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oakbuggy · 5 months
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Liar, Liar Chapter 2
Recom!Neteyam x female OC
Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.
Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting
!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!
Chapter 2 (NSFW) ~6.7k words
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AO3 Link Here!
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Tala felt murky and lost, in a place vaguely familiar.
It looked like the ocean, like the one she had marveled at when all the clans came together under multiple leadership, most importantly the Sully family, but it was incredibly dark.
“Tala” A light feminine voice called out within the depths.
“Kiri!” Tala felt like crying, she reached for her but for some reason their fingers wouldn’t touch.
Kiri’s intelligent round eyes that normally glistened petal-yellow now dilated with worry.
“Tala, can you hear me? Where are you?” She couldn’t hear her.
Tala mouthed carefully the location of the scouting party’s attack. “Kol’iluen Hills, Kol’iluen Hills!”
Kiri watched her lips thoughtfully, understanding.
The Tawkami woman paused, should she even say anything about Neteyam? What could she say, when he was so different, so changed?
Kiri noticed her friend’s pained expression and smiled reassuringly. She had to tell her.
“Ne-te-yam--is–a-live”
When the Omaticayan girl’s expression morphed into one of shock and confusion, Tala knew she understood and her expression remained pained. Kiri had a special connection to Eywa, surely she would figure out what happened to him, how to help him. Much more than Tala could.
Suddenly the dream felt freezing and Kiri’s image disappeared before her eyes without a word more.
“Kiri!”
Tala gasped loudly, her body tensed and the firs thing she noticed was how cold she was.
She had been drugged and anesthetized, she had done it to herself before as an experiment but the tawtute recipe left her feeling so much worse upon awakening.
’Hello? Can you hear me? Are you alright?’
Tala surveyed her new home: three dark concrete walls and a cage door with thick bars. On the other side was just a massive hallway lit by stinging light. When she tried getting up, a weight held her down, metallic smooth cuffs secured on each wrist. She grimaced, her ear was sore too.
“Hello?” She whispered, throat dry.
“Here, here.” 
A thin hand waved at her from the corner of the cage, they also wore these cuffs. Tala reached out to brush the owner’s four fingers before holding it. Though strangers, they were both na’vi, and that was comfort enough.
“​​Oel ngati kameie, I am Orlek’an te Yokelk’ita of the Anurai.”
“​​Oel ngati kameie, Orlek’an, I am Li’tala te Eyay Engk’ita of the Tawkami. How long have you been here my sister?”
“I do not know, is it still spring?” 
“No, it’s summer.”
Orlek’an sighed. “I am a craftswoman, I was taken while foraging alone. There were others, but they’ve been moved, vanished, I am the only one who returns here. Are you a warrior, Li’tala?” 
“Please, call me Tala. And barely, I am an alchemist, but the war required more warriors. What do the tawtutes make you do here?”
“Labor, collecting, identifying, crafting which cannot be replicated by their tawtute machines,” Her voice was deep, but so, so weary. Tala sighed, frustrated, then gingerly felt around her right ear, fingers finding a squarish tag, pierced into the skin.
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“What is this on my ear, this thing? Do you have one too?”
Orlek’an barked a humorless laugh. “Tags, so vrrteps can tell their false na’vi apart from the real na’vi. They can’t tell the difference.”
Tala continued to inspect herself. She pressed her palms against the scarring on her neck, not quite healed, definitely not treated. There was no ache, it didn’t seem infected, which was the only silver lining. At least a day had passed, maybe two.
She seethed once she remembered Neteyam’s face.
Suddenly the doors to the hall boomed open and loud footsteps charged into the room. A tawtute wearing an exo-pack and a long white coat and a dreamwalker soldier stopped in front of Tala’s cell.
“Finally awake, huh? Get this one.” The dream walker opened the cage door, making both Tala and Orlek’an hiss at the intrusion. The tawtute rolled his eyes. “Just great, fresh meat.” Tala read the name on his ID: L. Hanson. Hanson turned to the dreamwalker.
“I don’t have time for this shit, get her up.”
“You could say please.”
“Please, Patty.” The dreamwalker smirked and approached Tala, who had buried herself in the corner of her cell, pupils tiny and menacing. Patty raised her hands in defense.
“You scratch at me, those bracelets will shock the Eywa out of you if you do. No sudden moves.” She said in stilted na’vi. Cautiously, Tala stood up and nodded.
The cuffs magnetized and forced her arms together with a loud clack. Tala scowled deeper when Patty simply shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get used to it.”
Tala grumbled to herself, she felt even more helpless than before now with her hands trapped together. As she followed the pair outside her cell, she casted a look behind her, able to catch the bright glint of copper eyes. Orlek’an. Tala waved her tail goodbye as the Anurai woman tried to give a comforting smile.
The doors opened with another slam and Tala found herself nearly blinded by the infernally bright vrrtep light fixtures.
“Move along, don’t got all day.” Patty sharply elbowed her back and Tala stumbled forward.
Lab 08. Ventilation Chamber. Electric 7B. The place was so massive and Tala committed the path and signages to memory. It was child’s play, as it was to any young alchemist. The place was crawling most with Recombinant and dreamwalkers, the humans she did glimpse at all wore either exo-packs or white hazmat suits.
After walking down the maze of Bridgehead, they finally came upon a darkened laboratory, Lab 12. Plants and samples were kept bright and encased in clear glass cases. Patty pushed Tala onto a tiny wheeled stool and then took a seat by the door.
“Understand English?” Hanson asked gruffly, also sitting down. He tinkered with his digital pad but Tala’s eyes wandered, there seemed to be only two other tawtute scientists working at opposite corners. Shiny shock batons strapped to their white hazmat suits.
“Hey!” Hanson slammed his fist on the desk but it didn’t shock Tala much. The muted thump was like that of a na’vi child’s tantrum rather than anything of threat.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.” She said quietly.
“Fucking finally. Don’t wanna deal with this piece of shit translator.” Hanson grumbled to himself and Tala could hear the faint snickers behind her.
Droids came over to the table before Tala. For the next few hours, that’s all she did, she sat and listed out names of plants, herbs, roots, leaves, etc. With how monotonous the work was, sometimes she would pretend not to know words in English just to see Hanson curse and uselessly finagle his translator pad, which was indeed a piece of shit. This brought some entertainment to both her and Patty, and the guard herself seemed content to stay seated by the door.
After hours of what felt even more mundane than weaving, which she unfortunately despised, she was finally allowed to leave after Hanson waved her off like a nuisance.
Patty held her gun securely as she made Tala walk ahead of her. Seeing how the dreamwalker preferred to painfully jab her body whenever they needed to turn, Tala let her mind wander. She thought about the poison affecting Neteyam.
What was the efficacy of her scent? Did it have an active effect that persisted even without close proximity? Or was he just baring with it? How long would it be effective for once she was absent? Did it do more than ‘help with headaches’?
Her head was filled with so many potential hypotheses that her neck was suddenly yanked back to stop her from crashing into someone.
A large recombinant solder stood tall over both women and he turned, a strange glint in his eye. Patty’s back straightened.
“Evening, Private. Done for the day?”
“Yes, Corporal Halloway, sir. Just escorting the newbie back to her cell now.”
Corporal Halloway leered at Tala, his interest was evident and Tala felt goosebumps on her neck. However, a chance was a chance, and there was no reason to only count on Corporal Tom for her survival and eventual escape. Halloway seemed at least he’d be simpler to talk to than the whole paradoxical mess that is Neteyam’s psyche.
He stepped forward and hummed nonchalantly as if he wasn’t already fucking her in his head.
“You take off, Private. I’ll make sure the prisoner gets back, secure and sound.”
Patty saluted and Tala was left alone with the Recom soldier, her arms shifted uncomfortably, sore from having been forced together the entire day. Halloway smelled disgusting and she had to school her expression to keep meek and wide-eyed to not gag.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let ol’Johhny take good care of you.” He said with a smug grin.
Now she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.
He led her down different hallways, much emptier than the ones she’s been in before.
It was when Halloway slowed down to grab at her ass that Tala was wondering if this was a good idea. His scent was strangely minty, and he smelled more like the musty tawtute walls of the facility than anything.
“Don’t be shy now. I promise I’ll show you a real good time.” He prodded, squeezing her ass cheek firmly. Tala recoiled but nodded, biting her lip to appear enticed, and hoped he at least knew how to fuck.
She could smell him before she could see him, sunlillies and bark mixed with gunpowder and she grimaced at the unnatural addition. Halloway looked up.
“Yo, Tommy! Training’s already over?” He asked breezily as his fellow corporal stalked towards him, Neteyam’s expression was unreadable as usual.
He nodded and Tala ignored the feeling of his eyes burning into the side of her head.
“That’s right. What’ve you got here?” Corporal Tom asked in an even tone.
“Hmm, just something sweet. Need something to help me sleep like a baby, you know?”
“Hmm.”
Corporal Tom squeezed Tala’s free shoulder, standing opposite of Halloway.
“But I want this particular treat. Been looking forward to it all day. How about you look for something else.” It wasn’t a question.
Neteyam’s gaze was extremely unsettling, eyes barely masking a foul mood and violent intent. Halloway raised his eyebrow at him, confused, and glanced between the two na’vi. After a beat of silence, Halloway raised both hands in peace.
“Alright, since you want it so bad, you can have her. It’s my turn next time though!” Halloway conceded and walked away lazily. Tala felt her spirit and ego droop, that was it? Was she not worthy of even a little bit more reluctance? When the Recom walked out of earshot, she turned to Neteyam quite haughtily.
“Surely you knew you’d have to share, yes?” She said with an unamused look on her face. Neteyam’s cockblocking was going to be a problem in her chances of escape.
Instead of answering, he grabbed Tala by the neck and pushed her into a room on their left, knocking the air out of her lungs as she landed on what seemed to be a bed. Her head hit the wall and she winced, cradling it. The blaring lights didn’t take it any better, it was harsh and the bed was barely even that, extremely stiff. A near claustrophobic, windowless room.
Halloway had intended to bring her to one of the rutting/heat rooms, closed off from the rest of the facility and meant for the growing number of Recombinant na’vi. It was private and soundproof, most used it for more casual purposes than it was designed for.
Tala glared up at Neteyam only to see huge pools of sunlight, his pupils intensely compacted and focused on her. He seemed very territorial for someone who considered her a toy.
She kneeled up quickly on the bed, intrigued.
“Did you really want to keep me to yourself?” She cooed, almost laughing. Tala leaned against Neteyam who stood, hands and face resting on his toned stomach as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Maybe not entirely hopeless.
“Watch yourself. Halloway smells like shit and that defeats the purpose of you.” Neteyam sneered, shoving Tala back. She rolled into a stand and gracefully draped her trapped arms around his head with a coy smile, bewildering Neteyam. He had half a mind to just kick her out of Bridgehead and be done with her, migraines be damned. 
“If you wanted me to be all yours, I prefer being courted with beaded tops and food.” Tala was positively glowing, her smile was full of mirth.
“I changed my mind. I’d rather shoot you.”
She giggled. Neteyam looked at her like she was crazy and his body felt hot, he attributed it to anger from her insolence. He growled as he grabbed at the backs of her legs and landed both of them on the top of the bed. Her linked arms made it impossible for her to move away.
“Hey-!” Tala yelped, the back of her head stung hitting the hard pillow.
Neteyam kissed her hard, sick of her speaking. The kiss had them both opening their mouths wide, fangs clacking, their arousals grinding against each other. The friction made Tala arch her back and moan breathily.
To his intense displeasure that moan just turned into more airy giggling.
“But what about tomorrow, or the day after that? Are you going to see me every day, is that it?” Tala asked mockingly, her tail swishing back and forth cheekily. Neteyam said nothing and smirked.
Tala’s smile dropped and her tail stilled. There was no way this skxawng was serious.
Neteyam scoffed then dove his face over the crook of her neck to inhale more of her spicy-sweet scent. He bit at her neck, right under her jaw, and suckled her skin, she shivered and moaned. 
“I’m not surprised you already need a reminder of what you are.”
Before Tala could process his words, suddenly he was ripping her arms off his head and manhandled her to land on the floor on her ass.
“Ow! You fucking brute, you could’ve-“ She started to curse but froze when quick hands practically ripped off the metal buckles of his tactical harness and zipped down his pants just enough for his heavy cock to hang free.
Tala was glad she was on her knees because they were already feeling weak looking at the size of it.
Thick-vein and ribbed, Tala nearly cursed Eywa for making this particular creation so infuriatingly perfect. His tip was already leaking precum that smelled so unfortunately divine to her nose.
Neteyam’s ego naturally inflated as he watched her practically salivate over his cock, not even fully hard. He smirked as he taunted her. “Be a good girl and maybe I’ll even fuck you with it.”
Her clunt clenched around nothing and Tala could feel her cheeks flush even deeper and she bit her lips shut.
“Open.” He rasped heatedly and with his other hand, he lifted the tip to her lips. She blinked up at him through her long eyelashes and paused. His pupils were already blown wide black, looking more and more like he wanted to devour her whole, and her entire body felt flushed under his concentrated stare.
She let her eyelids drop and held eye contact as her tongue slowly lapped at his tip for a taste.
Salty, his musk was dizzying her. He kept still.
Tala opened her jaw wider to take the in head slowly.
Neteyam yanked her head forward and held onto her with both hands. He let out a long groan feeling her throat spasm and squeeze his length in her panic. His hips started moving slowly, uncaring for how much she was choking on his thick length.
“Fuck…” He breathed out quietly over her muffled whimpers.
Tears beaded on Tala’s eyelashes at the sudden burn in her throat and her hands flew to his clothed thighs, clawing onto them for dear life as Neteyam started fucking her mouth. He leveraged her head in time with his hips, making her nose hit his pelvis each time, ignoring every gag.
Tala tried her best to relax her throat, laying her tongue flat against the underside of his cock, though her adaptability only earned her insults.
“Such a slut. You’re used to this, aren’t you?” He growled tauntingly and pulled out his cock almost all the way before slamming it back into her windpipe. She screamed around his hard cock, the vibrations making him rut while the sound stroked his ego. His eyes were open, enthralled in watching her fall apart and choke, uselessly trying to squirm and push away from him. Precum and drool dribbled from the sides of her swollen lips and Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone.
“You’re a toy, Tala, my toy. And I’ll use my toy whenever I want.” Neteyam chuckled darkly but Tala could barely hear at this point. His cock was bruising her throat, her eyes were watering nonstop and her head was spinning.
His moans and grunts filled the room, he’s not sure how he was able to keep this long without Tala’s mouth. It was tight and wet, and it felt so good to shut her up. Tala worked her tongue to massage the underside, she couldn’t help moaning as she felt every hard ridge of his cock. Her tewng was soaked through even despite the abuse of her mouth. He could smell her so clearly, her arousal made him enjoy her mouth all the more.
“You only exist for me now.” Neteyam muttered with a wicked smile. He then stilled, holding Tala’s head down. Her eyes were darting up at him and his figure, yet he just waited. He waited for her fingers to start trembling and dug into his clothes thighs. Waited for her to try forcing her head back against his grip. Waited for her drool to overflow, her whimpers to get louder and louder, her throat to convulse-
“Do you understand, ma’fil(my toy)?”
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Tala nodded desperately.
Neteyam let her head go and she lurched backward, coughing out drool and precum. She gasped and shuddered, tears running down her cheeks and even her tail was too weak to raise itself from the ground. He graciously allowed a few more seconds before he started pulling her head towards him again.
Tala resigned to her current fate, dizzied and hot from him abusing her throat. He liked her like this, so much more compliant. Neteyam loved the way her eyes rolled back every time she gasped for breath and how all that drool was running down her neck, to the floor, and dripping from her tits.
“Good girl… there’s hope for you yet.” He muttered, now his hips adding more force every time she sunk down to his hilt. She moaned a whine, her mouth felt fucking heavenly.
He let out tawtute curses under his breath and kept Tala’s head still, snapping his cock into her mouth in fast strokes. 
Finally, Neteyam let out a long curse and froze, eyes snapped shut as he came in the back of her throat. Tala’s eyes rolled back, she just couldn’t swallow, she couldn’t breathe, and her body was twitching and desperate for air.
When he finally pulled out of her mouth, Tala collapsed forward, coughing and leaking cum from her swollen lips.
There were barely any thoughts in her head, only the taste of his cum and the unsatisfied throbbing of her pussy.
Neteyam tugged her head up by her hair, he wanted to see her face.
Eywa, she looked so wrecked, he could tell she was barely even registering the force of his grip and it made him smirk.
Tala knew what a complete mess she must’ve looked like, she had basically sobbed around that wonderfully–stupidly– ribbed cock. After she regained some sense she looked up begrudgingly, ears ready to hear whatever smug shit was about to spew from that handsome face.
“Good girl. You did your best.” UGH
“Fuck you.” It was harder to speak than she thought it would be.
He chuckled. He pressed some button on his wrist tech and with a drop, Tala’s hands unlinked. She looked down, then looked up, mind still catching up.
“You… could have done that this entire time?”
“What’s the problem? You only used your mouth.”
Tala hissed. She looked down on herself, cum and unholy amount of drool stuck to her skin and made her feel that much more dirty. She empathically placed her hands on both of his thighs to support herself to her feet and then leaned close to his face.
“Well, your toy wants to be clean now, if you don’t mind.” She glowered. Unsatisfied or not, Tala would rather get cleaned than anything at that moment. Neteyam looked down to watch his cum dripping down her neck and tits, decorating her boobs enticingly, his smug smile widened.
“You’ve never looked better.” He smiled as if he had given her a genuine compliment and Tala wanted to suffocate him. Before the Tawkami girl could reach for the pillow, Neteyam suddenly stood up, stepped out of his pants, and tugged off his shirt lazily. He grabbed Tala around her waist and carried her like a sack into the connected bathroom unit. There had to be one when heats or ruts could last days at a time.
“O-Oh! Neteyam, you skxawng!” She struggled, cursing. He sighed. “I’ll drop you.” Tala went limp.
The bathroom was small, more like a wet room with a connected hand-hold faucet. Obviously, Neteyam got to it first, and obviously, he turned it on and struck her with freezing water and he laughed meanly at the scream that came out of her mouth.
“Such a fucking—!” She expeled a long string of na’vi curses that Neteyam didn’t bother to listen to. All of her was wet and cold and Tala flung her wet hair at Neteyam to slap him. He merely chuckled and when the water turned warm, he held the showerhead above his head and pulled her in to let it soak down her too.
“Gotta help clean my toy, yes?” He replied and Tala scoffed. She worked on washing her face and ran her hands along her neck and chest, pawing at her breasts to get that sticky feeling and his smell off of her.
Maybe Neteyam was staring. Maybe he was thinking of pushing her against the wall and having her scream his name out of pleasure this time.
When Tala looked back at him, cheeks still red and lips still swollen, now her hair cascading in soft wet waves, he seriously contemplated having that thought be a reality.
“Your toy is fragile, it’d be a problem for you too if I broke.” She said snarkily, knowing exactly what was going on in his mind. “Your headband, skxawngs.” She lightly pulled the headband off before the fabric got completely soaked. 
Neteyam watched as she gently placed it on a dry ledge, away from the spray, then massaged the area of his mark on her neck.
He supposed he could have been gentler with the bite, with the way it bruised ugly vivid colors and still had hard shells of blood. Tala glanced up at him, his scar visible. He was still handsome even with the scar on his forehead, which was infuriating, but still, it was large, and it looked… as if it was burning inside him.
“Does it hurt?” She asked, both knew what she was referring to. He snorted.
“Do you care?”
“Oh, yes, I enjoy asking about things I don't care about! You act as if I like wasting my own time.” She replied sarcastically.
“You do, you do it all the time.”
Tala screwed up her face and turned away from him with a huff, because maybe he was technically correct, it was a coincidence. She’d rather freeze outside than spend another second with him. He stopped her by just barely ghosting his fingers over her elbow.
“It doesn’t right now.” His voice was low, likely honest. She paused. 
“Let me see.”
Neteyam highly considered not, but right now she was closer to the exit, and therefore his gun, so he relented. He put the showerhead on a hook that let the water run on them both and leaned down with a sigh. Tala gingerly held his face, completely focused on the scar tissue. There was skin trauma, sure, though it was as if injected with something dark, swirling, active. But still, a question picked at her brain.
“Why do you hide it?” The People did not consider scars unseemly, they were proof of their survival. This was too.
Neteyam pulled his face away from her hands.
“Tawtutes stare.”
“Tawtutes always stare.” Tala countered. He raised his brows at her and they stared for a moment in silence. He sighed.
“Some specific scientists stare. I don’t like the look on their faces, they look… pleased with themselves.” Neteyam admitted without looking at her in the eye. He wasn’t completely sure why he was explaining this. Maybe because of that along with headaches, he felt his usual aggressive thoughts… silence. Feeling clearheaded out of battle felt strange after months otherwise.
“Do you remember how you died?” Tala knew it was a sensitive question but they have already established that neither felt like being patient with the other. Neteyam kept still like a statue, eyes challenging her.
“Lo’ak shot me. Right here.” He pointed to his forehead scar.
Tala’s eyes widened, that wasn’t what she was told. He saw her disbelief and his voice turned scornful.
“Of course, he never told you, maybe didn’t tell anyone. Skxawng was returning fire, then hit me instead.” His face twisted in anger, betrayal, and the vitriol in his words made her feel sick.
“That’s… That’s not what I heard. Kiri said-”
“Kiri wasn’t there. I’m sure my Mother finished my songcord with a heroic ending. How could she sing ‘slain by his baby brother’?” He growled, fangs showing his spite. He straightened his back and wiped water from his face in an act to center himself. His eyes became even colder as he stared down at her.
“Besides, Tala, how well do you even know my family? Would you really be able to tell if they’re lying?”
The words stung but it was already where the Tawkami woman’s mind went to. She was closest with Kiri, and for Tuk she didn’t want to pry. Lo’ak only confessed that he hadn’t visited the Tree of Voices even once after a long night of drinking kava. He and Spider both asked for her help with their nightmares and she had concocted strong sleeping droughts for a peaceful sleep, but even once and a while they would still scream themselves awake.
Her tail swung erratically as her mind raced. Only Kiri had told her of their family surrounding Neteyam as he died, bleeding out. Her eyes shifted to the large scar on his chest instead.
It ruled out the headshot, the chest was his death shot, but how involved was Lo’ak? Her stance wavered in the face of Neteyam’s eyes scorching white heat through her own. If her eyes were a forest, Neteyam’s sun was burning it down.
Tala closed her eyes. Regardless, her theory was answered and the details surrounding Neteyam’s death didn’t matter to her, not when she was focused on her survival. This was not her goal.
“So the scientists brought you back. Shouldn’t you be proud of them?” She asked instead. He glowered.
“You and I both know that I shouldn’t be here.”
Tala hummed, neutral. He knew it was wrong for him to be alive, but now that he was he would be fighting for the RDA’s behalf. She smiled, slightly embittered, mostly sad.
“Seems like no one in this war will let you rest.” Neteyam found her words surprisingly sincere. The way her leaf-green eyes seemed actually so upset for his sake though unnerved him, her sentiment made awful feelings swirl in his gut and it twisted him further.
“Must seem like that for the Tawkami’s ‘Sevin Prrnesyul(Pretty flower bud). No one’s expected much from you, have they?” Neteyam’s words were venomous, malicious, and Tala bristled at them. What just happened, how poisoned was he to take her words like that? She pursed her lips, she really shouldn’t lower herself down to his level.
“Says the vrrteps’ amazing experiment. You're a wonderful little trophy for them, aren’t you?” She bit back before thinking and Neteyam glared, his nose twitched.
“Not as much of a trophy as you are. Prison must already be torture for you, you’re so used to just sitting still and smiling, and being fed well for it.”
Tala’s smile became saccharine and she raised to her tiptoes. This asshole-
“Aw, I’m honored the strong and mighty would be-Oloeyketan finds me desirable, it’s truly an honor. I’m sorry, I’m too busy smiling so I won't be able to immediately grovel at your-”
The way Neteyam smirked and puffed up his chest arrogantly made her stop dead. He tilted his head condescendingly. She sensed her mistake.
“Go on, little toy. Finish that sentence.” He taunted. Her face soured.
“Wouldn’t you like that?” Tala replied scathingly, returning his smile.
Neteyam cupped her ass tight and it made her let out a high-pitched squeal. She flushed deeply and bit her lips into an ashamed frown and he laughed meanly. He eyed her lips, still red and swollen and he licked his own.
“Yes, do mind the drool.” She quipped and he rolled his eyes. He flicked the shower off and then again manhandled her in his arms and she screamed.
“Stop picking me up!!” Her head swung downwards and she almost thought he was going to drop her on her head and really kill her until she just hovered over his half-hard cock. She could see it twitching to life and she stared.
“You are so-nng~!” Tala moaned weakly when Neteyam licked a flat stripe against her pussy lips, blood was rushing to her head. Neteyam encircled his taut muscles around her waist and proceeded to bury his mouth into her hot cunt, already leaking juices.
Tala grabbed onto his thick thighs for support, only brushing her face closer to his hard cock. Whether or not she sucked it, he found that didn’t care. He just wanted to suck her sensitive flesh and juices, envelop himself in her spicy and sweet perfume and listen to her babble stupidly for his tongue.
Her embarrassment afterward was always an added bonus.
Slick was trickling down her ass and her belly as he feasted, massaging and twisting his tongue inside, sucking at her clit. Her pussy fluttered and spasmed, Tala’s strangled moans bounced against the tiles. She needed something, anything to hold onto-
Neteyam lip’s stuttered a groan when he felt her warm mouth enveloping his cock. He chuckled softly on her sensitive bud, vibrations making her mewl and her thighs twitch around his head.
“Such a good toy f’me.” He husked, then returned to his meal. It was even harder to breathe like this but Tala drooled at how her throat convulsed around his hot shaft. Every time she needed to take a breath her tongue swirled around the fat head of his cock, her fingers bumping against themselves as they massaged every ridge firmly.
The blood was getting to her head and her legs were feeling numb but Neteyam’s tongue only dug deeper and sloppier into the sensitive and gummy walls. 
Tala panted quickly, her thighs started tensing up, she was so close so unbearably close-
Neteyam gave a final suck at her clit and withdrew his mouth from her puffy pussy.
The wholly needy whine that came out of Tala’s mouth was so unrestrained he almost felt bad for her. Almost.
He let Tala down, laying her whole body on the floor, and stared satisfactorily at her trembling body. Tala was not thinking straight otherwise she would’ve stopped herself from backing her ass up against his cock, mewling desperately.
He thumbed at her throbbing pussy languidly with a smile, he found it cute how tightly it was milking his thumb.
“Nete-please!” Tala begged, her pussy aching to be filled, begging for a release.
“I think I’m tired of playing.”
Tala huffed, she knew that was a fucking lie, looking at how rock-hard his cock was. She brought her knees up and reached between her legs, still giving Neteyam a good view.
“Then you can watch.” Tala growled heatedly and plunged her own fingers into her weeping pussy, holding eye contact. Her fingers would be just enough, her other hand furiously rubbing at her clit.
She never broke eye contact, eyelids drooping as she panted and moaned without reservation.
He wasn’t expecting this, it was unmistakably hot and he started pumping his cock in rhythm with her fingers.
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They kept moaning as they watched each other writhe in pleasure and finally Tala’s eyes rolled back and she came so hard her body stayed rigid. Neteyam came in time, hot streaks of his cum decorated her ass and back, another pretty picture.
Her thighs trembled and Tala’s body collapsed, her fingers slipping out. They breathed hard for a few moments before she disturbed the short peace.
“Enjoyed the show?” She said weakly, her giggles made Neteyam’s ears twitch.
“Looks like you enjoyed yourself more.” He quipped back.
“Mm, just admit you were captivated.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You were impossibly captivated? You just like me so much, don’t you?”
Neteyam voted internally to ignore her as he carelessly cleaned himself, barely helpful to Tala, and threw the already used towel once he was done with it at her face. Her squawk of indignation managed to quirk a smile on his face.
Once both were clothed and dry enough, Tala opened her arms at him, still situated on the bathroom floor. He furrowed his brows up, somehow she always created new ways to confound him.
“I can’t walk.”
Neteyam looked at the mischievous swaying of her tail and growled. He had decided he had had enough of Tala for the day. He didn’t even realize he had already picked up the Tawkami girl over his shoulder and carried her down the halls. Oh, she resisted at first, yelled and struggled, but by the time they reached the prisons she had begrudgingly fallen silent.
The guards stood at attention when they spotted Neteyam.
“Sir, Corporal Tom, sir.” They said, recognizing the prominent Recom soldier instantly. He basically deposited Tala onto one of them.
“At ease. Return this one to their cell.” His voice resumed its usual coldness, but Tala gritted her teeth, she could hear his smug undertone. She was annoyed but unsurprised, a least he carried her
So Tala kept her mouth shut even as the guards shoved her back into her cell, kept it shut as she fumed on the cold floor and slowly fell asleep, and kept it shut until the next time she had to return to inspection.
His ailment confused her and the rupture in his memories worried her even more. But there was nothing she would be able to do for him, he obviously needed someone more attuned to Eywa, a Tsahik, Kiri.
It was not her destiny to save Neteyam, and she doubted he wanted any anyways.
A couple of weeks passed with more or less little fanfare. Every few days or so, more samples would arrive in the lab and she’d report in, inspect, and identify and every so often mess around with Hanson and the other tawtutes. It was fun to see his face turn red and the glass of his exo-pack steam up as he sputtered.
She couldn’t exactly swipe any plant materials, but little bits of metal wires, paperclips, and loose scrap metal went by unnoticed. All she gave to Orlek’an to fashion whatever she wished. Tala thought it would be maybe hair trinkets, come to find out instead the Anurai na’vi made darts.
She was only slightly offended she hadn’t seen Neteyam since that day, but neither had she seen any other Recombinant soldier. It didn’t even matter anyways, the RDA dreamwalkers were strangely hesitant approaching her now.
“Alright, that’s enough for today. We’ll call for you again once we gather more samples.” He said simply and Tala acknowledged it with a glance his way. Hanson grumbled and spoke. “Patty, please get her out of here. And call R&D techs, this thing is driving me crazy.” The tawtute waved around the translator and Tala couldn’t stop the slight grin.
“Will do, get some rest Dr. Hanson.” Patty said and Tala slowly stood up from her seat with a sigh.
Her head snapped up. Tala smelled something alarming, txumpaywll root with notes of cinnamon. Innocuous for adult na’vi but paralyzing for a child, and she basically considered a human adult’s immune system to be that of children.
“Stop!” She shouted, her eyes searching wildly for the source. The two tawtutes who were always in the back froze, tongs loosely holding a large pod.
“What are you on-” Hanson tried to shout at her but she gasped. The microseconds dragged as she watched the seed pod slip away from the tongs’ grip and–
It was too late, a plume of sickly green smoke erupted from the beaker, and within seconds the entire room filled with the sleeping gas. Tala covered her nose and mouth, the Tawkami built up their immunity towards drugs like this. She heard Patty coughing and the tawtutes gasping, their exo-packs were not meant to filter this.
She bounded towards the beaker and dumped the solution in the chemical sink, getting rid of the source but the gas was already in their lungs. Tala cursed, her eyes darted for anything, healing roses, fpomron leaves, something fast. Something in the back of Tala’s mind creeped up to the surface, she didn’t need to save any of these tawtutes. They worked to destroy Eywa, not just study it.
Tala looked at the scientists, looking pale and gasping for breath despite their exo-packs and hazmat suits being intact. Patty’s avatar was on the floor, slumbering peacefully. She cursed loudly, Great Mother she was an alchemist not a warrior!
The Tawkami acted quickly, grabbing at plant matter and dried samples from the cabinets. She used the handle end of the stun baton to crush and grind them, creating inhalants. Scooping them in a petri dish Tala swiftly brought it to the two scientists on the floor.
“Smell!” She barked at one before removing their exo-pack slightly, shoving the petri dish to their face. She mimed the action on her own face and the tawtute followed suit, Tala reinstalled the mask and moved to the next one.
By the time the Tawkami got to Hanson, he was already fully unconscious and she expertly puffed the inhalant up his nostrils, used to doing this for ailed children.
The mechanical doors opened and revealed a shorter woman with a blond ponytail wearing an exo-mask and two Recombinant soldiers.
“Stop right there!” She screamed, Tala faltered. Patty? A second after she resecured Hanson’s exo-mask she was kicked off of him by a Recom and she yelped in pain.
When she hit the ground Tala tried to explain but her wrist cuffs activated and a painful crash of lightning coursed through her body.
“Stop…stop!” A scientist from the corner called out and Patty nodded. The cuffs deactivated and the Tawkami’s body was left jerking erratically and stiff on the lab floor.
When she looked up she saw a vaguely familiar face, Corporal Halloway? He smiled and she committed his name to her personal curse list.
Her vision was darkening fast, she could see the tawtute Patty run towards Halloway and yell something, another hazmat-suited scientist started shouting.
As Tala closed her eyes, a whiff of sunlillies tickled her nose. Surely not. Wouldn’t it be just rich for him to arrive and watch her convulse on the floor, he’d probably have difficulty holding in his glee.
She took one last breath before everything became dark. Was that… blood?
Tala hated the smell of blood.
tag list: @xylianasblog @itchaboi-itchyboy @hotdsworld @pandoraslxna @luvv4j4ybe11 @neteyamsyawntu @akoyaxs @whatevenisagrapefruit @teyamsatan @justcaptiannoodles @theblueflower05 @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @plooto @hao-ming-8 @teyamsilly @vivid-ink
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inkskinned · 1 year
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you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.
you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.
instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.
you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.
your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.
because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.
so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.
all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.
#spilled ink#woke up at 530 to write this lmafo#me in a cold sweat:#how do i be normal#edit in the tags:#hey so i've seen y'all talk about like ... wondering if ur ''allowed'' to relate#like if this is about X specific diagnosis#and when i first posted it i really almost labelled it ''please don't assume this is about a specific condition''#because as an artist i am often walking this line of discussing a symptom or discussing my conditions etc#and sometimes yes ! i do want to talk about an experience that is specific to who i am and my condition#but sometimes the effort of the post is about the EXPERIENCE rather than the diagnosis#because yes i am not neurotypical and as a result that influences my work but it is ALSO true that there are many reasons#why someone might experience this particular vague horrible feeling that you are... almost being CHASED by what you ''really'' are.#that you're outrunning your symptoms... that you're not really normal you're just sort of a mockery of a person#.... that's a really isolating and horrible way to feel no matter why you are feeling it. and the nature of this PARTICULAR post is that#it is inherently talking ABOUT that sense of isolation & of feeling not-deserving & of minimizing your own experiences to make urself#palatable for society in a way that others find easy-to-deal-with....#this post is about a certain experience such that my impression is there's a higher likelihood that those who relate#would have more difficulty thinking they ''deserve'' to relate - that it doesn't REALLY belong to them#bc often we are the kind of people who are SO used to being alienated and set aside and ''different'' that we AUTOMATICALLY assume#that things are not ''for'' us... they never have been why would it start now#we are the kinds of people to be ... ''too normal for X diagnosis but too symptomatic to be normal''#[or as this post points out... so good at ''coping''/masking/hiding it that we essentially conform to whatever shape we're poured into]#but i have witnessed others already say in the tags ''thought this was about me but it's about X so it can't be''#and im like ... of course it was about you.#art is not a resource that is diminished by greater appreciation .#you reflect in whatever mirror fits your frame. not just the ones in your bedroom. not just the ones i specifically give you.#there will be - and often are - times that i will talk about my specific conditions... but if you're reading this#regardless of why you're here... we are here together. holding hands through space and time. and i love you for carrying it#and i know you're exhausted. i am too. but i understand. and i see you.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 11 months
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Try Morse Core. Women Love Morse Code.
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lotus-pear · 3 months
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bsd fic authors i understand yalls pain SO well right now why is it so fucking HARD to write dazai. like i have a whole fucking spreadsheet dedicated to tireless analysis i have done on my part so i can accurately characterize him but he is such an unpredictable and morally gray character that it's hard knowing his limits and boundaries and where he draws the line for himself.
#i hate when ppl make him out to be a sadistic villain with no remorse. like did we read the same manga 💀#but at the same time he is NOT crying abt all the ppl he sent to the grave. he sleeps just fine at night knowing he committed atrocities#yes he feels remorse? but he isn't like kunikida to weep at someone's grave for failing to save them#and then we have his emotions themselves#dazai isn't emotionless. far from it. he has difficulty expressing affection but yk he finds someone endearing when he trusts them#trust is very important to dazai and is one of the aspects of human emotion that he can fully grasp#but like everything else is in a hazy gray area that he does not feel like exploring. he feels alienated from his humanity bc of this#AUUUGHH can someone help me with character analysis PLEASE#I WASNT PAYING ATTENTION TO THIS MF UNTIL RECENTLY SO I MISSED OUT ON A LOT OF IMPORTANT DETAILS#see i would go and reread a few light novels but like i don't have time for that#and this is for dazai specifically. i am very well versed on his relationships w other charcaters#but just like asigiri himself said: it's very difficult to write dazai and write him WELL#so yeaaa i have a lot of smart ppl following me pls help#bsd#ALSO MY FRIEND STILL HAS NO LONGER HUMAN UUUUGHHHHHH I NEED THAT BACK BC I TABBED IT A SHIT TON#FOR LIKE CONNECTIONS TO YOZO AND BSD DAZAI AND WHERE ASIGIRI DREW INSPIRATION FROM YOZOS CHARACTER FOR DAZAI#THAT WOULD BE SUCH A VALUABLE FUCKING RESOURCE BC I DID SOME ANNOTATIONS IN THEM TOO BUT MY BOOK IS ANOTHER FUCKING STATE#I HATE IT HERE FML
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Me: has so many WiPs
Also me: Hey what if I started a long VR-LA/Vhas fic that requires so so much relistening and transcribing on top of the other long fics I’m slowly planning while also not having finished my other ones yet
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astranauticus · 9 months
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𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳-𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴
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good-beanswrites · 2 months
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If ur still doing reqs id love older brother and little siblimg 0003!! I love es and fuuta sm, you can choose what they do but id rather it be post/no milgram!! Tysm
Ahh this was such a sweet request, thank you ✨ I had a lot of fun with it! I kept the details loose -- I don't know how t3 actually shakes out -- but Es still doesn't know much about themselves, so they end up moving in with the Kajiyamas. Enough time has passed for things to become fairly normal between the two.
“What are you doing? It’s giving me the fucking creeps.”
Fuuta made a disgusted face, but Es didn’t seem to notice. They just kept standing in the middle of the kitchen. It was 3am. They were barefoot, wearing one of Fuuta’s old pairs of pajamas. They stared at the countertop intently. They hadn’t even turned on the lights. Fuuta waved his phone flashlight around, trying to see what they were up to. It didn’t look like anything had been touched.
He took a step closer. His nerves were already on edge, coming into the kitchen to steal a late night snack and finding them standing ominously in the darkness. The little bit of light from his phone reflected in their icy gray eyes. 
“Oi, Es…?”
Sleepwalking. That had to be it. Fuuta rolled his eyes, breathing a small sigh at the realization. The sound was somewhere between relief and annoyance. Es was an odd kid as it was. It had been strange getting used to them living in his house, and now he had to deal with freaky stuff like this…
Fuuta approached as quietly as possible, putting his phone down. He reached out his hand. He planned on guiding them back to bed in silence, but he must have been too harsh with his grip. 
Es gasped, the dull look in their eyes turning to shock.
Fuuta immediately leapt backwards, his startled curse turning to frantic apology.
“Y-you were sleepwalking, I was trying not to wake you up but…” he trailed off, seeing Es scan the kitchen and get their bearings. 
“It’s alright. I’m used to waking up in strange places, I suppose.”
Fuuta grimaced. ‘Odd kid’ was an understatement. 
They didn’t seem to notice. Their expression had darkened. “I… I was dreaming. I was back there, and,” their voice shook with sudden emotion. “And we were all…” their breath caught.
“Hey, don’t go and start cryin’ on me.” They didn’t sound like they were going to cry exactly, but he couldn’t be too careful. He wouldn’t know what to do. “You’re not some baby. All of that is over now.” 
Fuuta had meant it as encouragement; he knew how strong Es was. As strange as they may be, they were the toughest person Fuuta had ever met. Realizing that his words may have come out a bit harsh, he tried to speak softer. “Really, it’s all over. You can relax here.”
Es nodded, but stayed silent. The two stood in the dim glow of the flashlight.
Fuuta coughed. “Now, did you want something, or…?” He gestured to the fridge, then made his way around them. He dug around inside for a snack. 
“N-no. Thank you. I’ll be heading back to bed, then. I’m sorry to have frightened you.”
“I wasn’t scared.” Fuuta said quickly. He took out something, sniffed it, and shrugged. “And anyway, it was way less terrifying than when Haruka did it.”
“Haruka sleepwalked?”
“Yeah, and when you wake a normal person up from it, they’re supposed to go into fight or flight. None of us were itching to deal with Haruka’s fight response, you know?” Fuuta took a big bite. He turned to find Es with a miserable look on their face. Through the food, he mumbled, “what?”
“I… I didn’t know that. About Haruka.”
“Okay?”
“There’s so much I didn’t know about all of you.”
“You also didn’t know jack shit about yourself, so we can call it even.” Fuuta took another bite, assuming the conversation was over.
Es wasn’t as satisfied. “I mean it,” they said, their voice still strained. “I thought I knew you, but I’ve learned so much here. There was so much I didn’t know about you. I never knew what your family was actually like, or how well-kept your room is,” they gestured to him, “or that you hardly ever sleep normally.”
Fuuta couldn’t tell if it was a criticism or not. He clicked his tongue. “Well, I never knew that strawberry milk was your favorite, but you don’t see me getting misty-eyed about it.”
Es had opened their mouth to continue, but they blinked in surprise. “How did you know I liked it?”
“Because I like it, and you keep drinking everything in the house.” He rolled his eyes.“I bought twice as much last time I went out, and you still ended up stealing it all. There’s only one little carton left…”
Es’ face slowly softened. Then, a devilish smirk crossed their lips. “You know, I thought I heard that milk is good to drink before you go to sleep…”
“Eh? Oh, hell no! That’s mine.” He went back to the fridge, rummaging around to get it.
“Says who?”
“Says me. I’m older. And I liked it first.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. And I should get it because I’m younger.”
“Now that doesn’t make sense!” Fuuta retrieved the milk. He turned the carton over in his hand. A thought crossed his mind – one he would never speak aloud to anyone, ever. He recalled his sister helping him when he was too small to reach the milk. She used to heat it up for him before bed.
He lazily tossed it across the kitchen. “Not like I care. Here, be grateful.” 
Es scrambled to catch it. Once again, their expression turned emotional. “Fuuta…”
“It’s not a big deal, sheesh!” He picked his phone up from the counter, biting down on the snack he’d grabbed. “Like I said, all that is over. You just gotta be normal now. I know that’s hard for a weirdo like you –”
“Hey!”
“– but just try, okay?” He shoved Es’ shoulder as he walked. “C’mon. Pops doesn’t care when I’m up, anymore. But he’ll give a goody-two-shoes like you a lecture if he hears.”
“I’m not a goody-two-shoes.”
“Psh, you’re the worst I’ve ever seen!”
“There’s nothing wrong with being disciplined.”
“Drink your damn milk.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
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suddencolds · 2 months
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almost done... 🙏
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infestedguest · 4 months
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tfw you’re a couple chapters into an fma found family fic and it’s becoming increasingly clear that the author sees Al as an accessory for Ed and not as an actual character
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pandora15 · 1 year
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Angstpril 2023 Day 1 Prompt: Liar
tw: character having trouble breathing, open ending
Obi-Wan knew, from the moment that he agreed to take on this mission, that it would be difficult.
Faking his death, having to pretend to be someone he wasn't for the sake of his own survival, having to interact with the likes of Cad Bane and Count Dooku himself without getting his cover blown…
Well, he knew from the beginning that it would not be easy.
But none of that was as difficult as it was to return.
The transformation from Rako Hardeen back to his own body was uncomfortable — painful, leaving him shaky and somewhat feverish. The vocal emulator wreaked damage to his vocal chords, and Master Che had confirmed that there was likely some infection in his throat that she'd like to monitor over the coming days.
Which obviously meant that he was stuck in the Halls for now. It wasn't ideal, but considering the fact that he couldn't keep down most foods because of his throat and his entire body ached any time he tried to move at all, he supposed it made sense.
Obi-Wan didn't exactly like it, but even that wasn't the worst part.
Anakin wouldn't speak to him. On the ship when they were returning from Naboo, he'd maintained his distance, and once Obi-Wan had gotten his commlink back, he'd sent Anakin messages frequently, only to receive nothing.
Obi-Wan knew that the deception had upset Anakin. He understood why — more than most, he understood.
But he had hoped that Anakin would also understand why he did it.
"You lied to us," Anakin had said, when Obi-Wan had approached him on the ship. "What else have you lied to me about? Do you even care about any of us?"
Obi-Wan had no response to that — how could he, when he knew that Anakin was right? He did lie to them, after all.
And now he was here, alone, because he did what he knew to be right. Anakin wouldn't speak to him, Ahsoka wouldn't speak to him, Cody wouldn't speak to him, the Council wouldn't speak to him.
He'd succeeded on his mission, and yet —
He'd failed them all.
Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan placed his commlink back on the table next to the bed. He winced as his throat spasmed at the rush of air, and then he coughed, bending forward slightly to gasp for air.
That seemed to trigger a chain reaction of sorts. The more he gasped for air, the more it irritated his throat, causing him to gasp even more. And the air wasn't even traveling down his throat properly, which meant that —
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't breathe.
The room seemed to tilt on its axis around him as he shuddered and gasped and placed his forehead on his knees. There was a ringing noise, muffled by the blood rushing in his ears, followed by the sound of footsteps. Voices surrounded him, but he couldn't make them out, not until —
"Obi-Wan?" A hand on his shoulder, pushing him back until he was lying back again, head arching backward in a desperate reach for air. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't —
"Okay, okay, just hold on." The voice was gentle, soothing. "Your throat has swollen up too much. You're not getting enough air."
There were hands holding him down, the hiss of a hypospray, followed by the feeling of everything getting floaty and blurry, until…
His eyes snapped shut, and the memory of his lies that constantly plagued him faded away.
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welcometogrouchland · 1 month
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Anyway since they're apparently not going to go with the "Steph leading/babysitting a team of young heroes" book idea (pause for despair) I'd like to pitch MY idea for Steph: Steph gets back into playing piano (she already started doing so in Batgirls #18!) and ends up taking on a mystery related to the basement rock scene in Gotham (I know the underground concert game there is INSANE absolutely prime serial killer territory)
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scribefindegil · 1 year
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I post a lot about how it’s vitally important to be comfortable with making Bad Art if you are a beginner, but I’m struggling a lot with being comfortable making Bad Art due to a loss of capacity. All those quotes about wresting with the gap between understanding and execution hit a lot harder when you used to be able to execute really beautiful, complicated things and now you can’t.
I think a lot about Terry Pratchett’s later books, especially the last one. It’s not as good as what he used to write. You can feel the impact that his illness had on it. It makes it hard to read at times.
I’m still glad that he wrote it.
Since my curse got worse over the summer, all my thoughts are slow and fuzzy. I struggle to remember words and to make connections. I’m not capable of entering the “flow” of writing anymore; every single word is like raising a stone block out of a quarry. My sentences feel clunky and off-kilter. I hate it.
I’d decided that this meant I just couldn’t write anymore.
I think I’ve changed my mind.
I know I can’t write the way I used to, and that’s really hard and frustrating. But giving up and saying, “Well, this means I can’t ever tell stories unless my brain comes back” was just making me more miserable. So I’m going to try. It’s okay if it takes a long time. It’s okay if they aren’t very good. I don’t have to push through if it’s too hard for me to get joy out of it or it ends up making my health worse. But I don’t have to write it off as a lost cause either.
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brittlebutch · 10 days
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finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it
#N posts stuff#like don't get it wrong it Is Not a series about being autistic it Is a series about raising an autistic kid#but also don't be put off by that because it's legitimately a series that I feel Loves autistic people with its whole being#it's kind of a teaching manga so it showcases a lot of different opinions/characters/conflicts/etc. but the Framing is very consistent#in that the manga is Extremely of the opinion that autistic people are People who deserve to be Valued and Accepted As They Are#the onus for change is never put on autistic individuals the framing is basically Universal in the 'the World needs to change#to be more accepting' -- it's a very Social Model depiction of autism that ALSO never veers too far into the#'autism isn't even Really a disability' fallacy; it's very much a 'A lot of autistic people will need constant support in a variety of ways#throughout their lives but that isn't the roadblock preventing them from having their own lives; ableism in society is the roadblock'#the first two chapters are the hardest to get through bc they take place before Sachiko has any real understanding of autism and#so she's isolated and stressed out and the ignorance makes it difficult for her to care for Hikaru properly (there's also a lot of#other characters Blaming her for what's going on which goes unchallenged at this point though that changes later); but after she#understands what autism is she's Firmly in Hikaru's corner for the rest of the series - you can skip right to ch 3 without a problem#if you're not interested in reading about that initial conflict#there's still a Lot of conflict ofc but by then the chapters have some of my favorite moments so i don't want to advocate skipping#them; like Hikaru's daycare teacher explaining how Hikaru's difficulty speaking is the same as other kids' troubles with#things like jump-roping/etc.; and then a mother who has An Issue with Hikaru's presence in her daughter's class realizing the#depth of the problematic opinion bc Her mother (who had a stroke) faces similar ableism from her peers#i'm cutting this post off b4 the tags get Too long but if you're curious but still hesitant man. send me an ask and i will Happily#write an insanely long essay about how much i love this series; i have all the books i'm not excited about the online availability#for Me i'm excited bc i've been wanting to rec this manga for like almost a full decade and i can finally give you a link instead of#saying 'well. you can find used copies sometimes' lol
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vykko · 1 year
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so i animated the pic
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It’s weird and fast at the start not on purpose but can’t be bothered to fix it, also sniper’s hate clips through to much,
Also this is ment to partly out of character because it was for fun to make
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verflares · 25 days
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i wanna transplant a lot of how ive written botw/totk link into my og one i think..... mostly just because writing for him last year made me realise how much i enjoy seeing how far you can go with using minimal dialogue + actions and expressions over words to convey thoughts and feelings, both from that pov and from others
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itspileofgoodthings · 26 days
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.
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