The Way, ( )

the way, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 (𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗣𝗘𝗘𝗞)

"Listen," he interjected abruptly, his voice laced with a newfound determination. "I can tell you're a strong one, stronger than any Na'vi I've ever met." He skillfully redirected the conversation, steering it away from Spider, whose true identity as his "son" would remain concealed from the Na'vi woman until the time was right.

"And I could use that and that's why I'm here." he explained, his tone earnest and straightforward. "Help me and my team, and you can see your boy." He chose his words carefully, hoping that the simplicity of his message would resonate with her and convey the magnitude of what was at stake.

Ayteya's face contorted into a mixture of disbelief and amusement, her eyes narrowing in incredulity. "My help? You take me and my son, and you want me to help you? Are you sky people truly that arrogant?" Her words dripped with a blend of skepticism and defiance, challenging the Colonel's audacity.

The Colonel inwardly winced as her final words sliced through him, leaving a lingering sting. Perplexed by their impact, he pushed aside the surge of emotions they evoked to reveal his growing restlessness. "Do you wanna see Spider, or not? Because one look from me and I can make sure you never see him again."

© jeepersbxch 2023

So move me baby. Shake like the bough of a willow tree, you do it naturally, move me baby…💜

-Movement, Hozier

You wanted it, here you are you lovely wackos. Isn’t it amazing how wholesome he can look no matter fucking what? That’s true baby girl power right there and I don’t understand it but GODDAM do I love it.

He’s a very pretty boy and it’s honestly stupid how many hours I put into this thing, so if you like what you see PRETTY PLEASE reblog, follow, etc., there’s plenty more things to come!

Truly can’t overstate how much every single person who reblogged/commented on my last post deserves this and more. You all made my day so fucking much and I wanna give you all a loving boop on the nose✨ have a brilliant day everyone I love ya

This is the way.

ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!

🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. It’s an ugly sight, but you barely see it; you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you don’t have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you can’t let yourself wallow. There’s going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.

With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe that’s just because you’re still over-sensitive and irritable.

You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what you’d been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. It’s embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.

The term ‘toy’ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you aren’t a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. It’s embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted – despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, you’ve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure you’ve heard other people talking about.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube that’s still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing you’d been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.

It’s not as though you’ve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; you’re not unforgivably ugly, you don’t think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years you’ve been surrounded by military men that certainly aren’t known for being picky. And it certainly isn’t like you haven’t received your fair share of offers. 

It just never seemed right. You’re not overly concerned about ‘saving’ your virginity or anything like that; it’s just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. You’re aware of the irony, of course, that you’d trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.

You’re still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesn’t open; in that moment, you’re deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock – it’s something that you’ve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.

“Lass, you in there?” Oh god, it’s Soap. 

Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.

“Gimme a minute!” You yell, praying he doesn’t notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.

You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo you’d just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You don’t want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.

“Did ye forget about drinks?” Soap’s drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesn’t sound even slightly put out – if anything, he sounds a little amused.

You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.

“No, I– just a minute!” You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.

You had completely lost track of time, and now you don’t even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off – you’re going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.

When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. He’s dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.

“What the hell were you—”

“Gym.” You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.

Soap blinks, but apparently decides it’s not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.

You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects there’s gossip to be had, and you’re relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps it’s because you come across as such a non-sexual being that  it doesn’t even occur to him that there may be another explanation.

There’s an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol they’ve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and it’s always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game they’re playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the CO’s on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as it’s kept under control.

But tonight, you’re distracted.

The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long you’re all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.

The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.

You sit there feeling… unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. It’s been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride – you’re the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently it’s hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove. 

You engage in conversations the best you can, but you’re distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.

You don’t even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.

And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. It’s an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. He’s obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but he’s not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. He’s dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours. 

“You alright?” He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.

You haven’t been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where you’re sitting. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

His sudden proximity isn’t doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. It’s taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks. 

“Nothing.” You say quickly.

He doesn’t believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. He’s holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasn’t yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.

Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. He’s got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing lady’s ankles.

A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and you’re mortified to find that he’s caught you staring.

“What’s got you in such a mood?” He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that he’s smirking, though it doesn’t feel as though he’s making fun of you.

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You say without meeting his eyes.

It’s an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though he’s giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.

“Did something happen?” He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.

“No.” You sigh, finally looking properly at him.

It’s a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start – protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and you’ve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different – they don’t baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.

And maybe it’s because he’s your lieutenant, but Ghost’s attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like you’re pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.

You’ve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? He’s practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and he’s scary as fuck. But he’s also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you can’t begrudge that. Not when you know he’s working to keep you alive. Perhaps that’s how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.

Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and there’s a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesn’t hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline. 

You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. It’s not just the 141 that’s decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars. 

Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. It’s a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re about to catch fire.

You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.

“–ach, c’mon, Captain,” Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. “One round of strip poker won’t kill ya–”

“No.” Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.

Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.

“C’mon, lassie, you’ll play, won’t ya?” He asks with a grin that promises trouble. “I guarantee you’ll be a sight better than any o’ these louts.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gaz pipes up, already grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocks–”

Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. “Right. That’s enough of you lot for one night.”

Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.

“Offer’s still open, love,” Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. “Wanna play?”

Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.

You just roll your eyes. It’s not the first time that they’ve tried to rope you into strip poker, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when he’s three drinks in, whether he’s playing a game or not, so it’s not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.

And it’s not a big deal, really. There’s been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. You’ve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. It’s never meant anything, and you know that Soap’s teasing is exactly that – you don’t think they’ve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.

But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.

“Think I’ll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.” You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.

The playful booing from Soap doesn’t do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you can’t help but glance back at the lieutenant. He’s not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.

You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.

By the time you make it back to your dorm however, you’re already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.

Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, you’re not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether that’s soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.

But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid. 

It’s not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until you’ve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, you’ve never quite been able to reach that climax you’ve heard so many talk about.

It’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not as though you haven’t come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But it’s like there’s some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. It’s probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.

You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight – the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm you’ll likely never attain will only make it worse.

But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, you’re sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.

You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. It’s difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? It’s not like that’s unusual within the military, and you’re quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.

You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildo’s length before setting it aside on the blanket. While you’ve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. It’s a good dildo – a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but it’s one luxury you’re willing to indulge in.

You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.

Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.

You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily – you’re almost embarrassed by the easy slide. You’re so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. It’s a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan. 

You cycle through the vibrator’s different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.

You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. It’s hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his. 

You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.

Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, there’s a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.

“Kid, you–”

Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.

“Fuck.” You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off. 

You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, it’s difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. It’s another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.

And then, finally, silence.

Ghost is living up to his name right now; he’s as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. You’re not even sure that he’s breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.

You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.

At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. “You left your phone.”

He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but you’re hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.

“Ah.” You say, and your voice cracks. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence that’s settled over the room.

Ghost still hasn’t blinked. He’s watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator. 

“I–” You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. “I didn’t–”

Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.

“I thought I locked the door.” You finish lamely. 

Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which you’re honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you – the enormous bulk of him feels as though he’s completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.

“...‘S this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You were in a mood ‘cause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?”

It’s not a question, exactly. At least, it’s not phrased like one. Ghost’s tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. You’re certain that you’re not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.

“No.” You deny uselessy; it’s plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. “No, I just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghost’s stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets. 

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldn’t be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost – your lieutenant, the gruff man that you’ve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. He’s not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.

“Lt,” You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. “I swear I didn’t– I’m sorry–”

But Ghost doesn’t seem interested in your apologies. He’s still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though he’s measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him – no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.

You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; you’re pretty sure you’re not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave. 

But you don’t.

“I was.. um.. finished anyway.” You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.

Ghost doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all.

But then he says, “Didn’t look like you finished to me.”

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.

“I wasn’t trying to–” You start, then cut yourself off. “That’s not why I was– I was just trying to relax.”

In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesn’t laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– sir–”

“Let me see, sergeant.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Ghost’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and he’d do it. Knowing the lieutenant, he’d never bring it up again, either.

You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion. 

Under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, he’s a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.

Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You can’t afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when you’ll next have true privacy, and you’ve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. It’s never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.

This, however, is different. This isn’t just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when you’re out on missions – your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube you’d used.

Ghost’s inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. You’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another person’s presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant. 

At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and you’re beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response – any response.

At last, he makes a noise. It’s part grunt, part hum, and part groan.

“You’re still wet, sergeant.”

Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual? 

Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though you’re physically being pinned in place.

You swallow. “It’s just– I–”

“You didn’t get to finish.” Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you. 

You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.

“I wasn’t going to. Sir.” You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably needn’t have bothered. “Finish, I mean. I… I never do.”

You’ve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that they’re virtually impossible to discern.

“You never finish.” Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though he’s confirming what you’ve just said. 

It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.

Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghost’s big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. It’s so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.

“I don’t– I’ve tried,” You say, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re just digging yourself further into a hole, here. “But I don’t– I’m not able to. I mean, I’ve come close, I’m just not able to… you know.”

You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck haven’t you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?

Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. You’re feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.

His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. It’s standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.

“You ain’t doin’ it right, then.” He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. “Show me how you use it.”

For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if you’re experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you can’t really be experiencing this right now – and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and you’ve never disobeyed a direct order before. 

He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.

And… well. All you ever try to do is impress him. 

You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. You’ve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghost’s eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.

You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if it’s even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin that’s visible.

The dildo sinks in so easily that it’s almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you can’t dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghost’s sharp gaze.

His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that it’s making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you can’t figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that he’s watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. He’s looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that he’s judging you by what you’re doing.

“You gonna turn it on?” He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know you’re not imagining it. 

You can’t even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.

It feels nice, but you can’t manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghost’s attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. It’s a little exaggerated, but you can’t help it – you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show. 

You glance back at Ghost’s face, trying to guess what he’s thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that he’s frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?

“This how you usually do it?” He asks.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. “Um.. yeah.”

Ghost grunts. He doesn’t sound impressed.

“No wonder you can’t come.” He says wryly.

You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.

“Oh,” You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. “So you’re the pussy expert now?”

That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.

“Think I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.” He says. He’s relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. He’s always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl. 

Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.

“What about when you’re with other people, hm?” He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. “No one’s ever impressed you?”

His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but it’s never been enough for you.

You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.

“No one’s ever tried.” The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.

You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t move – it doesn’t even look like he breathes. 

“No?” He says, except it doesn’t really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee. 

You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.

Ghost’s wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. He’s so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.

“Never messed around with anybody?”

“No.” You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that he’s expecting you to elaborate. “No, I– it just never happened. I was never… um, I was just always too busy, I guess.”

“Too fussy, more like.” He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like it’s a comment meant just for himself. You don’t know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.

His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like there’s pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you don’t even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

How could you ever say no to that? You don’t really think that he’s going to succeed in making you come – at this point you’re pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and you’re just not capable of orgasming at all, and that’s whatever – but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? It’s like something out of a dream.

“Okay.” You choke out, nodding stupidly. “Yeah.”

You want to be touched. You don’t think you’ve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; you’re practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.

Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise he’s examining how you’ve soaked the toy.

He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. He’s got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that you’re never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.

It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But he’s slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit. 

When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesn’t touch where you want him to.

His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. He’s big. You knew he’d be big, of course, he’s big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe you’re a little out of your own depth here–

His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. “Take this off.”

You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that you’re not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.

Though you can’t see Ghost’s face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he can’t decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.

It’s silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this – you’ve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.

The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.

“Can’t be that sensitive.” He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.

It’s because you’ve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, you’ve never even touched yourself like this before. You’ve never bothered to play with your own tits; you’ve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghost’s scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, there’s no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.

“Sir–” You breathe, struggling not to squirm where you’re laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that they’re going to feel so much better than your own.

Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blond—

“What?” He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Say it.”

“Want to try your fingers.” You breathe before you can second-guess yourself. 

The laugh that rumbles out of Ghost’s chest is low and smoky. It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. You’ve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you can’t help but wonder desperately what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

He adjusts himself on the bed; he’s a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.

“Big brute.” You say, a little breathlessly.

He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn it’s like he’s been carved from steel and you can’t break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but you’d really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.

“Fuck,” He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. “Been hiding this all this time, huh?”

“Jesus.” You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.

He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way he’s smearing the clear sticky wetness that’s been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.

You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.

“D’you always get this wet?”

You can’t even tell if he’s asking you mockingly or if he’s being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.

It’s not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. You’ve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. He’s the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. You’ve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.

But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit. 

When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but there’s really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghost’s fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.

You’re so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.

You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesn’t even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop–” You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.

Ghost glances down at his fingers. They’re all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldn’t see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghost’s dark brown eyes.

He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you don’t even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.

And that’s– well. You’ve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, he’s rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose that’s clearly been broken at least once before.

You probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. You’re not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that they’ve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. It’s a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; you’re never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. He’s never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that he’s chosen to ignore it.

You’re so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.

The sound you make is small and startled, but it’s swallowed by Ghost’s demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms – mostly just to ground yourself – but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.

Listen, you’ve kissed people before, plenty times. You’re in your early twenties, and just because you’re inexperienced sexually it doesn’t mean that you’re inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghost’s t-shirt where it’s stretched over his thickly muscled arm.

Ghost doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. It’s like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghost’s hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass. 

 “Hah,” You gasp out when Ghost’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.

“You good?” Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.

“Uh huh.” You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like they’re a lifeline. “So good.”

His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and you’re distracted when Ghost’s hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.

Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Hnng,” You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. “I’m just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. He’s built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.

He likes that – he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. You’re so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but you’re able to ignore it because you’re so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that can’t really be how big he is.

You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but it’s impossible because he’s so fucking heavy and he’s pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. “You won’t be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.”

The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that he’s eye-level with your cunt.

“What are you–” You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear you’re actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.

“Oh, fuck, yes — please,” You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really don’t mind being the prey — not if it means you’ll be devoured by that mouth.

Then Ghost’s mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.

It’s just the right side of overwhelming. Ghost’s mouth feels like it’s going to swallow you whole – his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. It’s entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts you’ve ever made – you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but you’re swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.

His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.

Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like you’ve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.

“Oh god– fuck! Sir…” You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.

Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until you’re keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where he’s gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.

Though you don’t mean to, you’re pretty sure that you make his job harder. You can’t stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghost’s tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.

Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed – the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.

You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. You’ve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky. 

“Oh.. oh…” You breathe, beginning to arch your back.

You know this feeling – this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghost’s big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesn’t show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.

But then, right as you’re certain that you’re about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.

“No!” You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. “No, I was so close–!”

“Lie back.” Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip. 

You drop back obediently before you can even register that you’re moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghost’s deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.

God, but it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since it’s all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he’s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face – his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decency’s sake.

“You’re gettin’ greedy,” He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. “Wait for it, love. It’ll be worth the wait.”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out like this?” He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. It’s stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“No.” You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.

“Hnn.” He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. “That’s why you’ve been so tense, huh? So fuckin’ desperate for someone to touch you?”

“That’s not– ‘m not tense,” You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where they’re thrown over his shoulders. “Maybe.. Maybe you’re too relaxed.”

Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldn’t be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you don’t have time to feel stupid for it – not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.

“That’s it,” He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. “Relax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckin’ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.” And then, quieter, “Fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet.”

You’re not even sure that he’s talking to you. It seems more as though he’s talking to himself, and it just happens to be you he’s talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.

There’s a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that he’s going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.

But Ghost doesn’t seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.

When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.

“Shhh, atta girl.” He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesn’t even both pulling his face back. “Fuckin’– shit, so good.”

The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. You’re sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.

“Oh god–”

“Shhh.” Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.

Though Ghost’s eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasn’t looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because you’ve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You don’t know how you’re ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that he’s going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.

It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. You’ve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.

“Fuck.” You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. “Fuck, Ghost, just—”

“Quiet, lovie.” His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. It’s maddening, it’s infuriating, it makes you feel as though you’re about to break apart.

His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that he’s pressing your stupid dildo into you again.

“Oh, you bastard–” You start to complain, but Ghost doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak properly.

The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though you’ve been stretched out and pulled tight. 

Now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining you’ve been doing. Every roll of Ghost’s thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.

Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like he’s enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo. 

He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining “There!”. You needn’t bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and he’s so goddamn attentive. He’s already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Now that you’ve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you don’t think anything else will do.

He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though you’ve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.

Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, “Can I try yours?”

He pauses; goes so still that it’s honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because he’s deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesn’t mean he’s actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, he’s your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?

“I’m sorry,” You squeak. “That wasn’t appropriate. Fuck, forget I said that–”

Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghost’s Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.

“You sure?” He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. “I don’t... ‘m not good with virgins.”

There’s… there’s so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesn’t seem like he’s bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. He’s just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that he’s not good with virgins?

Instead, what you say is a rather lame, “I’m not technically a virgin.”

Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality – you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and you’ve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway. 

“Plastic cocks don’t count, darlin’.”

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. That’s just mortifying. 

“Oh, you think your cock is special, then?” You scoff, attempting nonchalance.

Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that he’s looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. It’s like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.

He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. It’s gentle – he doesn’t put an iota of pressure against your throat – but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.

Good fucking lord.

“You’ll find out.” He says.

And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.

He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you can’t help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesn’t make any move to strip them off any further. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you don’t have any time to feel self-conscious about it.

His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. He’s fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder he’s confident. He’s not lacking in any way.

“D’you’ve a johnny?” He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.

You’re distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. “What?”

“A condom.” He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.

“I know what you meant,” You snap, embarrassed. “But– no. Why would I? I’ve never…”

You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that he’s frowning beneath the mask, and you’re hit with a sudden bolt of panic – is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.

“It doesn’t matter,” You blurt, “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. It’s almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and you’re gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that he’s changed his mind, that he’s about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.

“Please,” You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. “Please, please, it’s fine, I swear, you don’t need one–”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. “How can a virgin be such a fuckin’ slut?”

Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know you’re not a slut – you’ve never searched for any sexual attention, and you’ve never even experienced someone else’s touch – but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.

Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, he’s gentle. He’s acting like you’re something fragile; he’s so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that he’s blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though he’s afraid to break you.

He’s still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.

He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. “Fuck, stay still.”

“Put it in.” You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. “Fuck, please, c’mon, c’mon–”

“Kid,” Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. “Need you to shut the fuck up for me.”

You manage to bite down on your lip, but you can’t stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You don’t understand why he’s making you wait – can’t he see how mean he’s being? You’re so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that it’s throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.

Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.

You want to beg again, but you’re still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.

Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery. 

The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet he’s somehow not even halfway inside. 

“Fuck,” You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. “Oh god, wait–”

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts he’s making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you can’t even decide if it’s good or if it’s too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.

God, he’s massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when you’re being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. You’re mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.

“Shh, shh.” Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. “Just a little bit more.”

“Fuck,” You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because he’s so big that there’s nowhere to go. “It’s not gonna fit!”

“Shh, lovie,” He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. “Relax’n let me in.”

“I– ‘m trying–” You whine, clutching at his biceps. “Jesus–”

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghost’s deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. He’s looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that it’s the only part of his face you can really see.

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.

When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic. 

Ghost’s hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until they’re pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. It’s like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as you’re speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.

He hasn’t even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.

“Too big,” You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. “Ghost–!”

“Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

That… that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. It’s stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else he’s done so far.

“Simon,” You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen. 

Apparently having come to the decision that you’ve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in. 

“Oh!” You yelp, hips jumping, but there’s nowhere to go. 

All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you can’t. It’s like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.

You’re not quite prepared for how different this feels; it’s nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghost’s cock is bigger, but it’s also hotter and with more give than you expected, and you’ve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.

Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isn’t coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.

All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. You’re bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way that’s making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you. 

He’s fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesn’t put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours. 

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Yeah, you needed this,” Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “This’s why you were so fuckin’ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkin’ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?”

“Uh huh, yeah,” You slur out, not even sure what you’re agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.

“Ain’t gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?” He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. “Just needed your little pussy filled, that’s all.”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, “That’s it, doll.”

You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Ghost’s gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage. 

With his mask rumpled up around his nose, you’re gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. It’s so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist — any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how you’re even able to fit him inside you.

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.”

Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. There’s no question as to whether you’re drooling.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.

“Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

 You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though he’s been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud. 

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.

“Simon–” You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit. 

He grunts to show that he’s heard you, but he doesn’t seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. You’re practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghost’s blisteringly hot neck.

It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. You’re trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly. 

“Fuck, love.” Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. “You gonna come?”

No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that it’s never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know what’s happening.

You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that you’ve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck–” You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.

It doesn’t grow and dissipate in the way you’re used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until you’re whimpering and clinging to Ghost like he’s a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face. 

Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean. 

You’re a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesn’t falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.

You sob – an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.

“Look so lovely when you come, sweetheart,” Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. “God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you can’t deny that he has reason to be. He’s the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if you’ll ever be the same after this.

Despite the sting of Ghost’s punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesn’t care as much for precision now that he’s succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. It’s almost tender, as though he’s aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.

There’s a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.

Then just when you think you’re beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.

He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. And he comes a lot. 

You’re stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt. 

The minutes afterwards are a blur. 

You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.

For a moment, you think you’re alone. You’re becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that you’re shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought. 

God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that you’re going to feel the shadow of Ghost’s cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet you’re swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.

It feels like you’re too big for your body, and you’re clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.

You’re so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. “Shh, hey, lay down.” Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.

Maybe it’s just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.

“Thought you left.” You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.

Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; it’s an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way you’re still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.

“No.” He says simply.

The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. He’s a little rough about it, but you don’t think it’s on purpose. Gentleness doesn’t come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that he’s trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.

When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.

When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghost’s stare is burning.

You wonder if he’s about to leave now – you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that you’ve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though it’s always been difficult to tell what he’s thinking. But you trust him – you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that he’ll handle things.

Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. It’s a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. He’s surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that he’s joining you in bed before he’s wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.

You’d love to act chill and cool about the fact that he’s now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. He’s still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.

Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and you’re perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how you’re going to face Ghost in training. It’s a problem for another time.

“You still alive?” Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.

He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.

“I dunno,” You mumble, words a little garbled. “Think… think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.”

Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. He’s touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you that’s squishy-soft.

“Think I might have,” He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “But I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryin’ out for it all day.”

You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you can’t manage to drum up any genuine reaction.

Ghost’s roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but he’s aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.

“Told you a real cock would be better,” He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. “You’ve got a fussy little cunt – ‘s only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.”

You’d love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.

As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. “Yeah. Fussy and greedy.”

He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officer’s hand.

“Ghost– Simon–” You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.

“Yeah,” He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. “One little orgasm wasn’t enough, was it?”

“No.” You choke out, throwing your head back so that it’s resting against Ghost’s broad chest. “No, ‘t wasn’t.”

You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghost’s touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure he’s going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.

“Gimme five minutes,” He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. “And I’ll give you your second.”

sorry i haven't read your fic yet it's been in my open tabs for 8 months

tsamsiyu ta'em - nothing is lost

Masterlist - part twelve

Summary: The Sky People make their move. The Metkayina rise up against the threat of their home.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 14k+

Warnings: canon-compliant, mature language, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, rushed, time skips, fluff, angst, major character death, child endangerment, etc.

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx​ @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings @tojisleftarm @andyfromku @ivysully

A/N: Thank you for your patience! At the very least, I'm not George R.R. Martin, who is 12 years late on the new book 🤣

This... is a very long chapter. Strap in. You guys deserve a treat for waiting for me 💕

The village was eerily quiet. Yes, it was raining and gloomy again, but something smelled off in the air when Kayla took a deep breath, her avatar nose smelling more than her human one could even dream of. It was an odd hour of the day for the Metkayina to be completely absent as she walked down the slippery pathways, her dog tags cold from the weather and clicking softly from where they dangled around her neck, the safari jacket she had thrown on that morning soaking through to her skin as the rain pressed on. Kayla scoffed to herself and wanted nothing more than to peel the useless piece of clothing off since it was now uncomfortable, but the rifle in her arms kept her from doing so. She intended to walk to the Sully marui that morning to ask Jake to borrow his cleaning supplies for his weapons, wishing to run maintenance on her own AK, but upon walking into her brother's home, she is surprised and confused to find all her nieces and nephews keeping warm inside but neither Jake nor Neytiri was around.

Tuk got up to greet her aunt with a hug around her waist, and as Kayla pat her back, Neteyam helpfully took the gun out of Kayla's arms while the older woman looked around, squinting her eyes, "Neteyam, where's your parents?"

"The tulkun returned again and they were afraid of something," the teenage boy lowered his head, ears drooping and voice laced with concern, "Mom and Dad went out with the clan leaders and a party to see what was wrong."

Kayla's eyes widen while looking around, now easily seeing the concern on all of the children's faces. Instinctively, she didn't want to assume any danger and immediately sought out to comfort her nieces and nephews, "Alright, well, maybe we should get some food going for when they get back. I'm sure it's nothing."

No one spoke as they got to work strengthening the embers of the hearth and preparing a meal. Kayla sat down with the teenagers while gathering Tuk in her lap, watching Kiri prepare some fish over the fire. Something hung heavy in the air. Perhaps it was the moisture or the thunder off in the distance, but no one bothered to speak up and question it. The mood was sour as the Sullys patiently waited for the patriarch and matriarch of the family to return. Kayla noticed that Lo'ak was the only one unable to look his aunt in the eyes as they all sat around, worried about whatever might be waiting for the party of Na'vi warriors, but she decided not to ask about it. She had a feeling that since this situation was tulkun-related, her youngest nephew was likely glum about yesterday's events involving Payakan. 

Unaware of how much time had passed, all Sullys perked their heads up at the sound of crows and yips, indicating the Na'vi conversing with one another from a distance. The village began to stir with life once more, and before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, Tsireya had run into the Sully marui, out of breath and hair drenched from the rain.

She looked frightened, appearing far younger than a thirteen-year-old girl, "The party has returned-- Your sa'sem are alright," she's quick to reassure Lo'ak and his siblings before her eyes darted back to Kayla, "But my father has just declared war on the Sky People!"

"What?" Kayla hastily stood up, dumping Tuk into Neteyam's lap when he wasn't as quick to stand. Kayla's heart had plummeted into her stomach, dread beginning to rise the little hairs running up and down her back, neck, and arms.

"They are gathering for a meeting right now!"

"Show me," Kayla ordered lowly, voice full of authority and determination setting in her gaze. Tsireya nods and runs back out of the pod. Kayla doesn't hesitate to follow.

Neteyam set his baby sister down in front of the fire as he and his other siblings stood to follow their aunt, "Tuk, stay here until someone comes back and gets you."

"But--"

"Stay here!"

Kayla could hear her older niece and nephews run out of the marui to join her, but her feet didn't slow as she walked with a destination in mind, unwilling to stop for anything. She followed Tsireya through the village. As they got closer to the communal canopy, more and more Metkayina emerged from their homes, and a growing crowd formed. It quickly became dense, the area full of Na'vi as Tsireya and Kayla drew closer, lightly scooting past other men and women to get to the center. Kayla spots something in the crowd and reaches out to grab Tsireya's shoulder, stopping both of them in their tracks. Kayla's eyes had narrowed in on the sight of Neytiri and Jake, standing at the front of the crowd and looking as though they had both seen ghosts. By the time Neteyam and his siblings joined Kayla, she already had a goal for them in mind.

"Get to your parents," she sternly told the teenagers, nodding in Jake and Neytiri's direction, "Tsireya, let's see if we can get closer. Break."

The small group scatters, going separate ways and weaving through the crowd. Tsireya and Kayla stick together until they find themselves standing at the very front of the gathering, apart from Rotxo and Ao'nung, who stand in front of them. The two young warriors didn't look very happy and while Kayla looked around, she finally spotted Tonowari and Ronal. They stood at the center of the crowd, standing over the rest. The tsahik appeared distraught and torn, streaks of rain and tears mixing while a hidden rage swam in her eyes. The olo'eyktan stood beside her, enraged, barely keeping in his anger while furiously gripping the spear in his hand. Jake has moved into Kayla's line of sight, right in front of Ronal. When the avatar woman looked around for the rest of her family, she spotted Kiri silently comforting Neytiri, the Na'vi woman looking distressed and welcoming her daughter's hand. Neteyam was off to the side of them, holding onto a device that drove Kayla's blood to freeze. She recognized the design of humans from anywhere, a long and large spear-like contraption with red, metal encasings to shield the mechanics inside from saltwater. A tracking device.

Ronal confirmed Kayla's suspicions while crying out in anger so that the entire village could hear, "My Spirit Sister and her baby have been murdered by the Sky People!"

A small sob can be heard off to the side of Kayla and when she looked down, she was quick to throw her arm around Tsireya while the girl wept for her mother's tulkun. Meanwhile, cries of anguish and rage emerged from the crowd, snarling and cursing the humans at the top of their lungs so they could be heard over the rain. 

Tonowari exclaims angrily over their cries, "This war has come to us. We knew about this hunting of our tulkun people. But it was over the horizon, far away. Now it is here!" 

They all respond to their chief with cries of war, snarling menacingly while baring their fangs and displaying their tongues as he did.  

The crowd continues to rile themselves up for battle while Jake is desperate to calm them down, "No, you don't-- You gotta understand how the Sky People think! They don't care about the Great Balance!"

"We do not answer to Sky People!" One warrior shouted menacingly to Jake from the back of the crowd, and an encore of agreeing, snarling Metkayina responded in kind. Kayla flinched, ears lowering as the familiar whispers, snarls, and stares suddenly overwhelmed her. Jake's eyes flick drastically over the head of Na'vi and quickly lock onto hers, to which she silently says what she had been saying all along by gritting her teeth behind a closed mouth and narrowing her eyes at him.

'I told you so. Demon Siblings.'

Neteyam was desperate to control the crowd in his father's favor, waving the large, red tracking device in his hand while pleading, "Listen! Listen to him!"

"The Sky People are not gonna stop. This is only the beginning," Jake continues to try negotiating, directing his attention back to the clan leaders standing before him, "You gotta tell your tulkun to leave! You gotta tell them to go far away!"

"Leave?" Ronal echoed the word with a resounding scoff of sorrow and disbelief, "You live among us, and you learn nothing!"

"We will fight to protect our brothers and sisters!" Another warrior behind her exclaims and the Metkayina begin another wave of snarls and hisses. 

"No, no, no, no... If you attack, if you fight, then they will destroy you!" Jake shouts over the crowd, "They will destroy everything that you love!" His voice cracks in desperation, angrily motioning to Ronal's baby bump while looking her dead in the eye. The tsahik instinctively placed a gentle hand on her stomach as all of her people began shouting angrily to Jake, all the while he kept trying to talk over them.

"We will fight!"

"No! You hear my words!"

"We will fight!"

"Hear my words!"

"Stay calm. Stay calm!" Neteyam pleads to those who stood closest to him. Meanwhile, over his shoulder, his mother remained eerily quiet. She glances around at all the angry Metkayina, all of them anxious for a fight, anxious to protect their home. It was all too familiar to Neytiri, overwhelmed with that familiar dread and grief for her Hometree. Her older son continues to try and negotiate alongside her husband, drowning out her thoughts as he shouts, "Listen to my father!"

"Damn it!" Jake was frantic when nothing he said appeared to slow the Na'vi down, desperate for leverage until his eyes zeroed in on the large tracking device in Neteyam's hands. Quickly, he dives forward.

"He speaks the truth!" Neteyam is unable to say more as his father snatches the device out of his hands, the fast movement driving Kayla to straighten in alarm as her brother races to the center of the crowd, stepping up over everyone and raising the device in the air, silencing the entire village with his act and grabbing their attention. The clambering died down and Kayla couldn't help but notice Ronal reach for Tonowari in the heavy silence, holding onto his arm out of fright until he opened his hand without looking back at his wife. Wordlessly, Ronal slips her hand in his, a perfect fit, their conjoined knuckles brushing against her baby bump as they stare at the device in Jake's hand with caution.

"You tell the tulkun that if they're hit by one of these, they're marked for death. And call for me or my sister, we'll silence it." 

Eyes look between Jake and Kayla, and it took a lot of willpower for the sister not to curl in her shoulders and try to hide. It helped that Tsireya looked up at Kayla with hope in her eyes as if the avatar woman was capable of grabbing the stars. Kayla faintly smiles down at the girl but it disappears just as fast while Jake continues, "Saving their lives, that's all that matters. Right? Saving your family."

Tonowari peers around at all his people, cautious, his anger beginning to fade as he's left with begrudging acceptance. Looking down at Ronal last, his mate briefly flicks her eyes up to him before they close and she gives a brief nod, clutching his hand tightly for a moment to silently share her opinion. 

Finally, the great olo'eyktan steps up to Jake, overlooking the crowd and raising his spear, speaking softer but with more weight in his words, "Tell the tulkun."

Ronal briefly lets go of his hand and turns to her people, "Go. Go!"

Shouts echo off one another as the chosen warriors leave the gathering and journey out into the reef, calling their respective ilu and tsurak. Tsireya turns to see where she had last seen Lo'ak in the crowd, only to find him already walking away. Neteyam also sees his brother exit and an all-knowing gaze washes over before he moves to stomp after Lo'ak. Tsireya had left Kayla's side amidst the chaos of people upon watching both Sully brothers disappear before she could get to them, sensing what was about to happen.

Kayla looks around as the crowd begins to disperse, and already her family has left her alone, moving in separate directions. Her head turns to each one, wondering which way to go first, and who to follow. Kiri had run off to get Tuk while Jake brought Neytiri away to talk privately. Her hesitance to choose where to go causes her to stall and she's suddenly aware of Tonowari and Ronal stepping down onto the pathway, beelining toward her. 

Tonowari's solemn gaze keeps Kayla still in her tracks, unable to move. He stared down at her with purpose, voice low so that only they could hear, "Now it is our war."

Dread takes over Kayla once more, adding to the cold of the rain on her skin. Ears lowered under the chief's scrutiny, her eyes briefly turned to Ronal. The tsahik was still clearly devastated by the loss of her Spirit Sister, ears drooping and frown trembling. Kayla opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find the right words to say, the only thing ever coming out in a hushed whisper, "I'm so sorry..."

She regrettably pulls away, knowing that she would not be good company while Ronal mourns. Kayla isn't able to look away from the clan leaders until she's forced to watch where she's going, turning to look ahead and find her brother. Jake and Neytiri were outside the communal canopy, off to the side to avoid any traffic going in and out. When Kayla approached them, Jake held out the tracking device to her.

"You can disarm these things, right?"

Kayla grabbed the tracker and inspected it, going back into marine mode, "Looks simple enough if we run into more. What happened out there?"

"Bad things. I'll tell you later," Jake shook his head, defeated, "RDA is definitely closing in. I need you to either break your link tonight or radio Norm. Let him know what's going on."

"You got it."

He looks around, "Where are the kids?"

Both Kayla and Neytiri look around while the former answers, "I saw them leave. I know at least one of them went to check on Tuk. We left her at home."

Neytiri didn't appear convinced when she turned her head back to Kayla, "They left without saying anything?"

"I assumed you knew where they were going. Tsireya seemed to know. She went after them."

All three adults fall into silence before they agree to go and find the children. They stick together while looking throughout the village, asking around. At first, no one seemed willing to help them, and the small glances at Jake and Kayla were the only indicator as to why, much to Jake's annoyance and Kayla's inner smugness toward proving her brother right. Neytiri hissed at those who were openly unhelpful and went her own way, down to the ilu pens. Jake and Kayla are quick to follow her, staying behind her so as to not get in her way as they search for the kids.

Eventually, they found a boy who occasionally hangs out with Ao'nung. Neytiri doesn't hesitate to question him, "Have you seen my children?"

The teenage boy looks up and his eyes widen at the sight that was Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite. He's quick to answer her, stumbling over his words, "I saw Ao'nung and Rotxo with them just a minute ago. They took off."

"Dad, I-- I mean Devil Dog. Do you read me?"

Kayla and Jake quickly pick up the sound of Lo'ak's voice coming from their respective earpieces and quickly grow concerned as to why he would call them. Neytiri is unaware of their sudden alertness as she continues to interrogate Ao'nung's friend, "Did you see where they went?"

"-- It's Eagle Eye, do you copy?"

"They went outside the reef." The boy responds, only to be ignored by Neytiri when Jake taps her arm to get her attention, still focused on his son's voice while reaching up to his throat mic to respond.

"Yeah, Lo'ak?"

"Dad!" Neytiri is quick to understand what's happening and pulls her own listening device back in her ear to hear the conversation. Lo'ak's voice was frantic and scared, "We're with a tulkun that's under attack. Killer ship's inbound. It's about two klicks out."

"Shit," Kayla muttered while Neytiri grabs Jake's arms, eyes widening in terror.

Jake's voice is laced with that same terror, "Who's with you?"

"It's all of us! Ao'nung and Tsireya, too." Neytiri gasps silently, visibly wincing at the idea of all of her children in danger, "We're at Three Brothers Rocks."

Neytiri's hand covers her mouth while Jake spouts instructions, "You get to cover, and you do not engage. All right? You hear me? Do not engage, we're comin'."

"Yes, sir."

Jake sprints back into the center of the village, his wife and his sister hot on his heels. Other warriors run with them when they sense their fear and alarm, all racing to get to the olo'eyktan's marui. They yip and call out to Tonowari as they draw closer, the chief looking up from where he sat inspecting a fishing net at the lip of the pod. He's instantly alert to see Toruk Makto racing to him, Ronal soon appears at the entrance to see what the commotion is about.

"The kids are under attack!" The chief immediately rises to his feet as Jake explains, "The kids are under attack. They were defending a tulkun. It's your kids, too."

The weight of the news causes Ronal to spin back around and immediately grab her weapons from within the marui. Tonowari tilts his head to Jake for clarification, "The demon ship?"

"Yes! We gotta go!" Jake yells back as he, Neytiri, and Kayla race off toward their own home. 

"Weapons. Sound the alarm!"

The Metkayina warriors yip and runoff, spreading the news as they went, drawing more and more Na'vi to start yipping in unison, growing louder and louder in number. As they draw closer to the Sully marui, Neytiri and Kayla mimic bird sounds to call their respective ikran, seeing the familiar distant sight of wings flying toward them from the forest. They then follow Jake into the pod, gathering as many weapons as they can carry. Jake hands Kayla's rifle to her before grabbing his tomahawk and slipping it into the sheath on his back. He then grabs his arsenal vest and flings it over his shoulder, kneeling down and helping Kayla divide all the ammunition they have on them. 

Neytiri grabs her father's bow and holds it to her, breathing in deeply and willing for Eywa to protect her children through her. She then grabs her sheath of arrows and turns around, briefly pausing as Jake catches her eye. The parents share a knowing look and a nod before sprinting back outside with Kayla closely following them. The rest of the village is alive with alarm, dozens and dozens of Metkayina with spears diving into the water below, summoning their tsurak and following their clan leaders out beyond the reef. Jake follows them into the water to grab his own tsurak while two ikran land on the pathways for Neytiri and Kayla to mount. Gracefully, both women take to the air as the banshees squawk, holding onto their reins with one hand and clutching their weapons in the other. They quickly swoop down to fly just above the army of tsurak as the skimwing slowly rise out of the water and fan out their gliding wings, one by one. Neytiri raises her bow up and gives her best war cry to which Jake echos back from below. Ronal looks up and sees Neytiri and Kayla astride their banshees and ululates, adjusting the spear in her hand to which her whole village responds behind her as their army takes off, ready to defend their children and their home. 

"Kayla, Neytiri," both women focus on the voice in the earpiece. Jake gives them instructions when he has their attention, "I need you up top, using the clouds for cover. Be my eyes from above and wait for my signal."

"Copy that," Kayla presses her throat mic and then pulls up on her handlebar, making a demand in her head while Thena simply follows it. The ikran squawks and further rises into the sky, breaking away from the army of tsurak and Metkayina. Neytiri yips and pulls her ikran to follow them, the two women disappearing into the clouds until Jake is unable to see them.

They flew through the clouds for a while until they made it to their destination. Neither of them could see Three Brothers Rocks from this height, but they knew their whereabouts. Kayla had Thena slowly descend, just ever so slightly beneath the clouds so she could get a visual, looking through the scope of her rifle to look down toward the ocean with a bird's eye view. She saw the three large peaks of rocks sprouting out of the ocean that Lo'ak had described and once she got her bearings, she proceeded to look for anything else in the surrounding area.

It wasn't hard to spot the hunting ship, large enough for even larger prey, like whales, floating not too far away from where Lo'ak had pinged his location. Several speed boats armed to the teeth with harpoons and sound cannons lined up around the front of the ship, likely as the first line of defense, and it was hard to miss the submersibles diving down into the water, forming large splashes and ripples around the ship. Kayla recognized the two gunships sitting silently on the hunting ship's platform, and she silently thanked God that for now, the rotors didn't appear to be moving. What actually worried her, however, was the half a dozen ikran idly flying around or sitting idle on the ship, sporting modern-looking saddles and pouches. In her experience knowing the behavior behind these animals, they don't appear alert or battle-hungry for the time being. They were more or less bored looking and basking in the sun while waiting for their riders. 

She leaned away from her scope to press her fingers into her throat mic, "Devil Dog, do you read me?"

Jake's voice soon answered her, "Go ahead, Desert Fox."

"I got eyes on the target. One WIGE ship, and several boats lined up in front. They have idle subs and SeaWasps on board. Can't get a headcount of personnel. There's about five or six banshees decked out in military gear, riderless."

"Copy that. Stay hidden with Clever Arrow for the time being."

"Lima Charlie." 

"We're just approaching Eagle Eye's last location. Stand by."

Kayla doesn't respond, taking a deep breath instead and using the strap on her rifle to prop the weapon behind her back, letting it dangle. She looked over to Neytiri as the Na'vi woman and her ikran glided close beside her, "We stay up here."

"And what about my children?" Neytiri snapped, though Kayla didn't take it to heart, knowing the anger wasn't directed at her. She could only imagine what her sister-in-law was going through, stressed and worried sick for her babies. 

Before she could answer or provide Neytiri with a form of comfort, a strange voice, much different from any voice Kayla knew, came in through her earpiece, addressing her brother, "Jake, tell your friends to stand down."

Kayla quickly held up one hand to let Neytiri know she was getting something, then cupped her other hand over her earpiece, trying to pinpoint the strange southern drawl that had intercepted their radio chatter, "You want your kids back, you come out alone. You know better than to test my resolve."

Kayla's blood began to freeze, her heart hammering in her chest to keep it all pumping. The voice had to have been Quaritch to address Jake as if they knew each other, and even if it wasn't the colonel, whoever it was had Kayla's nieces and nephews. Whoever it was had Lo'ak captured at the very least, considering he was the only one out of the Sully children to have a mic and earpiece. The suspected Quaritch continued to speak, "I took you under my wing, Jake. You betrayed me. You killed your own. Good men. Good women. I will not hesitate to execute your kid."

"Just wait one!" Jake finally responded, his voice deeply disturbed and desperate.

Silence fell over the radio chatter, and Kayla could only wait with bated breath. Neytiri and her ikran were visibly growing distressed and irritated, flying in short, unpredictable turns from left to right as if trying to burn off their pent-up energy. Kayla gave the other woman a wider berth while trying not to appear anxious herself, her quiet pants and rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears, along with the wind. 

"Offer's fixin' to expire. What's it gonna be?" Quaritch asked after a short minute.

"Check your fire. I'm comin' out."

"Fuck," Kayla muttered, turning to Neytiri, "We should drop lower. Jake is approaching alone."

Neytiri barely gives Kayla enough time to finish her sentence as she leans forward and internally orders her banshee to dive. Kayla orders Thena to do the same, and together they lower through the clouds, trying to remain hidden while moving in for a closer look. 

They lower a significant amount, flying out from behind a small mountain peak sticking out of the water, soft gray clouds drifting apart to reveal the battlefield site below. From this distance, it appears everything is at a standstill, and there weren't any indicators to suggest otherwise. Neytiri quickly presses into her throat mic, "Ma Jake, what is happening? Ma Jake?"

Kayla shifts her feet in the footholds of her ikran, Thena jerking her head to share the tension she felt in their bond. Jake didn't answer Neytiri, which worried both women further, unsure of how to proceed. Both looked at one another, thinking the same thing. Do they stay or attack? Does Jake have a plan?

The wait felt like ages, but eventually, movement could be seen down below, and it was so large that Neytiri and Makayla could clearly see what was happening. A large form erupted from below the waters, rising up and leaping over the hull of the WIGE ship, slamming down with a large bellow and jostling the entire ship along with its passengers. A tulkun bull, young and smaller than ones Kayla has seen, but still large enough to give those idle gunships a run for their money. As the tulkun wiggled around on deck, flailing his fins and tail around to knock over or crush any Sky People or Recom, Kayla finally managed to spot a missing fin among the chaos. From listening to Lo'ak and Neteyam's stories, she was able to identify who this fearsome creature was. Payakan.

For a moment, the Sky People and Recom avatars were distracted by the whale-like animal that had quite literally flopped up on deck, making the mistake of disengaging from the Na'vi as they turned their boats and guns around on the tulkun outcast. Rapid gunshots could be heard from all the way up in the sky, and Kayla and Neytiri could only look on in amazement. Payakan bellows again, louder, echoing in Kayla's ears even from this distance, startling the Recoms' idle ikran as they all spread their wings and took flight out of fear. 

As the humans were too busy trying to defend themselves and deal with Payakan, Jake was finally pinpointed in the chaos. Kayla had only managed to see him when he drove his tsurak forward and the skimwing took flight, spreading its wide, orange gliders, charging for battle by his lonesome across a dark blue ocean. Suddenly, several other tsuraks took flight, spreading their wings out one by one until the battlefield below Kayla and Neytiri looked like flying ants charging toward a toy boat in the bathtub. Amidst the charge, Payakan was seen diving back into the water, using his fins as leverage to push his weight off the ship. With the tulkun out of sight, the Sky People had turned back around and found themselves fumbling to meet up against the Na'vi as the Metkayina came up behind them using the element of surprise. Rapid gunfire sounded out, now aimed at the army of skimwings, who responded by folding their wings back up and diving down into the water to escape the bullets. 

With both sides now engaged in battle, Kayla turned to Neytiri and gestured with her arm, "Let's go!"

Neytiri screeches out a war cry and together they dive down to join the fight, their ikran crowing in response. The banshees fold in their wings to dive faster, the wind whipping wildly in Kayla's face and ears while she held on tight to Thena with one hand and gripped her AK in the other, primed and ready.

Two primary targets took to the sky around the same time Neytiri and Kayla reached the battle. The Recoms had mounted their ikran and were flying up to greet the enemy, with the gunships now following their example. Neytiri broke off from Kayla and flew to the gunship as it was shooting down into the water to get to the Metkayina, approaching fast on her target from above. She raised her bow and aimed, expertly shooting an arrow into the cockpit, shattering the glass while the arrow lodged into the pilot's chest. The gunship crashed into nearby rocks and blew up in a cloud of fire and smoke, Neytiri celebrating her small victory with chants of ululating as she flew by. 

By now, the Metkayina have finally begun their assault, their tsurak springing out of the water and leaping above the smaller boats, the Na'vi riders spearing any Sky People on board before dragging them down into the depths of the ocean below. The skimwings themselves have attacked alongside their riders, opening their rows of teeth to any unsuspecting humans when they lept out of the water. Jake flew around and opened fire, emptying rounds of ammunition into a patrol boat until it burst into flames before swiftly turning his tsurak away from the explosion. 

It was like the Sky People had finally woken up and begun to wreak havoc themselves, emptying bullets into any nearby Metkayina or tsurak and letting their bodies sink back into the waters. Rocket projectiles, machine guns, grenades, harpoons, and depth charges were used against spears and arrows, proven effective by the growing body count of Na'vi. It began to become an obstacle course for the tsurak as large plums of water sprang up all around them like erupting geysers, forcing the Na'vi to dodge and weave to avoid injury or worse. Jake managed to dodge the grenade launcher that formed these waves of geysers and took aim, shooting the driver of the patrol boat that the launcher was stationed on. With the driver dead, the boat sped into rocks and sent the rest of its crew flying before exploding. Jake took a minute to breathe and reload, grunting tiredly in his old age.

He was caught in a moment of weakness as a Recom dived down with their ikran from above, aiming their sights on his head, before a screech could be heard and the Recom avatar only managed to turn his head just in time to see Thena with her armed jaws spread wide before everything turned to black. Kayla grunts when her ikran makes an impact with the Recom's beast, holding tight as both banshees struggle and flap their wings against each other in the air. Kayla only heard the resounding crunch of the Recom's skull before Thena finally pushed away from the enemy ikran and disengaged. Jake had looked up just in time to see the Recom's headless body slide off its ikran's back and Kayla flew away above hers, a small smirk taking form on the proud brother's face. He looked away and brought his focus back into the fight, taking his tsurak and diving back down into the water.

Another gunship was about to take off from the platform of the hunting ship before Neytiri spotted it, swiftly taking it down and causing it to explode using only a single arrow. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees an enemy ikran pursuing her and she quickly turns her own banshee away. The Recom rider that followed her was none other than Quaritch, and like he had a score to settle, he began to open fire. Neytiri learned from past experience to have her ikran dodge and weave the bullets, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. She knew she couldn't serpentine forever, and flashbacks of the last time she was shot out of the sky haunted the back of her mind, so she called out in short bursts of yips, yelping for assistance.

The backup came in the form of her husband, answering her distressed calls. Jake and his tsurak leap out of the water, flying right behind Quaritch, and roared as he began to open fire on the colonel. Quaritch takes evasive maneuvers, Neytiri forgotten, while he tries to avoid getting shot. He was only given a window of opportunity when Jake ran out of ammo and quickly had to stop and reload. Jake threw his empty clip over his shoulder and pats around his vest for more, only to come up empty aside from the dread now looming in his chest, "Oh, shit."

Meanwhile, Neytiri had flown back to aid Kayla in taking down the other Recoms flying around, the Forest woman using her ikran to make a large loop upside down as she aimed and fired an arrow into an enemy avatar. Kayla responded in kind by shooting down another Recom that was ready to go after Neytiri for killing his friend. Kayla looked around for more targets and saw another Recom shooting down into the water, presumable at a Metkayina and their tsurak. Kayla flew down to their aid, raining a hellfire of bullets into both the Recom and their ikran. The bodies of both banshee and avatar crashed into the water, and the Metkayina briefly turned around to glance at her pursuer's corpse. 

It was Ronal, her spear missing and her heart skipping in her chest to see the demon that was trying to shoot her while she was helpless was now dead. Peering up through the ocean's surface, the tsahik could make out an image of Kayla and her ikran flying away with the enemy dead, distorted by the movement of water and unaware of Ronal's gratitude. 

Kayla now turned to a particularly large shape forming in the water, deciding to finish off any survivors from the damage Payakan left in his wake. With the flick of his tail, he had sent a whole patrol boat into the propellor of the hunting ship, killing everyone on board the smaller boat as it burst into flames. Weirdly enough, the propellor fans began to kick into high gear, the flames of the explosion getting pulled through until the whole fan exploded as a result. Suddenly, the very large WIGE ship is pushed forward, going at high speed toward a scattering of rocks peeking out of the water as if the ship had been sabotaged from the inside. The vessel crashes, being thrown into the air while the rocks scrape along the underbelly, causing irreparable damage. The ship momentarily flies in the air before slowly crashing back down into the sea, worse for wear as it slows to a stop. Kayla noticed a surface boat with a harpoon holder welded into the bow of the vessel quickly picking up speed to avoid getting crushed by the large ship and decided to set her sights on its crewmembers. She leans forward as Thena picks up speed, flying toward the vessel at the same time Payakan appears to have noticed the small boat as well. 

Elsewhere, Jake had to dive back into the water to avoid getting shot by Quaritch now that the colonel had the upper hand. When The Recom leader managed to lose sight of his target, Jake took the moment of opportunity to leap his tsurak out of the water and have the skimwing latch its razor-sharp teeth into the neck of Quaritch's ikran. Quaritch yells out, surprised and enraged as both tsurak and ikran struggle together, entangled while their riders shout out grunts and war cries, pushing and pulling to gain the upper hand with all their stubborn might. Quaritch is flung from his banshee, crashing into the water while Jake's tsurak drags the ikran into the depths before finally unlatching its teeth and letting go. The ikran swims then fly away upon surfacing, abandoning its master as Quaritch swims to the surface, gasping for air with his rifle in hand. 

The harpoon vessel had begun to follow Payakan upon sighting him, and the tulkun swam alongside it until the harpoon was let loose. Payakan dove and shifted in the water, narrowly avoiding the harpoon before using the tusk-like structure on the bow of his head to spin and tangle the strong cable attached to the harpoon around him before further clamping his jaws around the cable for extra measure. He swims fast, faster than normal until he's dragging the whole boat behind him like an excited dog dragging his owner by the leash. The tulkun pulls the boat along for the ride until they get to another cluster of rocks poking out of the water, then swims around it until the boat is helplessly skimming toward its doom. The boat crashes and briefly floats in the air along with any crew member on board who had quickly grabbed a hold of something, before diving back into the water. The boat is miraculously still afloat, bobbing up and down in waves as the chaos subsides for now. The vessel looked as though it was floating dead in the water, with no engine or noise coming from its hull. The harpoon launcher was reloaded as they waited, looking around for any sight of the tulkun. 

Payakan repeated his maneuver and breached the water, cable still in his mouth, as he lept over the small boat. The cable now wrapped securely around the boat, Payakan gave a quick tug until the cable dug into the metal of the boat and then began to sink deeper and deeper. The crew scrambles to duck down just as the cable comes crashing through, cutting everything in its path until it catches onto the harpoon launcher, a crewmate's arm caught right in between them. 

Kayla was flying around Payakan's whereabouts and winced just as the cable cut through the man's arm and harpoon launcher, sending both flying and then crashing into the ocean below along with the severed arm. Kayla then dives down to finish off the survivors, aiming then firing at any humans that pose a threat. She spares one man among the wreckage, however, as he clearly appears to be a scientist, not a soldier. She could afford to spare one man to go crawling back to Ardmore and relay his horrific stories... but she wouldn't feel the loss if another Na'vi decided to finish him off instead. 

~~~~~~~~~

The sky slowly turned dark as eclipse rolled around, the fires from prior explosives the only thing lighting up the war zone that transpired, turning everything red and orange in its wake. It was like a waking nightmare, a sky full of smoke and pollution, taken out of a dystopian novel. The eery silence was only filled by flickering fire, with no signs of Na'vi or man in sight. Both had mysteriously disappeared.  

Kayla had looped around the battlefield several times already, trying to pinpoint any danger or sign of a familiar face. There were a lot of floating bodies and debris, empty boats with blood dripping down. It looked unnerving as they began to float away, with no sign of life on board. 

There's a distance splash and Kayla reflectively turned in the direction she heard it. There's an outline of a Na'vi jumping off the back of his tsurak and walking along a face of rocks, soft waves of water lapping over the surface and giving off the illusion that he was walking on water. Thena lowered from the sky until Kayla managed to depict certain characteristics and instantly recognized the Na'vi man, "Jake!"

Jake looked up at the sound of his name and noticed an ikran land on the rocks, huffing from exhaustion as its rider disengaged, running toward him. A small wave of relief encompasses Toruk Makto at the sight of his sister, "Kayla! Hey--"

"'You alright?" She immediately asked upon reaching him, her eyes briefly looking for any injuries.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

There's a distant splash resembling a breach in the water, causing the older Sully siblings to turn at the noise. Immediately, Kayla's stomach falls at the sight. It was like a waking nightmare for Jake, watching a small group of teenagers come rolling onto the shore of the rock face he and Kayla had landed on. Quickly, he noticed something was wrong, running over as Lo'ak waved him down.

"Dad! Dad, help! It's Neteyam!"

Tsireya briefly closes her eyes as a harsh wave smacks her in the face, ears drooping when listening to the sounds of Neteyam's rugged coughs. He was weak, and short of breath even though he had been an excellent student in her lessons on how to take large gulps of air for deep diving. It scared her, "Hurry!"

Lo'ak peers back at his brother before sinking into the water, dismounting his ilu and handing his brother to Tsireya, "Here, take him!"

Jake and Kayla proceed to rush over, eyes widening at the sight of the teens holding Neteyam above water as he sputters and coughs, one of which was not like the others and was the very same teenage boy Kayla had spent a long time searching for. The gasp she let out at the sight of a human boy among the Na'vi teens was from pure shock, "Spider?"

"Oh, no," Jake gasped as he took in the horrific sight of the half-drowned kids trying to pull his wounded firstborn to shore, blood pouring from his chest like the water he was floating in.

Lo'ak keeps repeating the same words through his fear, "It's Neteyam! He's hurt!"

Spider reaches out for Toruk Makto's arm as he grasps Neteyam's body, "Jake, come on! Come on!"

"Hurry, please!" Lo'ak begs.

Jake finally snaps out of his daze and grabs Spider's arm, trying to help drag all the connected teenagers to shore, "Pull!"

Kayla shakes herself from her shock and steps up to help, also grabbing onto Spider's arm and assisting her brother in pulling them all up out of the water.

"Bro, watch his head, watch his head!" Lo'ak instructs Spider, panic beginning to set in as he watches Neteyam's eyes begin to roll back, the older boy still coughing and otherwise unaware of his surroundings.

"Pull! Come on!" Jake grunts, finally getting all the kids out of the water. He grabs Neteyam's torso, lifting him in the air while Lo'ak and Spider have his sides and Tsireya has his legs, Kayla's hands hovering around the wounded boy's neck in case it rolls. Jake has them bring Neteyam to more solid ground before lowering him, "Just watch his head. Okay--"

Neteyam shallowly breathes as he feels the cold and wet rock surface underneath him, unable to suck in more air as Lo'ak grasps one of his hands, squeezing hard in comfort, "It's okay, bro. We got you."

Jake pushes Neteyam onto his side, immediately clocking the exit wound bleeding profusely with the help of Spider's flashlight, "Oh, no," looking around, frantic, he instead grabs Lo'ak's hands and presses it harshly against Neteyam's bleeding chest, "Put pressure-- put pressure on it!"

Neteyam stifles a grunt at the pressure against his chest, trying to get a word out, "Dad, I--"

"It's okay, I'm here!"

Kayla thinks quickly and rationally, stripping off her jacket, "Jake, the exit--"

"I know, I know!"

Without another word, Kayla has Lo'ak help her lift Neteyam until she has her rolled-up jacket pressed up against the exit wound behind him then lays him back down, helping Lo'ak continue putting pressure on the profusely bleeding hole in the older boy's chest. But she couldn't know how long Neteyam had been bleeding out. It was impossible to determine and her attempt to save him might be in vain. Kayla remains hovering over him, trying her best to conjure up a smile, "Hey, kiddo... it's alright, just take it easy. Remember to breathe..."

Neytiri lands her ikran when she spotted a few members of her family, barely pulling her braid from her mount before running over to the scene, muttering in fear and denial, "No, no, no, no, no!"

Kayla moves out of the way the moment Neteyam's mother arrives, surrendering her spot next to Lo'ak for Neytiri, and backs up, hovering over her brother's family and unable to look away.

"It's okay. It's okay, son, I gotcha." Jake comforted.

Lo'ak tries the same, "It's okay..."

Neteyam's eyes wildly looked around, unfocused and frightened, even when directed at Jake. It was like his son couldn't hear him, the shock setting Neteyam into panic mode as Jake tried to firmly reassure him.

Neteyam briefly looked relieved before tears started to gather in his eyes. Just this once, he allows himself to be a little boy again, tearful and sad, "I want to go home..." he grunts out his small plea before gasping rapidly, the words exhausting him.

Jake's voice quivers, holding his son's shoulder, "I know. I know. It's okay, we're goin' home. We're goin' home."

He softens his voice, pushing the desperation away to try and calm his son, as if he was still an infant he was soothing to sleep, "We're going home. It's okay, it's okay."

Neteyam gulps and tries to force the words out of his mouth, "Dad, I..."

His words are abruptly cut off, fading into the wind. The boy's eyes begin to unfocus and his body goes unnaturally stiff, rid of all muscle movement and heartbeat. Silence lingers over the Sully family as they wait for their son and brother to catch his breath, Neytiri gripping his hand tighter to get him to focus, "Neteyam..."

But there was no response. No breath, no words... nothing. Complete silence while Neteyam's eyes are permanently stuck watching the sky, unblinking and unfocused. Jake's heart plummets to his stomach, his breath escaping his lungs as he bows his head in distress. Neytiri's eyes flicker over her firstborn's face, over and over, frantic as she begins to rant, "No. No, no, no, Neteyam!" 

She begins to scream in anguish and denial, her voice shattering everyone's ears and hearts. Tsireya couldn't bear to look at her friend's body anymore and had to look away to cry, flinching at the sound of Neytiri's screams. Jake shushes his wife softly, reaching out to her but his touch goes unnoticed, as the mother desperately clings to any part of her dead son's body, trying to shake him awake. A single tear slips down Spider's face, collecting at the bottom of his mask, while Lo'ak begins to quietly sob, staring down at his hands, covered in his brother's blood. 

"Neteyam!" Neytiri sobs while leaning over her boy, holding his head close to hers as she wails, "Oh, Great Mother. No, Great Mother! Please! Oh, my son! My son... No!" 

Jake had gone completely numb, leaning back with his hands in his lap, eyes drifting off to somewhere distant while unable to comprehend the sight in front of him. Neytiri continues to sob and plead to anyone who will listen, her voice growing hoarse over time, "My son! No! No!"

Kayla silently stood over the Sully family, tears running down her face, but otherwise quiet to the world. Initially, she wanted to clench her hands into fists but immediately unfurled them again when she felt the squish and stick of her nephew's blood, to which she refused to look down and see for herself. She didn't want to see the color, nor what it represented... a young life taken from his family far too soon. 

"Can you hear me, Corporal?" Kayla's ears perk up to the southern drawl in her earpiece, and when her eyes flick to Jake, she notices his ears move to attention as well. Both Sully siblings felt cold as the voice dragged on, "Yeah, yeah, I think you can. I got your daughters. Same deal as before. You for them."

At the mention of the girls, Jake appears to wake out of his trance, turning his head to the direction of the hunting ship, then realization begins to creep in. His head slowly turns back to Lo'ak, his voice quiet as terror begins to settle in his chest, "Where are your sisters?"

His remaining son slowly peers up at him, eyes rimmed pink from crying, and his silence only angered Jake as he snapped his demands, "Your sisters. Where are they?"

"I don't know," Lo'ak whispered. 

"Where are they?!" Jake shouts.

"They're on the ship," Tsireya sobs quietly, her bottom lip quivering as Toruk Makto turns to her, "They are tied up on the ship."

"They're-- They're at the moon pool," whether it was out of grief, shock, or fear of Jake, Spider continued to stutter while the older man turned to him, holding onto the boy's arm as he spoke, "At-- A-At the well deck. Midships."

"What?" Jake asked, unable to make sense of the human boy's rambling. 

Spider sighs in defeat and then rises to his feet, grabbing onto Jake's arm and helping him stand up, "Come on. I'll show you. Come on. I'll show you."

Jake stumbled initially, the shock and adrenaline still coursing through him as Quaritch continued to speak through the radio, "Talk to me, Corporal. I need somethin', Jake or there's gonna be consequences."

"Yeah, I hear you," Jake responded as he pressed into the throat, sounding a little out of breath. He stumbles over to Kayla, ignoring the blood on her hands and gripping both of her arms as he speaks to her, his voice like gravel scrapping together, "Fly up ahead. Don't engage until I get into position. Lure the hostiles away while I grab the girls. Wait for my signal."

Kayla forced herself to nod, swallowing whatever broken cry threatened to come out as she whispered, "All right."

She forces herself to break out of Jake's hold, forcing herself to turn and walk away from the others, Neytiri's cries following her as she went. There's a small pool of water that collects on the rock surface and Kayla briefly kneels down to clean herself up, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again when she finally sees all the blood. She quickly stands back up, forming tsaheylu with Thena while hopping up onto her back, barely glancing back at what she assumes is the top of Neteyam's head of braids before rising into the sky and flying away.

Even though she could no longer hear Neytiri's cries from this distance, Kayla could still hear the horrific sounds in her head, following her as she rose higher into the sky. She uses the clouds and smoke for cover as she silently looms over what she knows is the location of the WIGE ship, using the scope of her rifle again to look down below to see what she is dealing with. The ship was slowly but surely beginning to sink, slightly tilted in the water, but the remaining Recoms and human soldiers on board were trying to balance out the weight but positioning themselves on one end, gathering their weapons and anxiously waiting for Jake's arrival. 

As she's waiting above, alone in her grieving silence, she's suddenly startled out of her daze when the earpiece kicks on again, and Quaritch's voice seeps through, "Talk to me, Corporal. This ship's going down and your girls with it... Your boy didn't have to die. You brought that on yourself. You thought you could keep your family safe, but you can't. Only one way to keep them safe. So let's get this over with before you lose another kid."

Thena mewls quietly when feeling the blood-boiling rage through her bond with Kayla, the avatar's grip tightening on the reins of her ikran. Flashes of the many ways she could kill Quaritch play in Kayla's head like a movie, deep and dark thoughts she would never voice out loud unless she'd risk scaring the people she loved around her. Back on Earth, she would've immediately been sent to a shrink or a psychiatric hospital for voicing her murderous thoughts and she didn't want to risk finding out what would happen if she did so here on Pandora. 

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off, however, by the loud sound of an explosion going off on the upper decks of the WIGE ship. While Kayla was waiting in her dark mind, Jake was below, sneaking onto the ship along with Spider. As Quaritch was monologuing, Jake had taken a grenade and lodged it into a gunship that Neytiri had shot down earlier, the wreckage now resting on the top of the WIGE ship. Jake quickly ran back to Spider and shouted for him to take cover, right before the gunship exploded into fire and debris.

Kayla watched the explosion bloom into smoke before she finally flew down, knowing that was the signal. She uses that smoke as cover, flying down through it to remain unseen to the RDA goons. The fires were blinding the humans, scrambling away from the flames or diving in to save anyone who survived the initial explosion. At the moment, everyone was distracted, and it was this perfect distraction that the Sully adults used to their advantage, striking the Sky People while they were down. Jake leaped in and immediately took out a human and a Recom by impaling them with a Metkayina spear. He wasn't able to take the weapon with him as it lodged completely through the body of the Recom, so Jake quickly took his AK out and began firing at nearby soldiers once they began to notice his presence. 

At the sound of gunfire, Kayla and Neytiri swoop into action, flying down from opposite ends of the ship, and surrounding the Sky People. Neytiri lands in a front-ward roll before skilfully aiming and firing her bow and arrow, immediately lodging said arrow into the leg of a female Recom. While the enemy avatar is distracted, Neytiri picks off the two humans who were covering the Recom's six. Neytiri raises the last human male up and shoots an arrow through his body and into the female Recom's skull before she can further react. Neytiri scrambles to retrieve her arrows once all immediate enemies are dead just as Jake approaches with his gun in his arms, keeping an eye out while his wife collects her ammunition. 

"Clear," he announces to her, expertly looking around to spot more enemies.

Meanwhile, Kayla has landed on a different end of the ship, and Thena flies away. One Recom, bald and sporting tattoos with a patch on his vest that read L. WAINFLEET, immediately noticed her and shouted to the top of his lungs while aiming his gun in her direction, "We got another avatar!"

He and other humans begin to open fire, while Kayla immediately ducks for cover. Jake had climbed up onto the upper levels of the ship as this began to transpire and used the distraction to attack the RDA soldiers who were firing down at his sister from their high ground. He killed and flung their bodies down from the catwalk, the height surely killing their small and frail bodies. Wainfleet noticed the sky was raining bodies and briefly stopped firing to look up before his eyes widened and he immediately moved his gun sights onto Jake, "Eyes up!"

The human soldiers follow his order and begin to raise and fire up at Jake. Kayla uses this distraction to come back out of hiding and, with their backs turned, she immediately begins to open fire on the Sky People, expertly shooting most of them in the back of the head or top of the spine.

Neytiri throws herself into the fray, leaping down the flight of stairs leading down to the lower deck of the ship. She dives for cover as Quaritch and other Sky People take notice of her and open fire. Wainfleet and any Sky People that managed to escape Kayla's cascade of bullets try to surround Neytiri, moving up slowly to her hiding place as she continues through her murder spree. She manages to get above and behind the humans trying to get around and corner her, jumping down behind Wainfleet before disarming him and knocking him out when she swings her bow into his face. Out of arrows, Neytiri readies her bow to swing again and hides, waiting for the remaining soldiers to come find her. 

Jake continued to be her eyes from above, shooting down at the soldiers below once they got too close to Neytiri's hiding spot. She comes out of hiding once her husband kills her remaining pursuers and rushes to grab any nearby stray arrows. Meanwhile, Kayla is pushing the remaining soldiers forward, shooting her AK into the fray and drawing them back. Little did the humans realize that Kayla had pushed them toward Jake and Neytiri in their rush to fall back away from Kayla's barrage of attacks. Jake jumps down once Kayla has their prey clustered close together and begins picking them off one by one. He lifts humans into the air and throws them into Recoms. He chucks empty rifles into RDA masks, causing the masks to shatter and the humans to suffocate while he moves forward with his tomahawk in hand. Kayla appears on the other side of the surrounded Sky People, completely cornering them into the blood bath. Once her section was cleared of hostiles, she moved further up to the highest point of the ship to provide support for Jake and Neytiri from above.

Neytiri shoots arrows at those who manage to break off and run away from Jake. Once out of arrows once more, she dives for one that was lodged into a dead body nearby, struggling with it as it got stuck. Meanwhile, Wainfleet had woken up behind her, face bleeding as he scrambled to reload his rifle. Neytiri had managed to get her arrow loose of the body and was about to aim and finish the Recom off before Jake appeared out of nowhere, attacking Wainfleet head-on and obstructing a clear shot for Neytiri to take.

"Ma Jake!" 

While the two male avatars fight in close combat, more soldiers try to get around them. With her husband preoccupied, Neytiri covers him and fires her already-loaded arrow into one of the soldiers, killing him instantly. Behind the body was a clear view of Kiri and Tuk, cuffed to the center railing of the ship, just like what Spider had said. 

With their daughters close at hand, Jake and Neytiri move in, now acting like a frantic couple of animals as the threat of their young is further imminent. Kayla provides backup support, knowing better to stay out of the parents' way, and empties her AK onto anyone below who is trying to subdue Jake and Neytiri, but through the smoke and flashes of gunfire, Kayla quickly loses sight of Na'vi pair, and the ground level grows eerily silent once there are no more soldiers to kill. Deciding to get closer to Kiri and Tuk's position, Kayla slowly and quietly makes her way back down, not wanting to make her presence known. She climbs down onto some gunship wreckage, not yet on the ground level once she spots the back of Jake's head. Getting a closer look, she realized Jake was weaponless, hands open in defeat.

Little Tuk was standing behind her father, shivering in fear, while in front of them stood Quaritch, his knife pressed tightly against Kiri's throat. At least, Kayla could only assume it was Quaritch, faintly seeing his name on the patch of his vest. They were all at a standstill, and when Kayla immediately jumped down to help, Jake threw his arm out for her to stay back, "Don't move!" He begged.

Quaritch keeps Kiri in front of him, using the teenager as a shield as he bares his fangs at Kayla upon her arrival, "Weapons down, now!"

"Do what he says." Jake sternly tells his sister. Kayla hesitates, eyes flicking between him and Kiri, then at Quaritch's knife that had already made small red cuts into her older niece's neck. Slowly, the female avatar sets down her gun and kicks it away, tossing her remaining ammunition over her shoulder before raising her arms up where the colonel can see them.

Satisfied, Quaritch quickly digs into his vest pocket and pulls out orange slap cuffs, tossing them onto the ground at Jake's feet as he snarls, "Cuff yourself."

"No!" A voice from behind Quaritch begged just as Jake was kneeling down to grab the cuffs. Everyone looked up to notice that the voice belonged to Spider, the human teen running around to get into Quaritch's line of sight, "No, don't hurt her, okay? Don't--"

"Stand there!" Quaritch roared, pointing a threatening finger at the boy while he kept Kiri in place with the knife against her neck.

"Spider, stay back!" Kayla yells out of fear, surprising even herself when her voice sounds stern.

Tuk softly cried while leaning back into her aunt's legs when Kayla drew close to the child, Jake firmly keeping his sister and his youngest child behind him, "Don't..."

"Don't. Move. Not a step," Quaritch threatens Spider before turning back to Jake, "Cuffs. On. Now!"

"You son of a bitch." Jake forces out through his anger and fear, slapping one side of the cuffs onto his wrist.

"Please, don't hurt her." Spider continues to beg.

Out of nowhere, Neytiri creeps up behind the human boy and retrieves her knife, grabbing hold of Spider and pressing her knife against his own neck with a snarl. Quaritch is startled at the sight, proceeding to hold Kiri tighter while looking between the boy and Neytiri.

The Na'vi woman's voice sounded so unlike her, hoarse and breathless, "Release. Or I cut."

Quaritch paused before trying to play off the threat, shaking his head, "What, you think I care about some kid? He's not mine. We're not even the same species."

"Just please don't-- don't hurt her," Spider continues to beg, ignoring his own life in exchange for Kiri's as he continues to plead to the man who holds the memories of his father, "Just please let her go."

"Don't!" Tuk continues to cry quietly, while Kayla holds the little girl's head against her. Both hers and Jake's ears and eyes flicked to whoever talked during the whole hostage situation, unable to move and feeling helpless.

"Please!"

"Don't kill him--" Kiri had begun to beg as well.

"Listen to me! Let her go. Don't hurt her."

"Mom, don't kill him."

"A son for a son." Neytiri shakily growls, tilting her head in Quaritch's direction as if studying him. She looked completely unhinged, sweat and human blood scattered all around her face and body, shrunken yellow eyes staring only at Quaritch.

"Neytiri, don't!" Kayla begs, holding Tuk close for protection and comfort, "Please!"

"Please don't hurt her," Spider continues to ramble until Neytiri takes her knife and slices the blade tightly over his chest, drawing small beads of blood, "Ah!"

"I cut," Neytiri hissed, flashing the blood on her knife to let Quaritch know she meant business. 

Spider huffs in pain and grits his teeth, but he goes right back to begging, "Please just let her go, okay? Just let her go."

Quaritch and Neytiri stare down at one another, unblinking until Neytiri screams in rage and raises her knife up to cut down Spider. Barely anyone had time to react, apart from Quaritch, as he quickly pulled his knife away from Kiri, "NO!"

Kiri gasped only to realize that she wasn't in any more danger, calming her heartbeat as the relieved tears began to well up. A scream that threatened to climb out of Kayla's throat suddenly subsided, and she held her breath while waiting for Neytiri's reaction. The air is thick and tense, both knives raised in the air either to destroy or spare. Neytiri slowly looks back at Quaritch, breathing heavily as she waits, keeping her knife posed and her grip on Spider. Quaritch grunts in defeat, pushing Kiri away and stepping back. Kiri immediately gets to her feet as Jake, Kayla, and Tuk inch closer to her, the younger girl whispering reassurances for herself and her sister, "Kiri... Kiri. Kiri."

Neytiri watches her family reunite with one another before slowly lowering the knife back down, then pointedly shoves Spider behind her, away from Quaritch.

"Spider!" Kiri exclaims as she, Tuk, and Kayla run to him.

Jake slowly approaches Neytiri while they're occupied, taking the knife out of his wife's hand and keeping an eye on Quaritch, "Spider, get 'em outta here."

Without hesitation, Spider began to tug on Kiri's arm, pulling her toward the ocean that was slowly creeping onto the tilting ship, "Come on. Guys-- Tuk."

"I owe you a death," Quaritch points directly at Neytiri, who snarls ferociously back at him with pure hatred in her eyes. 

"Mom," Kiri calls out, while Tuk begins to tug on her mother's arm.

"Mama."

"Come."

"Come on. Please, Mama."

Neytiri finally relents with her daughters' pleading, slowly backing up, inching toward the water. Jake keeps himself between Quaritch and his family, Kayla standing dutifully at his side while the children and Neytiri sink into the water. Quaritch keeps his knife in front of him, at the ready, acting like a cornered tiger while trying to bait Jake into staying, "You're not leaving, are you, Jake?"

"It's okay--" Kiri reassures Tuk as she and Neytiri draw closer.

"Knowin' I'm out there?" Quaritch continues.

"Kayla, back up," Jake muttered warningly, and his sister slowly sank into the water to join the others behind him. 

"Knowin' that I'll never stop?" Quaritch seethed, his voice lowering now that it was only him and Jake still standing on the sinking deck of the ship, "I'm comin' for you. And when I do, I'll kill your whole family."

The water laps at Kiri's face as she sinks into the water, worry in her eyes while watching Jake stand still, no longer moving to join them, "Dad..."

Jake's body stiffens as if his mind had been made up about something, eyes focused only on Quaritch as he stands up straighter, "Then let's get it done."

"Jake, no!" Kayla yells just as Jake leaps for a nearby medkit at the same time Quaritch dives toward him. Jake swings the medkit and hits the Recom with it, momentarily stunning the colonel as he goes in for another attack, this time with the knife he took from Neytiri. He swings at Quaritch several times, closely missing his neck before finally getting a slice at his vest. As the ship continues to tilt and sink, crates and other debris slide down toward the fighting pair and both Jake and Quaritch have to move out of the way to avoid getting hit before moving back in for the kill. They grapple and wrestle for each other's knives, trying to shove the sharp tip into each other's skulls.

"Jake!" Neytiri calls out to her mate just as a burst of flame begins to spread over the water where coolant and oil had spilled into the ocean. The wall of flame grows and begins to inch closer toward the Na'vi and the human boy floating just above the water's surface.

"It's coming!" Tuk cries.

"Back. Back!" Spider orders to the girls, beginning to tread water back the way they came, "Get back to the ship! Go!"

"Tuk, swim. Swim!" Kiri instructs hurriedly. 

Kayla, who was the last to get into the water, was now the first one out, grabbing onto the others one by one and pulling them back up onto the deck, starting with Tuk and ending with Spider as he made sure the others made it on first. Kayla continued to push the whole group ahead of her, occasionally looking around to see if Jake and Quaritch were still nearby, but she had lost sight of them. 

And she wasn't the only one. Neytiri was also frantically looking around, fear in her eyes while clinging on tightly to Tuk's hand, "Jake--"

"I'll get him, go!" Kayla exclaims in a last-second decision, backing away from the group and breaking off while shouting at Neytiri from over her shoulder, "Get the kids outta here, we'll come find ya!"

Kayla then turns to look ahead of her as she runs, determination setting in as she goes over to where she last saw her brother. She hears grunts and growls in the distance and doesn't hesitate to sprint over just in time to see Quaritch kick Jake in the gut to disengage from their knife wrestle. Jake doesn't have time to react as a motor or a generator of some sort comes sliding down toward him and shoves him into the water. 

Quaritch stalks over to the place Jake disappeared, knife glinting off of the flames of destruction around him. The Recom's muscles flex as he pants heavily with adrenaline, and with his back turned to Kayla, she makes a split and reckless decision. Unarmed, she leaps over sliding debris and then uses that momentum to jump up onto Quaritch's back with a small war cry, the both of them grunting at the impact while Kayla doesn't waste time to reach for and grapple for the knife in the colonel's hand. Quaritch growls and pitches Kayla forward off of his back, only for his grip to loosen around his knife and fall right into her hand. The female avatar stands up straight, quickly repositioning the blade more securely in her grip before charging forward, swinging in the air in front of Quaritch as he continuously dodges and leans away from the knife.

Eventually, he sidesteps and grabs her swinging arm, stopping the blade in its tracks before twisting her arm into an uncomfortable position. She cries out, forced to drop the blade before taking her other arm and elbowing Quaritch in the face. He staggers back with a pained grunt, then reaches for her arm again. He slams her against the rigging, driving her to take a gasp of air and regain her footing. A feat that was proven useless when Quaritch quickly grabbed the knife on the ground and reached forward, grabbing Kayla's kuru braid at the very base, connected to her skull. He yanked, hard, driving Kayla to scream in pain, the action rendering her immobile. He keeps her braid tight in one hand while the other retrieves his knife and is sure to let her know he means business when he presses the sharp blade to her throat. Kayla reduced her struggle to a minimum as she felt a small trickle of blood run down her long neck along with her sweat.

Quaritch grits his teeth and through the struggle, manages a small, gritted smile, "You're a newer model. You must be the little missing guinea pig the General was talking about."

She hissed, baring her fangs to the best of her ability, making the intimidating sound from the back of her throat, only cutting the sound off when Quaritch tugged painfully against her braid. Kayla gulped back air and frantically reached back for her queue at the base, trying to relieve his grip on such a sensitive part, following the motion to be sure the kuru wasn't torn from her skull. The movement brings Quaritch's attention to a certain item dangling from her neck.

Her RDA military tags, clinked softly together, proudly bearing her rank and station. Quaritch sees the name, so familiar that causes both dread and rage to eat him up from the inside out. He snarls, the fangs forming a cold, threatening smile, "Well I'll be damned... betrayal must run in the family."

Kayla nearly lunged at him before she felt a twitch in the knife and her body immediately stiffened, the cold blade digging further into her skin. She could see the male avatar's whole form tightening, preparing to use his strength to give the killing the blow. Quaritch's grip on her braid and his knife tighten and he's ready to just end her with the flick of his wrist.

"NO!" Is the only gutwrenching warning Jake gives either of them before he tackles Quaritch, shoving his whole body into the colonel's torso like a football player. The impact drives the older man to grunt in pain and also let go of Kayla, but the force of the tackle sends her falling backward, stumbling over the railing. Kayla is thrown overboard and sent falling into the ocean, where her screams forming her brother's name are drowned out by the water consuming her.

Unable to take a breath in before she hit the water, Kayla struggled to get air. She quickly swims up to the surface and manages to gulp out a breath or two when she breaches, but the moment is cut short when she realizes that the tipping ship was throwing debris off the side of the hull down into the ocean and onto her. Kayla instinctively holds her breath, properly this time, and dives back down into the water in an attempt to avoid the collision. Heavy machinery and other objects from the ship are falling quickly through the water around her like a knife through butter, too heavy to stay afloat. She narrowly misses as much debris as possible, trying to swim away as fast as she can, but she gets caught but a large piece of shipwreck that had broken off from the initial boat. It's heavy enough to drag her down, deep into the dark depths until the bioluminescent lights of the coral reef below light her surroundings, the glow of the fire and eclipse above the ocean's surface faintly disappearing the deeper she got dragged down. Her arms burned in exhaustion as she tried her best to pull and swim herself out from under the debris, but it was too heavy and sinking too fast, and her foot and gotten caught in a shredded hole wedged inside the metal. 

Against all that she had learned, Kayla began to panic, her heart racing while she frantically looked around to the best of her ability. Because of this, the need for air came quicker, and her lungs began to burn and try to constrict. Pressure began to build in her skull and chest, and dark spots started to form in the corners of her vision. The creaking of metal fills her ears as Kayla's arms finally stop fighting, too tired and weak to continue to try. With her mind now foggy and devoid of logic due to lack of oxygen, Kayla opened her mouth and took in a breath.

Just as the water rushed through her mouth and entered her lungs, a sharp tug on her foot had wrenched her free. Whatever was wrapped around her ankle now rose to wrap around her waist, and distantly, Kayla felt herself being pulled against a solid form as they swam through the water. Barely gaining the strength to look up, she faintly realized she was quickly rising to the surface.

The moment her face is free from the water, she takes big gulps of air, coughing seaspray from her lungs as she's pulled up onto a tsurak without much of a struggle, laying across its strong back and part of its head as she catches her breath. The strong arm secure around her torso was heavily tattooed and clearly Metkayina, the limb letting her go once she remembered to hold herself up out of the water. Between breaths, she takes a moment to glance up and lets her body relax at the sight of Tonowari, sitting calmly on the saddle of the skimwing.

The olo'eyktan appeared grim at the sight of her, silently urging her to cough up the water with a hand gently placed on the back of her neck. Kayla winced when the initial touch was sore from where her queue braid had been tugged, and so Tonowari drew his hand away, instead tilting her chin up to inspect the cut on her neck, small trickles of blood flowing down her skin.

"Are you injured?"

"I'm fine." Kayla managed to spit out as she pulled her chin from his grasp, ignoring the sharp pain in her foot. She began wildly looking around and immediately spotted Ronal and her tsurak floating beside them. Closely watching Kayla, the tsahik's big eyes briefly glanced down at the neck wound her mate was inspecting on the avatar.

Satisfied by the answer, Tonowari instructs Kayla to lean against him so he can reach the handlebar of his tsurak, adjusting her until she's properly straddling the back of the powerful lungfish. Still a little dazed and recovering, Kayla doesn't fight being puppeteered as the tsurak begins to move in the direction its rider wanted to go. Kayla tiredly looked around, freezing in fear when she noticed the WIGE ship was barely peeking out of the water now, and she could do nothing but watch as it slowly disappeared, into the ocean, leaving nothing behind but large bubbles and ripples along with the groaning of metal.

It was only when Kayla realized that she was being led away from the location of the sunken ship did she begin to struggle, startling the skimwing and irritating the chieftain. Tonowari grips the handle of the tsurak with one hand but makes a point to restrain Kayla with the other, wrapping his whole arm around her torso again as she starts to protest loudly, "No! NO! My family's still in there! They're still down there, stop!"

"You will do them no good if you drown before you can get to them!" Tonowari snapped.

Ronal blocked the path of her husband's tsurak with her own, looking dead in Kayla's eyes with ferocious determination and fear, not willing to look away, "My daughter-- where is she?!"

Briefly stunned with the adrenaline slowly wearing off, Kayla sputtered for a moment, catching her breath while stuttering out, "On... On that rock face over there."

She points in the general direction where the dreading idea of Neteyam's body now lay, but neither Ronal nor Tonowari notice the look of defeat and grief on her face. Looking back at the ship, she couldn't help the tears falling down her face as she quietly whispered, "I'll take you to her."

They idly swam in silence, and it felt as though the world was ending. They swam past floating bodies and debris, empty boats, and life jackets. The sky was still red along with the scattering ocean of flames and smoke. The smell was almost unbearable. It was the longest silence in Kayla's life, her only thoughts on the whereabouts of her brother and his family. Had they gotten off the ship? Are they safe? Where was Quaritch? 

Tsireya had spotted them in the water before the three Na'vi adults spotted her, crying and waving them over to the stranded rock fixture she stood on, her knees covered in blood, but not her own, "Sa'nok! Sempul!"

Kayla was immediately forgotten as both Ronal and Tonowari hopped off their skimwings and scrambled up onto the rock fixture, rushing toward their daughter. Ronal instantly gathered the crying girl in her arms, a little difficult with her rounded belly, but she had managed while whispering into her hair with relief in her voice, "Tsireya... Thank you, Great Mother, thank you."

Tonowari joins the embrace, wrapping his long arms around his wife and child. A soft yip in the wind draws the olo'eyktan's attention away, and upon looking around, he catches sight of two reef boys astride ilu. The boys call out again before jumping up onto the rock face. It was Ao'nung and Rotxo, both unharmed and a little frazzled. Ao'nung raced to his family and his father pulled him into their group embrace, relief now fully flooding the family's veins. 

Rotxo stood just outside of the family, his eyes only set on one thing lying on the ground, dread seeping into his skin as his breath was taken from him, "Neteyam...?"

Tsireya only cried harder at the sound of his name, and when her parents and brother turned to what Rotxo was looking at, they came across a horrific sight. Their joy and relief were shortly outlived and exchanged for sorrow as they observed Neteyam's corpse, unmoving and now cradled in Kayla's arms. She was kneeling before her nephew's body, holding his torso up on her lap with her arms wrapped protectively around his head. She was crying silently to herself, sobbing so softly that none of the Metkayina standing before her could hear it over the wind and waves. Kayla was short of breath for an entirely different reason, her body shaking as the shock wore off and the realization sunk in.

Her nephew was dead, and for all she knew, so was the rest of her family.

The sunlight finally reemerged beyond the eclipse, the fires no longer setting a dreadful horizon. Kayla didn't care for the sunlight, her stomach turning when Neteyam's blood only became more noticeable. She was cold, wet, and exhausted, the adrenaline turned to full-body shakes up and down her spine. She didn't want to move, keeping her eyes shut so she could pretend that she was simply hugging Neteyam, but it was hard to do so when Neteyam felt so cold and stiff.

A large bellow is heard from the water as something big swims up to the rock fixture. Kayla remembers Payakan and looks up, tear tracks marking down both of her cheeks. Another wave of emotions took over her when she noticed that the rest of the Sullys were all hanging onto Payakan's fin, climbing tiredly up the rock fixture once they got close enough. 

"Auntie!" Tuk cried when she first spotted Kayla, rushing over to her aunt. Kayla immediately set Neteyam down and tried her best to shield the girl from such a sight as she gathered the child up in her arms.

Kayla cried loudly, out of relief, holding onto Tuk tightly as if there was no tomorrow. Taking deep breaths through her sobs, she quickly looks around to take a headcount, quickly finding the remaining of the Sullys standing around her. Jake, Neytiri, Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tuk. All safe, all unharmed. Kiri runs up to join the group hug while Tsireya breaks away from her family to run into Lo'ak's arms. Jake and Neytiri pay no mind to anyone else, tired and distant both physically and emotionally. Neytiri simply walked back over to Neteyam, kneeling down and pulling her child into her arms as fresh tears began to cut down her face. Kayla finally lets her nieces go and gently leads them over to Neteyam, stepping away so the girls have their own time to grieve. After a while, Jake takes out a knife and goes around cutting away any remnants of orange slap cuffs still hanging off of anyone's arms and wrists. He cuts them off of himself, then Lo'ak, then Tsireya, and begins to cut the cuffs off both of Kiri's wrists. He doesn't want to take Tuk away from her big brother just yet, as the little girl cries into Neteyam's hand, holding the limb to her chest for just a little bit of comfort.

Another figure approaches, seemingly out of thin air, but only because he had just swam up to them. Kiri is the first to spot him, a relieved smile spreading over her face, "Monkey Boy!"

For the most part, everyone looks up to notice Spider, walking up to them unharmed apart from the long, thin cut across his chest. Jake stands up and puts his knife away, while Kayla watches the boy closely, looking for any signs of distress. But Spider was breathing perfectly through the mask, tired but otherwise intact.

Lo'ak gently breaks away from Tsireya to further observe his friend, likely also trying to see if he was injured, "Spider."

Ronal and Tonowari catch the name and glance at one another. So this was the sky demon boy affiliated with the Sullys. Kiri reached up to him from where she was sitting once he got close enough, placing her hand over Spider's heart. He looked down at her, equally solemn and relieved, reaching up to gently hold her hand. They smile faintly at one another before Jake interrupts to inspect the boy himself, placing his hands on Spider's shoulders.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."

Jake believes him and brings the human boy close in an embrace, looking around and then over to Lo'ak, seeing his son standing alone and looking ashamed. Immediately, Jake reaches an arm out and pulls Lo'ak into their group embrace, "Come here."

For the most part, Jake looked the worst out of all of them, bruised and slowly bleeding through small cuts and scrapes. They all stand or sit around, quietly taking in each other's presence and everything that just happened. Kayla finally felt as though she could sit down, slowly sinking to the ground until she was leaning back on her hands, properly regaining her breath, and trying to elevate her injured foot. Sighing now that pressure had been taken off her ankle, she looked around at everyone, the threat of danger still in the back of her mind, all the horror they had dealt with today now fully being comprehended in her mind. Looking over at Spider, she knows that she and Jake will have to question the boy and have him tell them everything that happened to him and how RDA had managed to find the Sullys. At the same time, they'll have to explain why they never went looking for him and offer their sincerest apologies. But for now, it'll have to wait. For now...

A son for a son.

A/N: Kinda not sorry. I love angst... no matter how much it hurts to write it. I definitely cried while writing this, but I really needed it cuz I haven't had a good cry in a while.

THERE'S GONNA BE MORE CHAPTERS AFTER THIS. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE FIC. I have future chapters already written out so keep an eye out for an update! I intend to stretch this fic out until the next film, but let's see how it goes lol. Lemme know if you want a request or want to be added to the taglist!

Rip Matthew Perry

The Way, 𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing. Original Female Character (Navi)/Recom Colonel Miles Quaritch

summary. The sky people are back and Navi imposters begin to invade the lands of Pandora.

warnings. violence, cussing, idk. i’ll be more thorough if this doesn’t flop. if this doesn’t flop, beware this is quaritch redemption fic.

A silence hung in the air as two figures crouched beneath the dense shrubs, concealed in the shadows of the forest. Out in the open, a fully grown yerik stood, its skin a dark blue, patterned with white and yellow stripes. Around its sloped scalp were its retractable fan structures, with their own patterns that resembled another pair of eyes to ward off predators. With its neck gracefully arched towards the forest floor, the yerik indulged in the flora it found to snack on, unaware of the danger lurking towards it. Suddenly, the sharp crack of a branch being broken jolted its attention back to its senses.

In an instant, its head jerked upwards, its fans retracting and bursting open in full bloom, while the rest of its body froze in alertness and possible fear. Diligently, its eyes scanned the area, searching for the source behind the noise, but were only met with shrubs, unaware of the figures hidden within them. With cautious steps, the yerik regains the confidence to continue eating.

Meanwhile, still concealed amidst the foliage, those two figures had their eyes fixated on the yerik with unwavering intensity. One was armed with a bow and a quiver that was brimming with arrows, while the other stood as silent encouragement, cautiously guiding the others' every move.

In a moment of uncertainty, a pair of brown eyes met a pair of green ones, their gazes locking in an unspoken connection. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a soft gleam emanated from the green eyes, instilling a newfound confidence within the owner of the brown eyes. With this surge of assurance, they prepared their bow.

A heavy silence settled between them. The air seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself recognized the weight of the moment. In this intense stillness, the pair of green eyes watches their companion with a tender fondness, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Pride blossomed within their chest as the other took a deep breath, their body aligning with precision and purpose. The brown-eyed archer exuded a quiet determination, ensuring that their posture and aim were flawless. And then, in a moment that seemed endless, the arrow was released, soaring through the air with a graceful purpose.

With a dull thump, the yerik falls to the ground, thrashing violently as it lands on its side. With only a few minutes until the adrenaline wears off until the creature can feel the pain of being pierced by the arrow, the two figures quickly make their way towards it.

In a swift motion, a young human boy with large brown eyes gently places his bow aside, reaching for a dagger that rested by his side. Kneeling beside the squirming beast, the boy speaks in a low voice, his tone gentle and genuine.

"Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo."

I see you, Brother, and I thank you.

"Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea,"

Your spirit will run with Eywa.

"Tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì."

While your body will remain and become part of the People.

With those words spoken, the boy takes his dagger to the creatures hidden heart and with focused determination, sinks his blade deeps into its chest. His eyes close, the words "thank you" and prayers of Eywa playing over and over again in his head as the creature finally succumbs to the darkness, it's spirit landing back into Eywa's welcoming arms.

As the creature draws it's last breath, the green-eyed observer's heart swelled with admiration, knowing that the young man had embraced his true potential in that single, decisive act.

A hand, tinted in a serene shade of blue and adorned with four fingers, gently extends itself over the boy's shoulder. He instinctively turns his head, his eyes meeting the gaze of the woman he cherished.

"You've accomplished a clean and respectful kill, my little warrior." The na'vi woman praised with a beaming smile adorning her lips, "Well done." She added, making sure her words pierced deeply into his heart, leaving no doubt about how proud she truly was.

"I see you, sa'nok." The boy expresses, his words carrying a deep sense of recognition and appreciation.

"And I see you, my son."

"Whoo!"

"Go, Monkey Boy!"

"Guys, wait up!"

The day is bright and warm, creating a comforting atmosphere for the four hyperactive children that ran along the heavy tree lines, jumping and flying through the air, effortlessly moving from one branch to the next. Making their way deeper into the forest, they remained close as they ran together and navigated the terrain. Their apparent bond showed through their adventure as they all smiled and laughed with one another. As the four of them continued on, one decided to stay behind for a bit to play with a wiggling plant.

"Tuk! Keep up!" Called Lo'ak.

"Okay, okay." Tuktirey, or Tuk, responded in an exaggerated breath.

Catching up with others, Tuk's steps fall right behind theirs again and they all traveled once more together as a group.

"Bro, why'd you bring her anyway?" Spider questions as he descended from a branch, landing skillfully on his feet.

The group naturally slows to a halt as Lo'ak goes to explain the presence of his youngest sister.

"She's such a crybaby," he complains. "She's all, 'I'm telling.' 'You're not supposed to go to the battlefield.' 'I'll tell mom if you don't let me come'" He adds, mimicking his baby sisters high-pitched voice.

"Don't pick on her," Kiri is quick to defend.

However, it seems that Tuk doesn't take Lo'ak's words to heart or is just too childish to care about her brother's teasing because all she does to retaliate is stick her tongue out at him.

With a roll of his eyes, Lo'ak begins running again, waving his arm for the others to follow, along with a "come on!"

A couple of minutes later, they come across something tangled within the branches and vines of the gathering trees.

"Oh, sick!" Spider exclaims with excitement as he gets closer to the battered aircraft.

"Are there any dead bodies up there?" Tuk's voice echoes as the two boys climb higher to investigate further.

As the three of them continue their playful exploration and examination of the human aircraft, Kiri ventures out on her own, heading deeper into the forest. She extends her arms out, relishing the feel of the different flowers and leaves caressing her skin, a smile of awe and amazement framing her lips.

Enchanted by the beautiful creations of Eywa, the presence of the others fades into the background as Kiri lies upon a patch of grass that appears to be breathing in harmony with her own. Comfortable in the embrace the grass offers, she is lulled into a trance-like state before falling into a peaceful sleep.

"Dude, your dad is gonna freak if he finds out about this," Spider playfully chides as he attempts to peek through the shattered window of the spaceship.

"What dad doesn't know won't kill him. Besides, lets not pretend your mom is any better." Lo'ak taunts back, his lips pulled up into a mischievous smirk.

Spider snorts at that remark, "At least she's cooler than your dad." He playfully jabs.

"My father is the Toruk Makto! No one is cooler than him." Lo'ak exclaims with pride, thumping a fist against his chest.

Amongst the conversation, Spider laughs, "Toruk Makto or not, my mother can still kick his ass any day of the week. And you know it too!"

Though it was very true that Spider's adoptive mother could take Jake down in a matter of seconds during combat, Lo'ak went on in his denial, whining about how it wasn't true, despite witnessing his father get his ass handed to his by his mother's cousin a numerous amount of times. Before Spider could get pulled further in by Lo'ak's antics, he veers off after noticing one of his friends missing.

Passing through the cascading plants, he stumbles upon a secluded patch of grass and nestled in the center of it lies Kiri, sleeping soundly as atokirina's from the Tree of Souls dances around her body. He quickly walks over to her, dropping to his knees at her side to shake her awake.

"Kiri, Kiri," he said her name persistently until her eyelids finally fluttered open, awakening her from sleep.

With a heavy body, she sluggishly rises and shifts her posture to meet Spider's gaze, weariness displayed across her face.

"I was doing that thing again, wasn't I?" Kiri asks solemnly, toned with self-awareness.

"Yeah, you were," Spider replies, his voice accompanied by a gentle swatting motion to push the seed that swayed around his face.

The gentle smile of Spider's face brightens the na'vi girl's spirit and for a moment, the two share a comforting silence, smiling at each other before Kiri's name is being called upon by her brother and sister.

The soft grin on Spider's face brightens the spirit of the na'vi girl. In that short moment, a comforting silence envelops them both, as they exchange smiles filled with solace. However, their tranquil few seconds are abruptly interrupted when Kiri's name is being called upon by her siblings.

"Kiri! Come on, we have to go!" Tuk exclaims urgently.

With Spider's gentle assistance, Kiri gracefully rises from the lush green grass and four of them begin their trek back home. With Lo'ak in the lead, they proceed along a sturdy tree trunk, their footsteps blending with the symphony of the forest. The rustling leaves and distant calls of wildlife surround them, creating a harmonious backdrop for their journey home. Until, Lo'ak noticed something imprinted in the mud.

Ignoring the question from his sister, he is followed by Spider to get a closer look tracks. The print resembles a foot of some kind, a two legged creature, but it was not from na'vi, as it seemed whoever left the footprints behind was wearing shoes. Humans?

"It's way to big for a human." Lo'ak informs before looking further along the path to see more footprints.

"Avatar?" Spider questions, his brown eyes swimming with concern, earning a distraught look from Lo'ak.

"Maybe, but they're for sure not ours."

With a piercing screech, the majestic ikran soared through the skies, its wings slicing through the air. The predominant hue of its skin was mostly a dark shade of green, with delicate traces of magenta and purple adorning certain areas, creating a captivating color scheme. Its eyes, on the other hand, gleamed with a mesmerizing golden hue, adding charm to its appearance.

It's rider, perched atop the creature's back, smiled contentedly while surveying her surroundings with tranquility. But her attention was pulled away from the peaceful views of her home when her name was called upon.

"Ayteya!"

The green eyes of the rider followed the sound of the voice, leading her gaze to another Na'vi woman gracefully perched atop her own ikran. A wide smile spread across the newcomer's face, mirroring the rider's joy. The connection between the two were evident as they skillfully maneuvered their ikrans around each other in a synchronized dance. Amidst the graceful movements, Ayteya called out to her cousin, her voice carrying a sense of familiarity and warmth.

"Your mate seems rather slow today, my dear cousin!" Ayteya's voice carried across the wind, laced with playful banter and affectionate teasing.

Neytiri glanced over her shoulder, ensuring the well-being of her mate, before turning her gaze back to Ayteya, a genuine smile gracing her features.

"He worries endlessly for our youngest children," Neytiri confided, her voice tinged with a mix of fondness and concern. "Despite my reassurances, he still mopes," she added, a hint of playfulness in her tone. The bond between them allowed for open conversation about their shared responsibilities and the quirks of Jake Sully.

Speaking of the mighty Toruk Makto, Jake finally catches up with his mate and cousin-in-law, wearing a slight pout on his face. "I don't mope!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness.

Ayteya couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response. "Of course, brother!" she retorted, playfully teasing him in return.

Just as Jake was about to respond, a resounding "whoop" pierced the air, capturing everyone's attention. Suddenly, like a streak of lightning, the eldest of the Sully children soared through the sky astride his ikran. A radiant smile adorned his face, mirroring the striking resemblance of both his parents.

"So, what is this I hear about Dad moping?" Neteyam inquires with an amused expression.

Ayteya and Neytiri burst into giggles, sharing a playful moment as Jake shoots his oldest son a deadpanned look, laced with a hint of mischief.

"Better watch yourself, kid," Jake jests, joining in on the playful banter.

Undeterred by the floating mountains that encircled them, the four continued their flight, their ikrans gracefully weaving around each other in perfect harmony. With nimble maneuvers, they skillfully swerved left and right, effortlessly avoiding the colossal obstacles that loomed in their path.

As Ayteya rode on her ikran, her thoughts drifted towards her only child, who was undoubtedly with the rest of the Sully children, causing trouble. Spider was a good and respectable boy. She had no worries that he would be on his best behavior. But with Lo'ak, who knew what those two could get themselves into. Memories of when Spider and Lo'ak were young swam through Ayteya's mind, causing a heartwarming smile to appear on her lips.

Though the two of them could get into some serious trouble, Ayteya was grateful that her son had such a strong friendship, not only with Lo'ak but also with the rest of the Sully children. Just then, the thought of Jake and Neytiri entered her thoughts and a small frown catered her lips. Jake was a loyal and kind Olo'eyktan, and it was no surprise that he welcomed Spider when hearing of the boys birth that occurred before the war amongst the sky people even began. After all, Jake Sully was born human. His sympathies towards Spider helped calm Ayteya's worries if something were to happen to her.

She knew that the great Toruk Makto would watch over her son if the need arose. It was his mate, and her dear cousin, that caused her stress.

Spider was a mere newborn after the war ended, a child created by the sky peoples deity, only to be born in the arms of Eywa. Raised among the Na'vi, he embraced their ways and cherished the village as if he shared the same blood as them. Ayteya knew of Neytiri's apprehension towards their adopted son and understood her guarded nature to a certain degree. However, it left her perplexed and uncertain in certain aspects.

In the depths of her heart, Ayteya held onto a glimmer of hope that, despite her perpetual confusion, Neytiri would safeguard Spider as if he were her own flesh and blood in case something were to happen to her.

Lost in her thoughts, Ayteya failed to notice as Jake's youngest son spoke through the comms that all the Sully's were provided with.

"Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye, over." echoed Lo'ak's voice through the small speaker.

Jake's finger instinctively pressed against the button on the collar encircling his neck, and he swiftly replied, "Eagle Eye, send your traffic."

In that moment, Neytiri clicked her tongue to grab her cousin's attention. Ayteya's gaze shifted towards Neytiri, who subtly nodded her head towards her mate. Ayteya's eyes then turned to Jake, her expression tinged with uncertainty.

"I got eyes on some guys." Ayteya could hear Lo'ak's voice crackling through the speaker. "They look like avatars, but they're in full camo and carrying ARs."

Ayteya glanced back and forth between Neytiri and Jake, the three of them exchanging indecipherable glances.

"There's six of them, over." Lo'ak finishes.

Ayteya could hear Jake asking where Lo'ak was located, but an unsettling silence hung in the air before the young boy finally responded to his father. His delay filled Ayteya with a sense of worry.

"We're at the old shack," Lo'ak informed nervously, causing Neytiri's and Ayteya's eyes to widen.

"Who's 'we'?" Jake asks sternly.

Lo'ak's voice faltered for a moment, his words hanging in the air, "Me, Spider-" The mere mention of her son sent a jolt through Ayteya's heart, causing it to momentarily freeze. "Kiri... And Tuk," he finally added, his voice filled with a mix of worry and shame.

As the name of their youngest is uttered, a flicker of uneasiness crossed Neytiri's eyes as she gasps quietly. Jakes eyes hardened as his he lowers his voice.

"Son," Jake's voice resonated with authority, "you listen to me very carefully." His words carried a sense of urgency. "You pull back right now. Do not make a sound."

The sound of Jake's instructions caused Ayteya's heart to quicken its pace. Her mind became consumed with thoughts of her beloved Spider, her precious son. Was he alright? Would he he be alright?

"You get the hell out of there." Jake's voice demanded, "Move, you copy?"

"Yes sir, moving out." Is all Lo'ak reply before cutting out.

A deafening silence hung in the air, broken only by the sudden appearance of Neteyam, who swiftly flew to the front of the group.

"Dad, I know a a quick way!" he exclaimed, his voice filled determination.

Ayteya wasted no time in following closely behind Neytiri and Jake as they soared through the air, trailing behind Neteyam. It was in this moment, as they flew in close proximity, that Ayteya became acutely aware of the approaching eclipse. The darkness loomed ominously, casting an eerie shadow over their path.

The time slipped away from Ayteya as worry consumed her and before she knew it, they reached their destination, guided by Neteyam's lead. The trio followed him to a halt, their ikrans gracefully landing on the side of a towering tree.

Ayteya swiftly patted her ikran on the side of its head, expressing her gratitude before disconnecting her tswin. Positioned at the side of her loyal companion, she reached for her bow and arrows, ensuring they were ready for use. She also made sure her daggers were securely fastened at her side, ready to be drawn if needed.

As Jake and Neytiri prepared themselves for the next move, Jake suddenly halted Neteyam from moving forward with them.

"No, no," Jake instructed firmly, his voice filled with concern. "You stay with the ikran." He emphasized, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

"But dad... I'm a warrior like you. I'm supposed to fight!" Neteyam argued, his voice filled with determination and a desire to prove himself.

"Neteyam..." Neytiri warns.

As the three continued their discussion, Ayteya stood a few feet ahead, her mind consumed by thoughts of Spider. Her heart ached with worry for her son, and her thoughts swirled with a mix of fear and determination. Despite understanding Jake's reasons for needing to have a conversation with his eldest, she couldn't help but feel that they were wasting precious time. However, just as irritation began to creep into her thoughts, Jake and Neytiri swiftly approached her.

Covering a mere half-mile on foot, they arrived at the children's location, only to find the sun had already disappeared and rain had started falling. Navigating through the dense undergrowth in the darkness, Ayteya and Neytiri inhaled the surrounding air. The unmistakable aroma of Spider's scent filled Ayteya's senses, momentarily calming her racing heart before her anxiety resurfaced. The presence of other unfamiliar scents were mixed into the air as well.

With simple hand gestures from Jake, the three all moved in different directions. While Neytiri went left and Jake went right, Ayteya moved straight ahead. Clutching her bow tightly, an arrow ready for release, she cautiously advanced, seeking refuge behind one of the many trees. Peering ahead, her gaze descended into the thick undergrowth, where she could see movement. In her line of sight and through the thicket of the rain, she spotted Tuk, her wrists bound tightly, held captive by someone that looked similar to the avatars that were allowed to to stay on Pandora.

Ayteya's heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell upon a sight that froze her in her tracks. Not far from Tuk was Kiri and Spider. Their wrists were tightly restrained and they too were being held by someone. Witnessing the Na'vi imposter's rough treatment of her son ignited a fiery rage within her.

Glancing to her left, Ayteya locked eyes with Neytiri, who offered a brief nod of acknowledgement, silently conveying their shared determination.

As Ayteya refocused her gaze on the scene below, Neytiri parted her lips, emitting a subtle yet powerful bird-like sound that resonated through the air.

Observing the flicker of recognition on the children's faces, Ayteya received a confirming nod from Neytiri. Emboldened, she parted her own lips, releasing a resonant bird-like call that echoed through the forest, blending in with the symphony of raindrops cascading around her.

In response to her call, Ayteya observed a glimmer of light in Spider's eyes. Within in him sparked hope, encouraging her to repeat her call again. She watched as Spider and Lo'ak shared a look before nodding towards each other. This was it.

Turning her gaze towards Neytiri, Ayteya found her cousin already poised with her bow, ready for action. Following her lead, Ayteya swiftly raised her own bow, her skilled eyes fixated on the imposter who held her son captive. With unwavering determination, she aimed her arrow, ready to strike with precision. She waited and waited until Neytiri finally made the first move.

Reacting swiftly, Ayteya released her arrow, watching as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy. The arrow found its mark, piercing the skull of who held Spider and Kiri against their will. As the imposter holding Tuk crumpled to the ground as well from Neytiri's arrow, the sudden turn of events unleashed chaos.

"Contact rear!" a voice growled, followed by another echoing the warning. In a swift response, the captives, armed with guns, unleashed a barrage of shots towards their assailants. The crackling sound of gunfire filled the air as Ayteya crouched down, shielding herself from the stray bullets that whizzed through the air.

"Lo'ak!" Neytiri's voice rang out, and in an instant, a dense fog-like smoke enveloped the surrounding area. The smoke billowed and swirled, obscuring the vision of their enemies and providing a shield of concealment.

With his sharp teeth, Lo'ak sank his fangs into the arms of his captor, freeing himself from their grasp. Ensuring Tuk was with him, they swiftly scampered away, seeking cover amidst the chaos. Spider and Kiri were already running away by then, and Ayteya's gaze followed them. Her heart clenched with a mix of fear and helplessness, but she steeled herself, readying her bow once more.

With a steady hand and unwavering focus, Ayteya released another arrow, watching as it found its mark, piercing the chest of another imposter. With another threat extinguished, Ayteya catches sight of Spider again, who helps guide Kiri away from the fight, ensuring her safety above all else.

'Great mother, please watch over the children.' she thinks before looking back at the fight.

In a fleeting instant, the relentless downpour of bullets comes to a halt, casting an eerie stillness upon the warring factions.

With her arrow poised, Ayteya casts a wary glance towards Neytiri, who returns her gaze with a hint of uncertainty. It's then, a voice, unfamiliar to Ayteya, speaks out.

"That you, Mrs. Sully?" The unknown male asks.

As confusion etches itself onto Ayteya's face, Neytiri's expression morphs into one of subtle horror, her features contorted by a chilling realization. The reaction of her cousin has Ayteya on edge as the male down below speaks again.

"I recognize your calling card." He says before pausing.

The next few moments are silent again, time seeming to stand still, prompting Ayteya to cautiously peer around the tree that shields her. But just as she does, the voice from before speaks again, causing her to quickly duck behind the tree.

"Why don't you come on out, Mrs. Sully." The voice taunts as he refers to Neytiri, "You and I... We've got some unfinished buisness."

Listening intently, Ayteya catches a glimpse of Spider and Kiri running farther from the fight, allowing her to lean back against the tree momentarily, carefully thanking Eywa.

Gazing back at her cousin once more, she observes the transformation of Neytiri's expression, as her face twists into a restrained fury.

"Demon!" Neytiri growls, "I will kill you as many times as I have to!" She adds, her voice dripping with venom.

The threat seems to go unnoticed, as the fake Na'vi taunts, "It seems you and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven't you? Dropped yourself a whole litter of half-breeds."

Ayteya's attention is abruptly drawn to the sound of a branch snapping. As she turns her head, her eyes widen in horror as the barrel of a gun is aimed directly at her face. The imposter behind the weapon smirks with malicious intent, relishing in the power he holds. However, before his finger can tighten around the trigger, an arrow pierces through his chest. He crumples to the ground lifeless, but Ayteya's focus remains fixed on Neteyam, who still stands in a shooter's stance.

"Na'vi!" A voice, different from the one that was speaking, shouts. Just as Neteyam attempts to prepare another arrow, a hail of bullets comes hurtling towards them.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Jake comes charging in, swiftly pushing his son out of harm's way. He then grabs Ayteya by the arm, forcefully pulling her away from the imminent danger and the three begin to run.

"Move!" Jake yells, "Go, go, go!"

He pushes Neteyam ahead and then Ayteya as bullets spray around them. As Ayteya moves to find cover behind another tree, the other two do the same.

"You okay, boy?!" Jake asks, receiving a swift "yeah" in response from Neteyam.

Ayteya can sense Jake silently asking her the same question with his eyes, to which she nods in affirmation. He gives her a nod back before speaking to both of them.

"Okay, with me! Ready?" Jake instructs, earning a nod from the two of them.

As the barrage of bullets finally ceases, Jake swiftly emerges from his hiding spot behind the tree and retaliates with his own shots. Simultaneously, Ayteya, positioned behind her own tree, releases an arrow with precision. Another round of bullets erupted and in the midst of the chaos, Jake urgently shouts at them to move, urging them to move to safety.

They all resume running, but as Ayteya leaps over a fallen tree, a searing sensation pierces her side. The impact of a bullet jolts her body, causing her to collapse to the ground.

"Ayteya!" she hears Neteyam's desperate shout.

"Run, boy!" she manages to shout back, but Jake leaves no room for hesitation and forcefully pushes Neteyam further away. As Ayteya attempts to rise, she slips in the muddy terrain and stumbles down a steep hill. Despite the pain coursing through her side, she fights to regain her balance, eventually clutching onto a sturdy vine.

"Ayteya!" she hears her name being called once more, this time by Jake.

"Focus on the children! Keep them safe!" she yells through a strained voice, her hand firmly pressed against the spot where the bullet struck her.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Ayteya takes a deep, painful breath and summons every ounce of strength within her. Gripping tightly onto the vine in her hand, she musters the determination to pull herself upright, despite the searing pain that radiates through her body. Letting out a pained growl, Ayteya shakes her head vigorously from side to side, attempting to alleviate the pounding sensation in her head and regain control of her blurred vision.

Despite her swaying eyesight, Ayteya begins to move her feet, placing one carefully in front of the other. The rain pouring down adds to her challenge, but with each step, she focuses on finding her balance and establishing a steady pace, determined to keep moving forward despite the pain and disorientation.

"Ahh!" A pained shout reaches her hears and the vocal tone she is familiar with makes her breath hitch.

Frantically, Ayteya scans her surroundings, desperately calling out the name of her son, "Spider!" Her voice carries a sense of helplessness, but as black spots start to cloud her vision and the rain intensifies, her ability to see clearly diminishes.

The weight of the situation bears down on her, making her feel increasingly vulnerable and disoriented. Tears well up in Ayteya's eyes, but as she takes a step towards the direction of her son's cry, something collides with the side of her head, causing her to collapse to the ground once again.

Her vision blurs even further, but determined to keep going, she quickly sits up, despite her limbs moving sluggishly. Through the haze, she catches sight of a figure moving in front of her. It stands tall on two feet, and she senses immediately that it is not friendly. With the last bit of strength in her, she produces a menacing hiss and prepares herself for whatever danger may come her way.

"Well, ain't you a tough cookie?"

That voice.

'Great Mother, please watch over my son.' Is all Ayteya can think as the blurry figure comes closer. Once more, a hiss escapes her lips, yet even the sound itself wanes in strength.

"Rank up. We're taking her and the boy," the voice echoed once more, but Ayteya struggled to comprehend its words.

Numbness consumed her, rendering her unable to feel anything. Yet, amidst the void, her thoughts raced, fixating on her son's innocent smile that brought her immeasurable joy.

"My son." She whispers before falling unconscious.

A pulsating ache enveloped Spider's skull, muddling his senses. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he caught glimpses of towering trees and the ethereal night sky of Pandora swirling above him. He sensed his body being lifted, but the identity of his carrier eluded him and the exhaustion drained him of any will to care. His head limps to the side, unable to keep the strength to hold it up any longer. It's then he spots a familiar body being carried by someone, just like him

As his eyes widened, Spider's vision blurred, the world around him becoming hazy and indistinct. He could sense his eyelids growing heavy, threatening to seal shut. Yet, before succumbing to the depths of his own darkness, he summoned the last remnants of his strength to whisper a single word to the one he cherished above all else.

"Sa'nok."

⇢ next

I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I wrote this awhile ago cuz I wanted to write a story, but now I’m not sure. But I’m so proud of this ‘chapter’ that I didn’t want to not post it, y’know? Idk, I might continue on with this story, but I’m not sure. Your feedback and reblogs are so greatly appreciated though.

© jeepersbxch 2024