HELPOMEMEE

http://tegaki.pipa.jp/439153/index_0.html

cute small chicks hanging out with gentle big faceless dudes with romantic undertones is a hell of an aesthetic

USDFDHEFHDG THIS GOT ME GIGGLINF AND EVERYTHING i loveeeddd it <33

𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘)

— language, just two flustered dorks & a ton of fluff, sort of love at first sight (?), friends to lovers, brief fake relationship, eventual jealous!neteyam, kissing, heavy angst & character death.

just this once. you were supposed to help tsireya out just this once. but how are you supposed to help out your best friend when it involves distracting one of the most sought-after warriors from their clan? how are you supposed to distract him for a single day without catching feelings for him? you find yourself in a position where you realize it's impossible for you to meet neteyam "just this once".

a/n: this is just a prologue to the actual story, so i don't expect it to do well lol (please don't let the general fluff deceive you, this story doesn't have a happy ending !!)

"hellooo, earth to na’vi?" tsireya called, waving her hand in front of your distracted gaze.

it was early in the morning when she managed to find you tending to the ilus by the reef, her unannounced visit catching you off guard. you only sighed at her words as you turned to face her.

"you should stop spending so much time with that forest boy, you're starting to sound like him." you muse, prompting a soft laugh from your best friend.

the moment you got up and started your descent back into the village, tsireya trailed closely behind. you narrowed your eyes as she followed you silently. she was up to something.

"what is it?" you sighed. despite your attention focused on what was in front of you, you could sense her growing smile from behind.

"about that forest boy.." she grinned, already sensing your intrigue.

"i’m listening." you hummed, exchanging quick greetings with the passerby clan members.

"i need you to distract his brother." she whispered, her words only making you quirk a brow.

it had been two weeks since the sullys first arrived. like tsireya, you were happy to welcome them into the clan. the only difference, however, was that you had no time to be around them.

as awa'atlu's hidden jewel, you had spent an ample amount of your time practicing your dance choreography for the clan's future celebrations instead.

today's duties would be no different.

"you know i'm far too busy with rehearsals to waste time with some boy." you sighed, noticing her disappointed frown.

"it’s not like you have a choice! my father requested you teach them the history of our upcoming dance festival." she pouted.

in all honesty, you weren't surprised—coming from a family whose legacy is known for passing down the title of being the clan’s sole principal dancer, you would be the most suitable for the task.

"so you're trying to sneak off with your crush while i’m at work?" you jokingly scoffed.

"and what if i am?" she grinned.

"you’ve become shameless, tsireya." you laughed, nudging your elbow into hers.

"come on, do it for me! you’ve already been ordered to meet with them today." she insisted, tugging at your arm. you only stared into her doe eyes as she silently waited for you to give in—which of course, worked.

"if it's my duty, i suppose i don't have a choice. but you owe me for this." you sighed before shortly erupting in giggles as she pulled you by the hand to the sully’s pod.

—

making your way over, tsireya was first to knock. the sound of her sudden presence only caused lo’ak to stumble over his brother's wooden carving. peeking your head in, the two of you couldn't help but laugh as you witnessed neteyam scowl at his brother.

"tsireya! and.. tsireya’s friend? what’s up?" lo’ak greeted as his brother only turned his head at the mention of another face.

"lo’ak, this is my closest friend—the one who'll be joining us today at the reef." you silently waved as tsireya introduced your name.

"nice to meet you." he hummed, pausing for a brief moment. there was a sudden hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"you.. haven't heard anything about me from the others, have you? you can't trust a single thing ao'nung says." he jokes nervously.

"oh, trust me, i’ve already heard a lot of things about you from tsire—mmph!" your words were cut off the moment tsireya palmed her hand over your mouth, hissing.

fortunately, your banter was cut short the moment his elder brother made his way over to the three of you. slowly releasing her hand from your face, tsireya cleared her throat.

"ah—this is neteyam." she coughed. a few moments passed in silence before she noticed how you froze up.

“introduce yourself.” she whispered, nudging your arm with her elbow to speak. your back naturally straightened in response as heat rose to your cheeks.

“i’m—uh, nice to.. meet you?” you stuttered. shit. it was your first time meeting him and you’ve already embarrassed yourself, you mentally cursed.

“hey nice to meet you, i’m neteyam.” he silently mused.

nobody laughed but him.

neteyam only mouthed a small 'what?' as everyone stared at him for a few moments. you, however, couldn't hold back a chuckle.

it wasn't the joke itself that was funny—no, the joke was absolutely terrible. instead, it was the confused expression on his face, as if he hadn't just dropped the worst joke imaginable.

“bro, are you trying to win worldwide fame for unfunny jokes?” lo’ak sighed.

“i thought it was pretty funny.” he shrugged, his eyes silently searching for your reaction.

“yeah, funny.” you scoffed, meeting his gaze for a stilled moment.

his expression was serious, but you noticed the way it slightly softened when he looked at you. as if the way he looked at you just felt different from the way he looked at everyone else.

you can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something that makes you think you might just get along with him.

tsireya only grinned as the two of you unknowingly locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"well, if you don't want the day to pass us, i suggest the two of you join at us at the reef!" tsireya waved, grabbing lo’ak’s hand. as you watched their figures retreat, neteyam’s tail tapped your leg.

“shall we?” he hummed, slightly bowing down like a prince as he took a few steps before you.

“why of course, my liege.” you mocked whilst doing a slight curtsy. you couldn’t help but reciprocate his coy smile as you followed him to the edge of the docks.

you were the first of the four to dive into the water, submerging your entire body until your hair was completely soaked. you watched as neteyam stood over you from the dock while lo’ak and tsireya jumped in.

“you do swim, do you not?” you smiled, looking up at him from below. for a few moments, he didn't respond. you frowned at the fact that you couldn't read his expression.

what are you thinking? is what you wanted to ask him, but the two of you had just met, and you didn't think it would be appropriate to pry, no matter how curious you were.

what neteyam couldn't tell you, however, was that he couldn't get into the water because he was too focused on you.

what were the chances of the sun's horizon hitting your face the exact moment you were before him? the orange rays shined brightly onto your features.

golden hour looked beautiful on you.

"…what a ridiculous question." he scoffed, dismissing his thoughts. you only smiled as droplets of water splashed onto you the moment he dived in.

"you finally joined us." tsireya laughed, swimming further out with lo’ak on their ilus.

following their lead, you called for your ilu, diving underwater to grab onto the saddle and resurfacing shortly after. the moment you returned to neteyam’s side, he couldn't help but watch as your ilu nuzzled it's face against his.

"mine’s got quite the charm." he hummed, though you only snorted at his smug remark.

"what?" he questioned, eyeing your unimpressed reaction.

"these ilus are mated, neteyam." you laughed, watching as he mouthed a silent 'oh'. you were quick to swim further ahead, calling out to him as you turned back.

"come on, forest boy. we have places to explore!" you smiled, turning around to follow after tsireya and lo’ak. neteyam only shook his head, scoffing a laugh before following shortly behind.

—

a few minutes into the journey, you suddenly paused, sitting still atop your ilu for a brief moment. your eyes focused on the horizon as you basked in the warmth of the sun on your face.

"what’s wrong, tired already?" neteyam teased, making his way to your side.

"don’t get funny with me." you scoffed, playfully pushing him off his ilu with your leg. you erupted in laughter as you watched him slowly rise back up to the surface, glaring.

"very funny, now help me back up." he sighed.

you hummed and offered your hand as you waited for him to settle back atop his ilu, though your smile only faded as his next action caught you off guard.

the moment he grabbed onto your hand, he pulled you down with him. you could only yelp as you already felt yourself falling in. rising back up to the surface, you gasped for air, turning to face neteyam’s satisfied expression.

"you’re a pain." you scoff, running your fingers through your hair and out of your face as neteyam stole a glance while you weren't looking.

once again, neteyam watched as the orange hues clashed with your teal skin—sunkissed and glowing with shades of gold displayed naturally onto you.

he figured if anyone was the embodiment of the sun's beauty, it'd be you.

you eventually met back up with tsireya and lo’ak, spending the following hours swimming through the ocean till sunset. the four of you conversed on your ilus, floating still above the deep ocean. along the way, you taught the two brothers about the tradition of awa'atlu's celebrations.

"the clan continues to hold the festival annually to mark another year of living among the reefs. it’s a symbol of the clan's life and our peace." you remarked.

"…and you dance for such a grand occasion?" lo’ak awed.

"mhm, so does ao'nung. our festival is to take place in the following weeks, your family arrived just in time." you hummed.

as the sun began to set, your conversation had gradually come to an end. you began to wonder when exactly tsireya would need your 'help', though your question was shortly answered.

"you know, i was actually hoping to assist a certain someone with their diving skills before the day ends." tsireya coughed, narrowing her eyes at lo’ak. anyone could see how smitten he was with her by the way his tail instantly swayed at her words.

"alright, let's get on with it then." neteyam hummed.

shit.

in that moment, you realized exactly what you needed to do, mentally cursing neteyam for being so blissfully ignorant. and if it wasn't clear enough already, tsireya’s glare spoke for itself. as she tilted her head at you, the question 'what are you waiting for?' was written all over her face.

"ah, wait—actually, neteyam!" you called, your words causing him to turn back.

"i was wondering if you could accompany me—back to the.. beach." you blurted, his questioned expression only made you gulp.

"there’s a certain spot that me and tsireya like to visit, it's beautiful past dusk."

"i’ll.. i’ll be busy, for the next few days—so today may be the only time in which i’ll get to show it to you." you reasoned.

as neteyam turned back to tsireya and lo’ak for their thoughts, he was met with his brother glaring at him to agree and tsireya smiling happily.

"it’s a very lovely place, neteyam. i’ll make sure to bring lo'ak there as well." she exclaimed.

"then.. if you're happy to have me, i’d like to come along." he smiled, waiting for your directions. you sighed at his words, feeling a giant weight lift off your chest as tsireya made her way to your side.

"well, i’ll meet back with you before eclipse! have fun." she smiled. you only sighed as she mouthed a quick 'thank you' before swimming off with lo’ak. you turned back to face neteyam, huffing quietly as you realized you wouldn't be returning home anytime soon.

—

the orange skies of pandora were slowly replaced with purple as the sun began to set. the two of you walked down the path that was dimly lit by torches as younger children ran past you giggling. a few were quick to run into your arms, calling out your name as they laughed.

"what are you all doing out this late? your mother is probably looking for you, hurry back!" you smiled, ruffling their hair.

"please show us your dancing again!" the youngest begged, tugging at your sash. the others eagerly nodded as they stood in front of your crouched figure.

"how about i let you all come by and watch me rehearse tomorrow morning instead?" you smiled, handing them a small seashell that you'd previously collected from the ocean.

despite your wager, the kids persisted, begging to stay. neteyam did nothing but watch in silence as you spoke to them. he couldn't help but smile, feeling feel his heart tighten at the sight of seeing qualities of his youngest sister in them.

soon after, the eldest child, perhaps around six or seven, showed up and saw you and neteyam with their siblings. their ears turned down in embarrassment as they completely misunderstood the situation.

"you guys! can’t you see they're on a date? come on, let's head home!" the eldest scolded, muttering apologies to both you and neteyam while you stood up.

"what? wait, we aren't—"

your words were cut short as neteyam took your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours. his hands were huge, his fingers were slender, and his touch was warm compared to your own.

"that’s right, you should all head home before your parents get worried." neteyam smiled, watching them all apologize before quickly running back home to their pod. you only narrowed your eyes at him the moment they left.

"what? they would've never left had i not gone along with it." he smiled.

the two of you carried on walking down the path, though you found yourself unable to muster up anything as you realized his hand was still holding yours.

neteyam, however, was quick to notice your silence. like the respectable son he was, he was quick to let go, apologizing.

"wait—sorry, i didn't realize—did i make you uncomfortable?" he stuttered, mumbling apologies.

"what? oh—no! no. i just.." you struggled to find the right words to say as he continued to stare down at you.

"sorry, your eyes make me shy." you weakly mumbled, covering your flustered face with your hands for a brief moment.

after what seemed like minutes, you slowly peeked through your fingers to see neteyam’s reaction as he continued to fall silent. safe to say, it was the complete opposite of what you were expecting.

"are you.. blushing?" you questioned.

"what? no." he retorted almost instantly. for some reason, seeing him in such a state brought back the casual expression you once had.

"don’t tell me.. i got the ever-stoic neteyam to blush?"

"no, it's.. the cold." he huffed, pointing out the fact that the sun had just completely fallen.

"the cold, and not what i just said?" as you watched him look away to the side, you hardly found the words to carry yourself casually.

"no."

he was blushing harder.

you took a deep breath in, eyeing back and forth between him and his hand. finally, you chose to take the latter, grabbing his hand into yours as you pulled him to the spot you and tsireya spoke of.

"wait, what are you—"

"does this answer your question?" you voiced, weakly smiling as you walked further towards the outskirts. watching your figure guide him forward, all neteyam could do was smile.

"yeah."

you let go of his hand once the two of you reached the spot. otuer than the shoreline leading to the reef, it was a secluded sandbank far from the village that was surrounded by enormous rocks. it had a view of the full moon right above the ocean in the center. neteyam only stood there in awe of the view.

"what do you think? was it worth the wait?" you smiled.

"definitely.” he sighed, walking toward the shore and stepping his feet into the water. his smile as he turned back to face you made your heart skip a beat. maybe once, twice, shit—maybe even three times.

there’s just something moon-soaked and dawn-flavored about him, something kissed by the stars and loved by the night. neteyam was a warrior who was your opposite in every way. and yet, in some ways, the two of you seemed to be the exact same.

you were only supposed to help tsireya distract him, just this once. but the damage was already done the moment your eyes met.

something began to spark.

the two of you continued to revel under the moonlight until tsireya finally returned with lo’ak. as neteyam showed his brother the view, tsireya was quick to pull you over.

"so, how was it?" she smiled.

"it wasn't as bad as i thought it'd be." you shrugged, your gaze fixed upon neteyam’s figure as his back faced you. tsireya, being the observant person she was, made note of this. there was nothing you could do that your best friend couldn't notice.

"then, i sense the two of you have gotten close?" she teased.

"don’t start, tsireya. i was just helping you for today." you sigh, your thoughts contradicting your words.

"whatever you say." she hummed.

"but just so you know.."

"you’re not very hard to read." she grinned, walking back towards the two brothers. you swore your felt your eye twitch at her words.

as tsireya pulled lo’ak over and continued to gaze up at the moon, you faced neteyam, one last time.

"i guess this is my cue to go." you hummed, watching his tail sway back and forth like a cat.

"yeah." he smiled hesitantly.

"…"

"will i.."

"will i see you again?" neteyam questioned. you paused for a brief moment, contemplating your next, careful words.

"i don't know." you responded, observing his slight frown.

"but i hope so." you whispered.

"yeah?" he smiled.

"i hope so too."

@ novarity / 6idgets — do not translate, repost, or copy my work to other sites.

ASHDHASJKDSHKFBSHDJGBHJDS THis needs to be a multipart thing cuz oh my dayysss. man if he did that to me i'd just smile and nod THANKS FOR THIS, AUTHOR!!!!!!

sliding scale

You're in need of a handyman. He has needs of his own. cw: discussion of kids/pregnancy, john price inserting himself into your life, heavily implied breeding kink, unsettling and smutless (my brand)

You win the jackpot. Okay. Not the jackpot, but you're hit by a respectable windfall. It's like a cheesy movie you'd watch around the holidays: A distant relative dies, you receive a very serious letter, and suddenly, your account isn't as sad as it once was.

So, you do the impossible. The unthinkable. You buy a house.

An old, well-loved house from an elderly couple.

The day you close, they tell you about raising their kids in the house and mention the names etched on the door frame. When you arrive home that evening, the empty house feels grand and hollow, but there they are, just where they said. Names climbing upward in uneven increments, faded with time, but legible. You trace your finger along the marks, imagining small hands and the measuring tape, the years slipping by. It makes you smile, despite yourself.

You've never wanted kids, not really, but the thought of this, people leaving bits of themselves behind—it makes you mushy. You figure, once the dust settles, you'll let rooms to friends, maybe friends of friends. Start a fun little commune of sorts, a collective of people coming and going.

The first night, you drink nonalcoholic wine straight from the bottle and lie on your mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. There's no furniture yet, just your overnight bag and the smell of fresh paint from a patch you tested on the living room wall. You fall asleep smiling. The house needs a lot of work, but you're not worried. Some TLC and elbow grease can go a long way.

Over the next few weeks, you move in and start working. Anything is possible with the power of YouTube tutorials and the local tool library.

You start in the primary bedroom and bathroom, learning to tile, install flooring, and connect plumbing for the perfect vanity and sink you found at a thrift store. It feels good to learn how things fit together and see the fruits of your labor. At night, you sleep in one of the old kid's rooms. The wallpaper is covered in rockets and planets. A couple of glow-in-the-dark stars cling to the ceiling.

The bathroom comes together wonderfully, and you feel invincible.

But then you get to the kitchen.

After an outlet zaps you, you decide you may be in over your head. That there really is a limit to what one person can do on their own. You start looking up local contractors, but everything is out of your budget. You've been doing all the work yourself for a reason. Then, after digging for ages, you find a promising lead: John Price - Handyman - Sliding Scale.

On the phone, John seems normal. Charming. Funny. He tells you he's impressed you bought a house on your own. (You've heard that a lot lately, and while it feels patronizing, you let it go. You did jump up a band upon inheriting your chunk of Great Uncle Leroy's money.) He agrees to come by and see what he can do.

You have to admit he makes a good impression when he shows up. He's punctual, polite, and looks the part. Broad chest, thick arms, big hands resting on his hips as he surveys the kitchen. After only a few minutes, he says he'll take the job. No hesitation.

You explain your tight budget and that you'll work alongside him when you're not at your day job. You show him the money you've set aside, expecting him to back out, but he just shakes his head and nudges the folder back across the table.

"Said I'd do it. Don't you fret, darl."

You vet him afterward, just to be sure. His references check out. The reviews are solid. He appears to know a little about everything. You text him to confirm, formally offering the job, and he accepts.

On the first day, you let him in and immediately have to avert your eyes. You didn't realize a toolbelt could look like that on someone. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms, and the way he moves—confident, purposeful—makes you grateful you're heading out to work. You tell him when you'll be back and leave quickly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual thinking about the hunk of man in your house.

When you return, the kitchen looks different, unfinished, but vastly improved. John's already fixed things you didn't think could be fixed. Over lunch, he even scoped out other problems around the house: a crack in the basement wall, a loose board on the stairs, and spots where the flooring must be replaced. He gushes about the house, praising its character, the way it's held up over time.

John's face grows serious, and stares down his nose when he finally asks, "You're not gonna ask me to paint over the wood or rip out the built-in hutch, are ya?"

His relief over your answer is palpable: No. That's why you bought the house in the first place. You describe what you love about it: the glass doorknobs, the dining room archway, and transom windows above the doors. He nods. He knows exactly what you mean.

Before he leaves for the day, he stops at the doorframe and points to the tallest name etched into the wood. You explain it belonged to the previous owners, a family with seven kids.

"Seven," he repeats, eyebrows raised.

"Right? Can you believe that? Seven!" You laugh. Frankly, anything more than two sounds insane. 

But John doesn't laugh. He stares at the names for a moment, his jaw tight. "Yeah. Difficult to imagine."

After he leaves, you scold yourself. You don't really know John. You've known him for all of a day. What if he came from a big family? Or what if he doesn't speak to his family anymore, if things are complicated with his parents? You feel awful, and the guilt channels itself into stress-baking.

The next morning, when he shows up, there's a platter of breakfast pasties waiting on the counter. He hesitates, looks almost bashful, until you insist. He takes a bite, then another, and looks at you with genuine astonishment. He says if you leave food like this every morning, he'll knock his rate down even further.

It makes sense, financially speaking, so you agree. You start making breakfast for two, and in return, he keeps the repairs affordable. The ritual becomes routine: John shows up every weekday morning, you eat together, he gets to work, and you leave. You look forward to seeing him. Hearing his voice rumble out good mornings and goodnights.

For two weeks, you come home to find steady progress on the kitchen. You help him out for an hour or two in the evenings, and by the time it's nearly finished, you've started discussing other parts of the house.

You mention the two smallest children's rooms aren't really usable for tenants. You show him your plans to knock down the wall between them and create a library or office space.

But this time, John doesn't agree.

"First I'm hearing of this," He leans back in his chair at your table. His arms cross over his chest, legs spreading wide. Even sitting, you see what he's doing. Trying to take a posture that carries authority, to cow you. "Tenants? What about a family?"

You try to steer the conversation back to your plans, to the picture you've sketched. "I'm not planning on having one. So, like I was saying—"

"Why buy a house this big, then? Why spend all this time fixin' it up if you're not planning to honor its legacy?"

The tone of his voice shifts completely, with no trace of the easy, flirty banter that's been your norm for weeks. His words drip with disdain. His brow knits together. Nostrils flaring. He looks genuinely upset. Mystified that you're not going to fill the house with your…your brood.

It's as if your refusal to have children is an affront to him personally. 

It sends a chill down your spine. Instantly, your image of him—this dependable, good-humored man—cracks apart. You glance past him, searching for the right words, and focus on the kitchen instead. The cabinets, the fixtures, the paint. All of it bears his mark now, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

The realization settles like a stone in your stomach. You can't keep working with him. Not if your plans for the house, your house, are going to be a problem.

You tell him as much, as gently as possible.

His anger bleeds out of him quickly, melting into embarrassment and shame. His shoulders drop, and he folds into himself in a way that seems almost impossible for someone his size. "Don't know what came over me, darl."

He packs up his tools while apologizing again, both for his outburst and for the unfinished work, and gives you the spare key you lent to him for emergencies. Before he leaves, he asks you not to write a review, not even a positive one, and you agree. Things had been good until now. You don't want to ruin him over this. People have bad days.

With the kitchen functional and nothing too big left on your plate, you cut your losses and decide to finish the work alone.

Progress is slow on your own, of course. One pair of hands, only so many hours after work to chip away at the list after work. Still, time moves faster than you expect. You push through exhaustion, head often swimming, and work late into the evenings. One night, you finish patching the floor and tackle the basement's cracked wall. Only when you get down there, it's already done. Smoothed over perfectly.

You tell yourself John must've fixed it before everything went south. But then you notice other things. Several odd jobs from your list are already complete.

Squeaky door hinges turn silent. The dings and nail holes in the walls, spackled over. The second toilet that kept running starts working correctly. It's partly a relief, like the house is taking care of itself, but also deeply unsettling. You don't remember doing it, you've never sleepwalked or slept-repair in your life, even in your overtired state, and you're still too sore over your falling out to text John and ask if he did it all.

Instead, you decide to take a break. A few days off work, a proper rest. Let the house settle, let yourself breathe. Nothing happens. No floating tools. No ghosts. It's like the house is waiting for you to look away.

Paranoia sets in. You order cameras—indoor and outdoor, enough to cover every angle.

The day they arrive, you barely make it through the door before tearing open the box. But something stops you. Your eyes catch on a strange wooden box sitting on the dining table. It's a shadowbox.

Inside the box is the slat from the front doorframe, the one with the heights and names of the seven kids who grew up here. It's been cut out, perfectly, and framed like an artifact.

Your stomach drops. You scramble to the doorframe and run your hands over it, frantic. The patchwork is seamless, so clean it's like the names never existed.

Then you notice the boots. Tucked in and lined up next to your own pairs. The extra jacket hanging on the hooks.

A shadow falls over you.

You freeze, heart in your throat, and slowly turn with eyes the size of dinner plates. Towering above you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, fists planted on his hips, is John. Grinning.

"Work alright today?" He bends down and pulls you to your feet by your wrist, wrapping you up in an embrace and welcoming you home. He sways slightly with you, like you're dancing, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks at you with a clear fondness and affection, but there's something off, like a splintering foundation. Stable until you look too close.

You try to push yourself away, palms flat against his chest, but he doesn't let go. "What are—What are you doing here? What are—Why did you do that?" You glance again toward where the measurements used to be.

He chuckles, soft and unbothered, a wistfulness threaded in his words. "Well, we're gonna need the room for our little ones, yeah? Oh, we'll have seven or more, dependin' on what takes. Sliding scale and all that."

At your stunned, horrified silence, he slots a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. He gives your cheek a little squeeze and starts steering you toward the kitchen. The one he built for you.

"C'mon. Lemme tell you all about my plans for us."

My bitch ass got whipped by Simon SO hard start doing sculpting when it’s not even at work (practically working overtime)😫

Just dumping everything in works so far 🎨

i want to see mama too⎥part two

you can read part one here and three here

→ summary: based off this request !! seven years ago, you had died alongside grace while trying to protect pandora. a few months after your death it was discovered that you were pregnant; leaving tsu'tey to raise your son vu'ran without you. but, things start to get strange when vu'ran is certain he saw you move.

pairing: tsu'tey x fem reader warnings: angst, blood, injury, nightmares, death, grief, swearing word count: 1.6k authors note: thank u so much for all the love on part one; i hope you enjoy part two !!

the rain came pouring down as you and tsu'tey danced together in the depths of the forest; your synchronised laughter echoing through the evening air as he twirled you under his arm. you danced around him as you gazed up, love glossing your yellow eyes. he brought your five fingered hand to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckle.

but, the bliss did not last.

your eyes went dark as you clutched at your chest, gasping for air. you fell to your knees as tsu'tey desperately grabbed at you; crying out your name.

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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

₊° - 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: Hiii! I was wondering if I could request a Draco x fem!reader where the reader is this super shy girl with insecurities and has a really big crush on Draco but nobody knows about it and draco has never even noticed her and Draco and reader somehow get trapped in a small like closet or classroom together and can’t get out because they dropped their wands and Draco hates it at first but they eventually settle into a really deep conversation that leaves Draco feeling a certain way about the reader by the time they are finally let out. Please and thank you!! :)

𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

His footsteps echoed against the cold tile floor as Draco Malfoy hurried through the hallways, distancing himself as far away from the Dungeons as he could. However, he needed to step up his pace if he wanted Professor Snape to lose him among the plethora of students squandering the corridors. The wooshing of his cape and the fast approach of his footsteps still sounded too close to Draco for his comfort.

“Stop at once!” Snape’s voice bellowed through the corridor, making students around him look up in fright, afraid he might have it out for one of them. Draco sprinted up the stairs, stumbling into some second years as he stopped for a split second to take in his surroundings— more students, but not enough to blend in with. His eyes scanned the hallway and then fell on one of the storage closet doors. It was ajar. Without thinking he rushed inside, trying his best to let the heavy dark wooden door fall silently shut. He breathed through his nose, trying to regain his breathing quietly, and heard students mumble and jump away as Professor Snape’s voice neared. 

Draco was close to letting out a yell of surprise when the wooden door opened and fell shut in its hinges with a loud clang, making him jump aside into the shadows of the closet as someone bumped into him. But when he looked up, he didn’t find Professor Snape staring down at him. Instead, he had to lower his eyes a couple of centimetres before they met those of a girl. 

“Bloody hell, do you-” His cuss was cut short by the hiss of the girl in front of him, staring at the door in the dark of the closet.

“Shut it-” Almost as quickly, the girl shoved his wand back down, stopping him from casting Lumos and quite possibly betraying her hiding space. The two waited, in the dark, unaware of who the other actually was. The girl’s ear was tightly pressed against the door, eager to find out if the coast was clear. Getting impatient, Draco shoved her aside, wanting to listen for himself. 

“Why-”

The girl shushed him again and softly slapped against his hand which was starting to put too much weight on the door, making it creak in protest. Somewhere in the distance, they couldhear the students disperse after the grande bell in the Clock Tower roared through the school three times. 

Draco sighed in relief, knowing Snape must have left in order to make it to his class, and so he cast Lumos to find the door handle in the dark. He clumsily and somewhat harshly shoved the girl aside once more,

“Out of my way.” Once his wand lit up the closet, he could finally see who he had been in hiding with, and his jaw slacked and his ears turned red when he realised he never meant to be so rude to the girl in front of him. 

Y/N stared back at him, eyes full of shock and terror at the realisation of who she had been sharing the cramped closet with, and she didn't even register the soft and mumbled apology that Draco muttered under his breath until she saw his lips move. Embarrassed by looking at his lips, her eyes immediately shot up to his, but the nerves and blush that coated her cheeks immediately after that made her realise how big of a mistake that decision had been.

“I- um… I… sure, of course.” She stammered, moving past him to give him the room, growing even more embarrassed as she stepped on his feet, making the sixth-year Slytherin hiss in pain. 

“I’m so sorry! Merlin, I-”

“It’s fine,” Draco mumbled quickly, but not nearly as harshly as he would have treated anyone else. 

Draco cleared his throat, masking his own nerves, and rattled the doorknob, simultaneously pushing his whole weight against the heavy door. It didn't budge, not even a millimetre. 

“What the-”

“Alohomora.” Y/N flicked her wand quickly, wanting to help the boy out and not make more of a fool of herself. Only the door didn't open after the basic spell.

Surprised, Draco looked back at her for a split second before turning back to the door to try it himself. 

“Alohomora.” Nothing. He repeated himself a couple of times, through gritted teeth, before finally shoving his wand back in his robe. 

“What did you do to it before you walked in?”

Taken back by the accusation and the annoyed furrow of Draco’s brows, the girl felt too accused to realise her initial fright, “Me? I didn’t do anything.” She rattled the doorknob once more, not liking the accusing tone the Slytherin used, “You were here before me.”

Draco sniffed in disdain and punched the door, “Is that why you came here, to lock me up with you?” The moment he said it and saw the look on Y/N’s face, he wished he hadn’t. His anger had taken over once more. It wasn’t a rare occurrence as of late. The task the Dark Lord had given him weighed heavily on him, and it was even worse that he could tell no one. He had to lie, even if he knew that Dumbledore was probably well aware of everything going on. If that all wasn’t worse enough, Snape had been breathing down his neck ever since the first day of school. He needed to do this himself, and he sure as hell didn’t need any help. 

He noticed Y/N’s silence and saw the girl with her arms crossed, in an attempt to hug herself to comfort while staring down at the tiled floor. This was his doing, his actions had caused her to shut herself out. He didn’t know the girl on a personal level, but had shared classes with her for years and had often caught himself staring at her. Never had he ever seen her this uncomfortable. He hated himself for being the reason behind it. 

“Sorry.” He said curtly, for the first time in years apologising to someone other than his father. The girl merely shrugged in reply, as a way to shake it off, but Draco could see how bad it made her feel.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“It’s fine, Draco.” She finally said, his name rolling off her tongue like silk. 

He tried to keep the most distance he could in the cramped closet, to not make her even more uncomfortable. Only he failed to realise that her silence and unease weren't because of his comments, but because of his presence. You see, in some other reality where Y/N wasn’t as shy as she was, she would have loved being trapped in a closet with the boy she’s had the biggest crush on ever since first seeing him. Perhaps she would even make use of it. But in this reality, the only thing she wanted to happen was for the floor to swallow her whole. She tried her best to hide the blush on her cheeks by focusing on the ground. She would never act on her crush on the Malfoy boy. She'd always been intimidated by him, for his status, wealth and friends created some sort of distance between him and everyone else at Hogwarts. Not to mention, Draco Malfoy made it all too clear how much he loathed Muggleborns on a day-to-day basis. She was too different from him in every way, he would never like someone like her, let alone her. She cowered away at that realisation. 

Y/N had admired the boy from afar for years, cheeks turning scarlet whenever he so much as glanced her way. She had made sure to be discreet about it, and was almost certain that the boy had no clue. Pansy and the others had though, oh they had, and they made it painfully clear as well. They made fun of her whenever she walked by. Draco never joined their jesting or laughter, probably too busy to be wanting to pay her attention anyway. But Y/N couldn’t help but pay attention to the silver haired boy each and every opportunity she got. Hence why it had become clear that he was changing. He could stare off into the distance for the duration of a whole class, he seemed to shut himself out from his friends and no longer made it his duty to pester anyone different from him. He had turned more skittish, more anxious. Unfortunately she would never find out why, nor dare to ask. For now, she would have to keep it at secret glances, even if they weren’t so secret to Draco.

Draco put a finger to his mouth when footsteps approached, and a shadow was seen to stand in the light below the creak of the door. The pair grew quiet, until the footstep disappeared again. 

Relieved, Draco turned to lean against the cold wall, staring at the girl in front of him and shamelessly taking in every detail that was available to him in this little light. The girl was beautiful, but that wasn’t something he hadn't been aware of already.  However, he had never been up close to her before, so he took his time taking her in. Another blush crept on Y/N’s cheeks when the boy shamelessly stared at her, checking her out.

He tilted his head in curiosity, “So why are you hiding here?”

Y/N swallowed, realising she wouldn’t be able to come up with a believable lie without stuttering or stumbling over her words, “I um… They were messing with me.” Draco tilted his head the other side, wanting her to elaborate, “They tried to throw a few hexes at me so I ran.” The burning of her cheeks didn't disappear when she revealed how she had run like a coward and had done so for the past six years.

“Who?” He quipped.

Y/N bit her lip, contemplating wether to come clean or not. But who was she kidding? The whole school knew of Pansy’s disdain against her.

“Pansy and her friends.”

Realising that Pansy’s friends were also Draco’s, she tried the doorknob again, “I’m sorry, I can go. No, I should go. I’ll find another spot. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

Draco listened to her rambles and the ghost of a smirk appeared on his face. He wasn’t enjoying her anxiety, no, he found it adorable how she wanted to flee from him so bad when all she had done for the past six years was probably wish for a moment like this. 

“I don’t think it will open. We’ve tried already, remember?” He teased, then saw it didn’t do anything to calm her down. “Relax- It’s fine.” He assured. 

Y/N let out a relieved breath, “Right, good. Because this is my usual spot.” She surprised herself by the joke that so effortlessly rolled of her lips, “So if anything, it should be you having to scurry away.”

Amused, Draco raised an eyebrow, and then he laughed, impressed by her quick wit. Either Y/N was growing confident, or she was still too shocked to be in a closet with him to think of anything she was saying. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, by the way.” His voice now close to a whisper, he pushed himself off the wall. Once again, he found himself needing to apologise, “Sorry if I did. I was frustrated.” He knew it was a shitty excuse, but noticed the girl’s shoulders relaxing. 

Then for a third time, he opened his mouth to apologise, “I’m sorry they’ve been treating you that way.” 

Y/N’s eyes snapped up to his, surprised at the sudden statement in which he did not back his friends, for all that she knew, for the first time ever.

“I don’t think you’re ugly, daft or boring, by the way. You’re quite the marvellous witch.”

“I thought Mudbloods can’t be witches.” The challenging reply had left her mouth before she could stop it, but she was surprised to see the crooked grin on his face, instead of an annoyed scowl like the one that he would usually sport. 

He wagged a finger and nodded his head, “Keeping me on my toes, I see. Good.” He stared at her again with that unbridled sense of confidence and pride, and Y/N found herself wanting to slap it off his perfectly sculpted Grecian face. 

“Better than all those fools who just nod at everything I say and don’t have an opinion of their own.”

“I think they want to agree with what you have to say because you can be quite intimidating, did you know?” Y/N slid down the wall and landed on a wooden crate. 

He stared at her, letting her words land in his head before following her example and sitting down. 

“Perhaps.” He pursed his lips, “That still gives you more guts than any of them. Didn’t know you had it in you.” The backhanded compliment didn't fly over her head, if anything, it made her incredibly aware of the situation again. 

She swallowed, and with a small voice, she muttered, “You don’t know me at all.”

Draco let out a big breath, one that served as a reply of its own. Too bad he didn’t have the luxury to befriend whoever he wanted. No, they had to be of status, wealthy or pureblood. Otherwise, his family’s name would be tainted and they would be shunned. He had always believed his parents when they had told him how things were supposed to be. But ever since he had caught Y/N staring at him, he had started to notice her, too. What he had also noticed? How his views and opinions slowly started to fade and change. He often hated the universe for making her a Mudblood or being born to a family of no importance. If only things could have been different, who knows, maybe he could have pursued her. If only his family hadn't been tied so closely to the Dark Lord, maybe he could've gotten away with doing whatever he wanted to do. Then again, if he failed to succeed in killing Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would have his head, so maybe he should just take the plunge. 

Her words hung in the air and the silence that followed was only interrupted by the second banging of the Clock, signalling that everyone had to be in their classrooms now. The girl in front of him let out a frustrated groan at the realisation she would have to miss her Herbology exam now that she was still stuck. 

“What?”

“I’ll miss my Herbology exam.”

Draco sniffed his nose, thinking there were worse things to miss out on. 

“Okay- you might think of it as unimportant and stupid, seeing as with one little wag of his finger, your father will have changed all your grades, but I actually have to work hard for my grades.”

Draco’s head whipped hear way, but he stayed quiet. Had anyone else talked to him this way, he would have lost it. But he could only stare at the girl, stunned. He realised that she saw him just like everyone else— like a spoiled and entitled brat. 

Y/N kept still, realising her mistake when she saw the conflict and pain in the boy’s eyes. 

After a few seconds, Draco opened his mouth, “It’s not like that at all, if you must know. My father would actually have my head if I only had bad grades. But I can’t blame you for not knowing that, we don’t know each other, remember?” He spoke slowly, immediately balling his fists afterwards to conceal the anger still left in him, the anger he definitely did not want to throw at her again.

Draco stood back up to throw his fists against the door instead, in hopes that someone would hear him.

“Hey! Let me out or you will hear from my father!” His lips sneered and Y/N was caught off guard by how quickly his demeanour could change. Just now, when he had been talking to her, he had turned so silent and soft, almost understanding, something she had never seen him do before. She had brought that side out of him, but now he was back to being that same brash Malfoy boy that everyone knew— and hated. 

Y/N sighed and threw her head in her hands, making Draco look at her. Of course, this was pure torture for the girl, to be trapped in a closet with him. And after all that his words had ruined in the mere span of five minutes, who could blame her?

“Can’t stand the thought of being anywhere near me? Do you want to get out of this closet so badly? I can't get out of it, or I would've. If only just to ease your nerves.” He teased, testing the waters, then realised why the girl next to him grinned softly.

“Oi, you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Do you find the closet comfortable then?”

“Only this one, with this company.” He said it with a laugh as a smirk slipped past his lips, surprising even himself. 

Y/N’s face flushed a bright red once more and this time Draco found his stomach tickling after witnessing it. He stared at her face again, long, then right into her eyes. He felt himself smiling once more. He cleared his throat, not wanting to dive in deeper, for now.

“So, um, Herbology then, yes?”

“What about it?”

“Is that your favourite subject?”

Y/N sat back once more and looked at him only to see the boy was being genuine, trying to make some smalltalk. She grinned.

“One of my favourites, yes. Although it’s hard to pick a favourite when you’re a student at a Wizarding School and didn’t grow up with it all. I want to indulge as much as I can.”

Draco nodded, realising the girl was hinting at her Muggleborn status.

“So what’s the muggle world like?” He asked after thinking hard and long of a question, finding himself ridiculous for being so nervous about her reaction, “How much does it really differ from ours?”

He knew he had asked the right question when he saw her face light up with glee, “Well, for starters, we don’t use apparition or the floo network, so travelling takes longer. When we have to get something, we can’t use Accio and-”

He smiled at her, truly smiled, as he listened to her passionately talk about her life back home. He gave himself a small pat of victory for getting the girl from looking at the ground to looking into his eyes, to making her feel comfortable enough to share something so personal. 

He answered the questions she asked in return and found himself enjoying her company immensely. The conversation flowed naturally, but it came to an abrupt stop when the door suddenly opened swiftly.

Professor Snape stood before them, but the two didn't realise until their eyes finally adjusted to the sudden harsh light. They were filled in horror when they saw their Professor looking down at them, taking them in, glaring into their eyes uncomfortably long. Snape looked between the two, then into the closet, and it doesn’t take a fool to see what assumption he was making. He lifted an eyebrow, once again taking the two squeezed-together teenagers in. Unsure whether to speak up about it, he sneered his lip in abhorrence, gave it another few seconds to ponder over, and then decided to skip the awkward conversation,

“Next time don’t run away when I call you or I’ll leave you there locked for eternity, Malfoy.” He spoke slowly, then quickly paraded away. 

The two walked out of the closet, weirded out by the sudden encounter, then turned to each other,

“I hope you won’t get into too much trouble with Sprout,” Draco offered a kind smile, which the girl returned,

“And you with Snape… with whatever it is you did."

Draco nodded, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. 

“You’re not so bad as they all make you out to be, but I already had a hunch,” Y/N spoke as she adjusted her hair, now aware they’re both in daylight again and not in the dark where she had been able to hide away in the shadows. But Draco didn't care. He took her in once more, and nodded his head pleasingly. 

“I’ll see you around.” The girl smiled softly, then turned to walk away until Draco stopped her,

“Same place, same time, next week?” 

He joked, realising that having Y/N as company hadn’t been so bad. To be quite frank, he was already looking forward to seeing her again.

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

© 𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀

REALLLLL

I just want to read some fluffy (non-smutty) Steve Rogers x Reader fic where he doesn’t abandon her and is not a dark alpha mob boss!!!! I hate the dark! Steve trope with a deadly passion, but the tag is filled with it! Makes me wanna gag.

I hate it here is for all the girlies who grew up reading books as a precocious child and dreamt of worlds that exist only in a sophisticated imagination, for the girls who live in delusions

GODDAMN. WHY IS NEYTIR SOO 😍😍😍😍???? I NEED MORE ART OF THIS ANDBBABDBDVD