pulled his gaze upward. His father's Banshee crouched a few feet away, its golden eyes locked onto Spider with an eerie intensity. Spider tensed, half-expecting it to lunge, to attack, to avenge its fallen rider. But it didn’t. It simply watched. And then, without a sound, it lowered its head. Acceptance. Recognition.

-) As if possessed by something beyond himself, Spider stepped forward, his hand outstretched. His fingertips brushed against the creature’s snout, and for the first time that horrible day, he allowed himself a small, hollow smile. Perhaps it was a good thing that Quaritch never truly bonded to this one.

-) The rest of the Na'vi find him hours later, and Tonowari approaches first, his large shadow stretching over the scene, but he hesitates. The Metkayina chief has seen many battles, many bodies. And yet, this is different. This is a child, soaked in the blood of his own father. Why would a son do this? Spider meets his gaze, his expression empty. He waits for judgment. Condemnation. Something.

-) But when Tonowari speaks, it is not with anger. "The demon is dead." A statement. A fact. The warriors behind him exchange uneasy glances, but none argue. Some murmur in agreement; others simply watch. None move to comfort the boy who did the deed. Perhaps they do not know how.

-) The Sully are more horrified than relieved. Even Neytiri, who should feel the greatest relief of all, does not celebrate. Her bow hand clenches, fingers twitching as though her body is caught between two instincts. To praise him… or to fear him. She does not understand. She had thought she knew hatred. She had felt it burn through her when she held the blade to Spider’s throat on the Sea Dragon, her grief drowning out reason.

-) Jake had told her stories—of how humans could be cruel to their own offspring, how some children were beaten, abandoned, even killed by those who were meant to love them. How those same children woke up one day and decided to kill their parents. She had never believed it. Not until now. She watched Spider wipe the blood from his blade with mechanical precision, his movements too calm, too practiced. There is no triumph in his face, no relief, no sorrow.

Just a hollow emptiness.

-) Something dark and quiet has settled in the boy’s chest, a coldness that should not exist in one so young. The boy named Spider died on the Sea Dragon. Drowned beneath the weight of Neytiri’s hate, choked on the understanding that he would never belong. And what remains in his place is something else. Something Tonowari's people and the Sullys do not understand. Something they accept but fear all the same.

-) Jake takes a step forward, but Spider lifts a bloodied hand, stopping him before he can speak. "Don’t." His voice is hoarse, flat. "Your son has been avenged. The debt is paid. I am done. We are done." Jake stares, tears in his eyes, something unspoken hanging between them. "Kid, I never wanted this--" Spider turns his back, mounting the ikran with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. And then he was gone. The wind howled as the graceful creature lifted itself into the sky, carrying Spider higher, farther, into the unknown. Jake’s voice rose behind him, calling his name. Kiri's voice is the loudest, crying and screaming for him, but he hardens his heart. They call his name. Spider does not return. Spider does not look back.

I wrote about this in one of my fics but i’m obsessed with the idea that Tony uses technology to predict where the stars are, and wears sunglasses that illuminates the stars so that he can stargaze despite the light pollution in NYC.

and that Tony finds out Peter’s vision was enhanced from the bite, such that he can easily see the stars through the light pollution.

And the two of them stargaze together on the roof of avengers tower

oh yes it's that time of year again

How it feels to read a really good fic and find the author has dozens more like it 

I have some thoughts about an au where Neytiri decides to adopt Spider, but with a twist. Neytiri starts off with a cold, calculated plan to mold Spider into her weapon against the demon who destroyed her family, only to genuinely bond with Spider over time and see him as her own.

-) From the moment Neytiri laid eyes on the squirming, pink-skinned demon, she felt the fire of hatred coil around her heart. He has his father’s face. The same features, the same blood in his veins—Quaritch’s legacy, staring back at her with wide, unknowing eyes and a gummy smile. Instinct screamed at her to cast him away, to have him banished to her mate's former planet, to spare her home from the cruelty of yet another sky demon. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

-) Instead, Neytiri shoved her hatred into the deepest, coldest part of herself and made a choice. She would raise him. Not out of kindness. Not out of pity. Certainly not out of any foolish maternal instinct. No, she would raise him as a weapon. An instrument of vengeance.

-) Quaritch had stolen everything from her—her father, her sister, her brother, her home, countless lives of her people. And now, she would take everything from him. She would mold his son into something unrecognizable, shape him into the very antithesis of the man who sired him. Spider would walk like the Na’vi, speak their tongue, fight with their weapons, and live by their beliefs. He would forsake the demon blood in his veins until nothing of Quaritch remained. And when the time came, she would watch the fear dawn in the demon's eyes as his own flesh and blood struck him down.

-) There are times when Jake watches her with wary eyes when she helps Spider take his first steps, when she shushes his pitiful bleatings, and when she cradles him in her arms and holds his little hand in hers. There is an unease in Jake’s stare, as if he sees the shape of her plan but does not know how to stop it—or perhaps, deep down, does not want to. It does not matter.

-) Neytiri is resolute. She has a path, and she will walk it to the end. She will strip away every trace of Quaritch’s legacy, reshape him, teach him to hate the sky people, to despise the blood in his veins. He will not be human. He will not be Omatikaya. He will be a blade—her blade. He will be hers. And one day, when the time is right, he will drive that blade into his father’s heart.

-) But like all well-laid plans, this one did not go as intended.

-) Neytiri had expected wariness. She had expected grudging respect, perhaps even a smidgen of pride that he was picking up her lessons with eagerness. What she had not expected was love. Spider is eager, desperate to prove himself. As he grows, he stumbles, falls, bleeds—but always gets back up. He grins at her when she corrects his stance, laughs when she gently tugs at his hair in reprimand, glows under her approval.

-) It should not matter. He is a means to an end. And yet, somewhere along the way, the pretending stops. She began to see him. To feel warmth towards him.

-) Not the reluctant duty of a mentor or the cold satisfaction of a hunter circling its prey, but the aching, unbidden love of a mother.

-) Somewhere between teaching him to string a bow and scolding him for climbing too high, between pressing healing paste to his scraped knees and watching him giggle as Lo’ak and Neyteyam drag him into trouble with Kiri chasing after them and Tuk toddling along, something in her heart shifts. She no longer sees Quaritch in his face and instead sees Miles—a boy as unpredictable and beautiful as the forest, as fierce as any warrior, as stubborn as herself. A child who saw her as a mother.

-) And when the day finally came that she looked at him and realized she could not bear to lose him, Neytiri understood the cruelest twist of fate:

In trying to make him her weapon, she had made him her son.

Oh mother is SO back 🔥