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marigoldenblooms · 2 months

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Unica Semper Avis - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, canon-level violence, use of medieval weapons, body horror description in transformation, magic use, slight dissociation/self harm, restraint, fluff (for five seconds), R is a simp, so is W, N is not here to play, etc.

A/N: I’ve been working on this next chapter ever since the previous. Chapter two is coming along quickly as well! I want to keep a bit of a backlog for my longer fics, so updates will be as frequent as I can manage. The name established in this chapter for R will be used sparingly, but I loved what Missmonsters2 did with Between the Lines when I read it months ago, and thought it’d be pertinent until nicknames/pet names are established (and for as long as I can avoid conversation where names are necessary).

R’s monster form brought to you by bearded vulture inspiration! Feel free to imagine your own version of avian horror to your heart’s content. Enjoy, y’all!

Word Count: 3.1k - Read Length: 11 minutes, 18 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~ The healer’s home was nothing short of overwhelming.

Multi-colored knick-knacks were strewn on every surface, perched below gatherings of drying, braided flowers which hung from the rafters. Beneath your feet, woven rugs of alternating sizes dotted the cabin’s cool wooden floors, like islands between a chilled sea of timber. The front door lead further into a sitting room, offering glimpses into a small, quaint looking kitchen, adorned with a single well-worn table and chair. Within that same place, a large pot was held still on the counter by wisps of scarlet magic, another more opaque plume coaxing a wooden spoon to stir whatever was inside.

Paintings hung along every wall, although you could never get a full glance at one, as though they’d subtly shift and change muses whenever you’d look away. The sound of a shutting door would heighten your senses enough to break from the scenery, turning on your heels to face the home’s owner once again. She’d pry at you with a half-smile, and you’d solidify your gaze at the floor before her eyes could have the chance to meet yours.

“What brings you to my home?” She’d question evenly, her words a pleasing rasp- smooth molasses which could easily cloud your senses if you allowed her to. You’d see her form move to the side of you in your peripheral, yet you’d remain still, your stare continuing to bore a hole into her carpet.

Wordlessly, you’d tug at your shawled sleeve to show the back of your arm. Running along the skin’s expanse were thin ridges, pin feathers prickling beneath taut flesh. A light down speckled your skin in odd patches, consolidated mostly on your neck and shoulders for now. Your hair had begun to fleck and grow waxy and silkish, akin to dense ostrich feathers, tousled from your trek to her abode. You’d watch the ground as her shadow would shift around you, a curious tsk showcasing her intrigue.

You wouldn’t see her raised expression, eyebrows furrowed as she’d take your wrist without warning, raising it up so she could see the indentation better in the light. She’d drop your arm as soon as she��d grabbed it, falling limply to your side, and her smooth voice would threaten to carry you off again. “Fascinating..your affliction isn’t something I’ve seen recently.”

“Can you help?” You’d mumble, the few phrases coming to you sounding choked from lack of use, and you could hear the healer’s grunt at your lackluster response. You’d swallow thickly, trying to find the words to explain all that you were, but none arrived. She’d circle around you once more, and before you could flinch away, would capture your chin between her thumb and forefinger, wrenching it to make you look at her- green irises narrowing as you’d shut yours, unwilling to look her in the eye. You’d half expect her grip to be cold like the Matron’s, but her touch’s pleasant warmth was something you almost missed as she’d let go of you, the shuffle of her arms crossing heightened behind your closed eyelids.

“I can’t help a patient I can’t trust,” She’d muse with a teasing lilt, rolling her r’s in a way that made your chest flutter. Was this another symptom of your molt? It had been a long time since you’d been with another and the thought made your heart ache, albeit not more than your bones. “Why won’t you look at me?”

The scoff that came in response to her was almost too easy, opening your eyes after directing your head to the floor again, “Because I am no threat to you.” “And why would I assume that?” She’d retort immediately, and you’d glare into the ground. Why was talking so easy for her? Why couldn’t she understand that you weren’t like her? You’d raise your arm aloft again, the skin burning now as you’d twist the plumage under your flesh for her view. The rage that had been festering in you for days unlocked a torrent of your words, finally finding purchase in your mouth- frustration evident in how each phrase was ripped from your throat. Your larynx would be useless beyond a breathing tool soon, so you better use it now. Your nails clawed at your arms, doubling into yourself, “Because you are human and I am not, healer- is that not something you’re able to understand-?!”

“Relax for me-” she’d grit, and you’d feel your stomach plummet at her words. Something in them begged obedience, and for a second you felt as though you were back in your nightmare. You’d twitch, glance immediately circling the ceiling as something would restrain you- thin tendrils of crimson magic, keeping your arms from flaring out at your sides. As if seeing your frustration, your panic, the healer’s sorcery would calm, soothing both your body and your mind into an unnatural lull. “You’re…using-” you’d begin, yet words would evade you once again, no longer fueled by anger. There was only a different feeling- regret, and uncomfortable stone in your stomach that you shied away from, wanting to cower from its weight. You didn’t like yelling at this woman, even as she cradled you with her witchcraft.

You’d feel her heat again, warm hands placing tentative touches to your shoulders, slowly coaxing your glance to hers. “I’m sorry,” she’d breathe, shallow as you’d feel her palms shake against you, “I didn’t want you… to hurt yourself-” Her irises, blooming with clouds of red, would drain into green as you’d feel her magic loosen around your body like unraveling ropes. You wouldn’t shy away from her this time, panting as her gaze would share her soul with you. She, too, held that stone in her gut. Perhaps she didn’t fear you.

You’d part as her back would stiffen, adding a few feet between the two of you. “What is your name?” She’d ask, and you saw the way her head tilted since you looked at her face. Your words came easier now that you were less tense, muscles losing their rigidity, and yet you didn’t have an answer for her. You still pried into her windows, eyes flicking across the expanse of her garden from the view you could get from her living room, but it was a start. “I met your gaze, healer..I’ve done my part, you first.”

You’d see the way her nose crinkled at your response, flecks of mirth illuminating her expression, a grin finding its place there, “Talking now, are we? I’m Wanda.” “I’m..Margo.” In truth, you hadn’t had a name in years, the few decades you’d been alive focused more on survival than memory, especially when your molts made it difficult to discern who you really were- humanoid or avian. You’d forgotten your birth name ages ago, and it was a blessing that your words left your mouth as cleanly as they did. She’d tut at your response, taking it in as satisfactory, “Sure…Margo. Would you like to sit down?”

Wanda would guide you to her kitchen table without much fanfare, settling you on her single chair. With a focused look and a wave of her hand, however- a duplicate would reveal itself from a cloud of scarlet mist. “Your magic is red?” You’d inquire, tilting your head as you’d seen her do, “It’s a violent color. Why is that?”

“Do you really want to toe that line?” Her phrase were humorous, yet you swear a flash of indignation peppered her visage. You were not going to mess with that line, whatever she meant by that. “No, Wanda.” She smiled at that, her name seemingly pleasing in your mouth. You felt the flutter in your chest again, heart drumming a little faster against your shifting ribcage. If this was a sign of your incoming succession, then you had to finish this fast- to return before you transformed in Wanda’s house. And yet, why was the feeling almost pleasant?

“You said you haven’t seen my ‘affliction’ in a while,” You’d recount, finding her term for your molt unremarkable. You’d offer her a glimpse of your arm again, hesitating to touch the quills beneath. It was always tender before a lunation, and you didn’t want to aggravate the transformation further, “It doesn’t normally happen so soon. In hours before the new moon, maybe- not over days.”

“And what happens after those hours?” She’d coax your arm down with a gentle wave, seeing how your movements grew stiff as your skeleton hollowed out. You shrug, “I transform.” Wanda’s expression would sour, yet curiosity prickled underneath. Why did she look at you like that? “Can you help me? You said you're familiar with my kind.”

“..In truth, I’ve never met someone like you,” She’d murmur, expression bashful, and if the circumstances were different you would’ve taken it as a compliment. Instead, spiked embers of dread seared in your stomach, heart beginning to thrum in your ears. She didn’t know. Could she even help you? Her voice would raise a little louder, “However, if you tell me about yourself, perhaps I could figure it out.” With a twirl of her fingers, two cups of..something floated towards the table. Her gaze was an offer, “Thirsty?”

You’d nod, your throat suddenly dry. The drink was smooth and warm, with a bite of something fresh and crisp. It was much better than your rainwater. Gulping more of it down, you notice how she’d smile at your eagerness, careful not to spill as you’d raise the cup from its saucer. “Cider,” she’d mention, motioning to her mug, “Where are you from?” “My cavern is far from here. About half a day’s walk.” Wanda’s eyebrows would raise. “Cavern? You live in a cave?” Her interest was a delight, and you wanted to keep it for as long as you could. You didn’t answer her question, instead throwing one back at her, “Why do you live far from your town?”

“Bellmoor?” Amusement would blanket Wanda’s expression, snorting as she’d shake her head, twisting in her chair so she could lean forward towards you, “Because I like my peace and quiet. I assume the same for you, Птичка?”

“What does that mean?” You’d ask, and she’d tut again. “Now now, that can be your next question, but it’s my turn.” She’d scrunch her nose at your grumbling acquiesce, and you couldn’t help but smile with her. You liked this game. Wanda rested her hands on her table, and your eyes were caught on the shimmer of her rings as she’d speak, “Can you control your transformation?” That one was easy. “Fuckin’ wish I could...” Wanda’s brows would reach her hairline at your curse, but you wouldn’t give her time to comment as yours would stream from your maw, though it’d stop early, “No Aegypius can. What does..”

“‘Птичка’ mean?” She’d grin, rasping her knuckles on the wooden grain at each syllable, “Little bird, birdie, you have feathers underneath your skin, yes?” You’d send her a taunting look, one that she met in equal measure. You’d smile back at her, “Is that your question?”

Wanda would balk, gotten so caught up in teasing you that her words just tumbled out with no direction. You’d see her cheeks grow pink, clearing her throat with a stuttered breath, and you swear she felt like you did when you felt that flutter. “No, it isn’t-” She’d respond smoothly, but you caught how her eyes shimmered, and you took another sip of cider. You knew why when her words made your mind double-take, “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

You almost spit out your drink, coughing on it as you’d sputter, blush alighting your face. You felt it warm and you tried to hide it away, your flustered reaction seemingly pleasing Wanda. She certainly didn’t know what that meant to you, “I..you want me to stay with you- I’m going to molt tonight, Wanda.”

“And if I am to help your transformation, then I must see it in person,” She’d respond, never losing her smile. It soothed you, that richness in her tone and that calm in her expression, and you’d feel a new pull in your heart. One you hated.

Your instincts wanted you to ruin her. Wanted her vulnerable as she was, to splinter her bones into shards you didn’t even have to chew.

To take advantage of her weakness, your hunger eating you alive unless you picked her clean, consumed-

You’d swallow, a shaky breath leaving you. Wanda had blinked, and your voice acted quicker than your mind would comprehend, “I don’t want it helped, Wanda. I want it gone.” You’d feel your skin itch at that, and a cold dread filled your gut, like the Matron’s chill held you once again. Your words were a whisper. “But I don’t think my body will let me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay. Do you have anything that helps you calm down?” She’d ask, leaning forward with a gentle lilt. Her hand would’ve come across the table, offering her palm to yours. It was calloused, warm skin juxtaposed with smooth metal, and you took it in yours gratefully. You were starting to really like her company.

------------------------------------------

The hours would’ve floated by you, a subtle bliss filling you as you and Wanda would’ve enjoyed the rest of your evening together. You could feel your body shift by the hour, and yet a part of you didn’t care if you were with her. You’d show her your chains, mentioning their unknown inscription and how they’d keep your form….distracted. You would be kept in the barn once the moonless night had begun, the sky within a period of tranquil dusk. She ghosted her hand across the rim of your shackles, and you were surprised they didn’t burn her like they did you. An Aegypius trait, you supposed.

Wanda had made you stew using that pot from earlier, while you hovered in the vicinity, chopping up carrot and onion into more manageable pieces. The meal was finished after it had boiled for a long time, and it was only when you sat down to enjoy it with her that a blink of movement would catch your eye. The bay windows curved in a beautiful shape that let the last vestiges of light in, and you’d register the sight of silver metal piercing into the glass before you heard it smash.

A figure leapt through its shattered remains, thick cloak blanketing their form to protect them from the glass. Their armor and longsword was polished beautifully, and they would be regal if it wasn’t for their war shout and barred teeth. You could see their face beneath their hood, just before the glint of their weapon as it’d slice down towards your chest.

You’d dodge, rushing backwards until your back hit the other end of the wall. As the longsword would finish its downward arc, Wanda’s magic would cradle its blade, her hands outstretched and bent as if trying to push it up. Her voice was strangled and thin, heard between the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, “run, Margo- go!”

Turning to bolt, you’d hear the clatter of boots against wood as a rougher hand would grab you by the scruff of your neck. Writhing in their hold, you’d shove your elbow into the ribs of your attacker, before grabbing their hand from your nape to sink your teeth into it. “Fuck, you гриф-” The knight’s heavy breath was audible from behind your back. You’d bite harder, feeling their skin break beneath your jaw as you’d thrash, trying to cleave flesh off. They’d tear their hand from you, kicking your legs with a force that sent you barreling down.

Your head would hit the hardwood floor, and you could hear the ringing in your ears as you’d look up, vision swimming as everything looked double. Your hooded attacker brandished their longsword with two hands above you, although it looked like they had four. Before they could stab the blade downward, Wanda’s hand would lurch out to their neck- pressing the kitchen knife into their throat as her other palm would scratch towards the knight’s eyes, the pair barreling backwards which left you an outside view that made your pupils retract into pinpricks.

The sky was dark, illuminated with bright swaths of stars. Tears pricked at your eyes. The few treetops you saw couldn’t even reach its height, blanketing the world in an awaiting gloom. You knew the moon was out there, but you couldn’t see it. Your mind reeled, thoughts growing famished as you’d stare into its expanse. You licked your lips. The sky offered you reprieve, and who were you to deny its feast?

The wheezing pop of bone into stronger sockets would startle Wanda and her assailant into a tense standoff, your witch pinning the stranger to the floorboards while the knight tried in vain to grasp at their longsword that had been kicked many feet away. Your breath heaved with strength you hadn’t felt before, seizing as the voice that came from you was no more than a guttural hiss. Your skull would reshape, mouth widening into a curved beak, hooking into serrated edges, while your skull would become angular, bird like. Anything but human, you were no longer recognizable. Feathers would blanket the creature’s shifting musculature, tearing from roughened skin as they’d fan into shape. Its arms and legs grow as its fingers would lengthen, bat-like wings creaking before they’d be covered in plumage; ivory white on it’s neck and shoulders, cascading into darker blacks and blues elsewhere. The monster’s feathers wouldn’t remain unpigmented for long, as they’d begin to warm on its skin- sparks flying from where they touched, growing into a burnt umber. The beast would groan as its wings crashed to the floor- bipedalism was no longer an option, the force cracking the wooden boards. Horns would thunder from shaking its monstrous head, the beast’s eyes blinking into pale gold with a crimson ring surrounding them. A black line of feathers ran down the side of its face and to its gaping maw, tufted at its chin. Its feathers had heated into shades of orange, flecked with flame- while cyan speckled where its temperature had reached an apex.

Silence would still the room, the shaky inhale of breath marking the presence of living beings in it’s fray. The demon would blink again, a gnashing sound emanating from inside its cavernous beak. It’d then raise itself on its haunches, spread its twelve meter wingspan (shattering the walls in its wake), and echo a deafening, reverberating call into the night.

The hunt had truly begun. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

~~~

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reinekes-fox · 1 year

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Interactive WIPs w Demo

Grey Swan I - Birds of a Rose

The Divine Flock. Some call them crazy, some even dangerous. Some even say the cult is hiding dark secrets. But, in all your life you have yet to find one. After all you should know should there be any dark secrets: you are a member after all! A member, not only of the Divine Flock, but also of the Avis Academy, the best school the cult has. Your life is quiet and follows a strict routine, at least until two Strays from the outside, the normal, world are allowed in the normally so closed off grounds and as a newly appointed Wing it is your job to keep an eye on one of them. With their arrival some of those dark secrets may finally come to light…

You ARE not playing as a BIRD!!!

DEMO https://dashingdon.com/go/13119

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Academia.

Moniker for MC: Wing MC.

Genderselectable MC: cis male or female, trans male or female. However due to growing up in a cult, MC wont know that trans is a thing/what it means, this is something MC can learn about. The same goes for sexual orientation: play as gay, bi, straight, aroace or ace, but be prepared for consequences.

Pick your level of devotion: be a devout follower of the teachings of the Divine Flock, reject it partly or wholly, or simply not care. All of it will have consequences.

Choose one of various school clubs, your volery, and get an unique storyline. Ranging from dance to school security, to managing your social media page.

Important people: Your flock, a group of younger pupils you were responsible for before the Strays arrived. You may not be their Wing on paper anymore, but you still hold a special place in their heart! They do miss you and are looking forward giving you a present on your birthday!

Your volery: whichever volery you joined, you are going to met pupils that are just as enthusiastic about your chosen interest as you are! Some more than others.

Your parents. It’s another question if the relationship between you is good, but important it surely is!

ROs: Fuchsia King

Chase Watson

Wing Droznik Juschka

Wing Astoria Rapace

-only for Peacocks: Marter

-only for Swans: Elrond/Estelle Falkenflug

-Vampire route: Sebastian Voss

-AMAB Raven RO: Marcel Rabenschlag

Grey Swan II - Hawks and Doves

Unless otherwise stated you are playing as a normal human! Two legs, two arms, internal organs, hopefully a brain too. We will see how much of this organ stays intact after state propaganda, will we?

Someone once said that you were the most happiest youth in the world after the Great Heartbeat, that had shattered the old world. Earlier you would have agreed in a heartbeat, wearing the light green uniform of your state youth organisation. But now? When war has come to Avistrions shores and news reels show only destruction ?

Choose your gender, way of thinking and stance while growing up in a religious dictatorship on the giant island Avistrion. Be a devout follower of the Divine Flock, the only thing that survived the earthquake that devastated the earth. Or be the Vulture, trying to rip it to shreds, while wearing the badge of youth leadership… where will you be when war strikes your so closed off country? Which side will you be on when it ends? Will you even survive long enough to see the outcome?

Moniker for MC: Fugol MC.

ROs

Agon Falkenflug Adler/Weihe Habichtklau

Johanna/Nikola Arra

Grey Swan III - Wisteria Birds

Wisteria Birds (fantasy, drama, angst)! Currently on pause.

You are beautiful, trained in art and music. You are deadly, trained in the unique weapons that no one except you can use. You are dying. Kept alive by the very same thing that keeps you save from others abusing their power over you… You have no rights. But you can do whatever you want, even kill, without having to fear any consequences. You are the most pleasant death that anyone can wish for. You are an artwork. And all you are supposed to be is look pretty, show of your owners wealth. But oh, you could become so much more…

You play as a highly specialised trained entertainer… an Artwork, expensive companion to the rich and noble ones in Aklant, a country with rigid rules and unspoken laws, strict class divide and obsessed with anything that shows how rich they are… or at least let them appear rich. Artworks themselves are outside of this all, freed from all those social chains, but not seen as human… maybe its time to change that? Or leave the status quo as it is, up to you!

Moniker for MC: Artwork MC.

ROs:

Fauconniers, your potential buyers:

Chevalier Armand Sanson Alexandre Desrosier Others, you may work together with one or more of them? “Mouette” Sanglant du Verdier

You have been a Hound, the human companion of a vampire, for years.

Until you find yourself among the undead and masterless after a night where everything went wrong… leaving you with no other choice but to move back in with your parents.

ROs (will expand)

Theo Grimm

Agent Rosa Caleb

Marian Viorel

Ghibli inspired! Mainly Howls moving castle.

You play someone from our world who ends up in another world! Since this is an aspect I greatly enjoyed in the book and was really sad they didnt include in the movie, there will be chances of jumping between the worlds (and of course becoming a magician too!).

ROs, some are locked into specific magic combinations:

Opera Job and changing into Animals: Santu Cajarin

Changing into Animals: Rosalind Eagledancer

#interactive fiction #birds of a rose #wisteria birds #if #cyoa #urban fantasy #dark academia #vögel der rose #low fantasy #hundsnächte #dog nights #citadel of dancing birds

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bloodynereid · 1 year

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Hi I just read little dragon, and I was just wondering if maybe this could become a mini series, or maybe have a part two. I just thought it was so cute and thought it would be nice to read more about Rhaenyra’s and Daemon’s daughter growing up with maybe some scenarios about her parents worrying after something serious happens but yk all fluffy 😅.

Anyway I hope you’re having a good day/night. 💖

Zaldrītsos - Little Dragon Part 2

pairing: sickly fem! sister reader x platonic! velaryon/targaryen family

a/n: hiii ty for your request! honestly i didn't think i would be writing up a part 2 but ur request prompted me to. so i think it keeps very similar to the request but i did add the bit about her claiming cannibal because of a comment on part 1. sry that this is so short but i felt it ended naturally where it did. anyways hope you enjoy <3

tw: dragons, daemon might be occ, talks about illness, talk about fainting, not really angst but there is fluff, worried parents (most rhaenyra in this one)

description: the weakest claims the greatest.

It was your 12th name day celebration and so your parents decided to allow you to go on a walk through the island, accompanied by your father of course. Even if you had lived on Dragonstone your entire life you had barely been out of the main castle’s wall. All because of the stupid condition that you had been afflicted with.

You had constantly grappled on why the gods would give a dragon such a weakness but your father just said it was to keep you close to them, which you personally thought was ridiculous.

As of now you were walking across the fields and balancing on the random rock formations when you felt it. A pull towards one of the caves. You carefully checked on where your father was sitting and he seemed to have dozed off as the pages of his book fluttered. A giddy feeling encased you as you made your way to the cave and took a step in. There lay the most magnificent and dangerous of dragons. One that had never been claimed.

Cannibal.

You took a few more steps and it seemed as if your movement alerted the great dragon of your presence since his eyes peeled open and looked at you with an ingrained viciousness but then it turned to something softer. Something familiar.

“Rytsas zaldrīzes. Iksan kesīr naejot letagon nykēla naejot ao.” Hello dragon. I am here to tie myself to you.

He answered back with a resounding huff and moved his head so it bumped against your hand. His warm breath tickled your skin as you stroked his snout. Then you heard your father’s voice echoing outside of the cave.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you? If you do not come out this instant I’m feeding you to Caraxes.” At hearing your father’s words Cannibal stiffens and a deep grumble comes from deep within his body.

“I am in here, father!” You shouted out of the cave’s entrance and moments later your father burst through the same entrance but suddenly stopped short when he realized his daughter was comfortably coiled against one of the most threatening dragons in the world.

“Ziry vestragon emā iā aōha zaldrīzes sir?” It seems like you have a dragon now? Cannibal only growled at him and nestled you closer to him, making you laugh at his overprotectiveness. You hadn’t even flown with him yet but you had already established a deep bond.

“Ziry iksos mērī ñuha kepa, ȳdra daor sagon nūmāzma.” It’s only my father, don’t be mean. Then you turned back to Daemon and gave him an innocent smile. “Mirre īlon jorrāelagon naejot gaomagon iksis sōvegon.” All we need to do is fly.

“Sȳrje, yn sagon ȳgha. Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skorkydoso kesan deal lēda aōha muña lo ao mōris bē morghe.” Very well, but be safe. I don't know how I will deal with your mother if you end up dead.

“Kirimvose, Avy jorrāelan.” Thank you, I love you. You carefully climbed onto your dragon’s back and ascended into the skies. You finally felt like you understood what the Targaryens stood for. You felt the strength of the ancestors pouring into you as you climbed into the heavens with Cannibal.

“You let her WHAT?!” Rhaenyra was standing in her shared bedroom, pacing as she watched the large black dragon that was carrying her precious child through the skies.

“Well you know how long she has been waiting to have a dragon of her own. I couldn’t say no.” Daemon said as he sat on one of the arm chairs watching his wife anxiously walk next to the window.

“Do you even know how dangerous it is for her?”

“Of course but we are Targaryens. We are born of fire and ride the greatest beasts in the world.”

“She could have a nosebleed and faint! And then fall off and die!”

“She’s safe.”

“How do you know? Does Cannibal even have a saddle?”

“Well… no.”

“You know what… I’ll deal with you later. She just landed.”

“See! She’s fi-”

“Sagon lyka!” Be quiet. Rhaenyra rushed out of her bedroom and ran through all the corridors in such a haste that the servants looked at her strangely. She finally made her way right outside Dragonstone’s gates and was relieved to see Y/N jump down from Cannibal and give him a little pat on his wing.

“Hello mother.” You said cheerily as you walked over to where your unusually distressed mother stood outside of the gates. She quickly enveloped you in a hug and gave you a kiss on the crown of your forehead.

“Never ever do that again. Understand?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you but father said it was alright and-”

“I’ll deal with your father later, for now why don’t we go have some lemon cakes and you can tell me all about your ride.”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you mother.” “Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dōna.” I love you, my sweet.

i miss writing for hotd might do it more often now.

#daemon x rhaenyra #team rhaenyra #rhaenyra is a great mom #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #lucerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #jacaerys targaryen

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lilaspose · 1 month

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avi’li and his parents, toki’to and avi

lore beneath cut!

From left to right: Toki’to (66), Avi’li (32), and Avi (68)

1. Toki’to was born in the Black Shroud, the second son and the sixth child in a large family. He took up the tradition of most Shroud Keepers and left to wander on his own when he was still young. It was not a kind lifestyle to him, and he sought to settle in Gridania, where he became an apprenticed carpenter. Still, he struggled to find community or kinship in Gridania until he met a young Keeper woman named Avi. They fell in love and Toki’to, having little reason to stay in Gridania, traveled with Avi across Eorzea. Toki’to is quiet, but attentive, with an anxious and kind heart. He’s happy his children have a family and community that will love them as he does.

2. Avi was born in Corvos, and was 10 years old when the Garleans invaded. Her family, along with a handful of other families, fled to Thavnair and further West by way of boat. They sought refuge in Limsa Lominsa, but were redirected south towards a coupling of islands beyond the Cieldales. Their group settled on the largest one, named Sostomi after a Lalafelan pirate captain who once called the island home. The experience of fleeing Corvos and traveling by boat for months and weeks at a time left a taste of travel and adventure in Avi, and she yearned to see more of the world for herself. She left for Eorzea when she was deemed old enough, and traveled across the continent for many years before she became pregnant with her and Toki’to’s first son, Aya. They returned to Sostomi together to raise their family in the arms of Avi’s loving community. Avi is adventurous and thrill seeking, and regularly acted out her adventures with her children. She does the same now for her grandchildren.

3. Though Avi’li writes often (excluding that time he was a fugitive in Ishgard, and excluding the time when he was traveling across the world to help end two occupations) but he’s sparse with the true details of what he’s experienced. How can he put into the words some of the horrors he’s seen? How can he bare to make them worry? Despite his best efforts, Avi and Toki’to know he keeps things from them, and they worry. Every day they don’t get a letter from Tataru, who now keeps them abreast of Avi’li’s wellbeing, is another day another one of their children might not return home.

#more avi lore #i have officially spent way too much time thinking about this lil family #please excuse that avi looks SO YOUNG i thought of drawing wrinkles on her in post but I am tired ;u;#avi’li sostomi #sostomi family #avi’li lore

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void-botanist · 11 months

Note

♾️ LETS GOOOOOO

— @outpost51

I added a bunch of stuff to my general rock playlist and my first shuffle song was Take It Easy by the Eagles.

I was like, maybe this challenge will help me get going on my Camp NaNo words for Nicea. Instead I wrote more Avis and Sorian, so here you and @vacantgodling go.

━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━

She didn’t want to drink alone, but her options were limited. Sid would be too busy living his life again to even be home, and he probably wouldn’t shut up about Horatio anyway. Leon and Edith were probably fun drunks, but with the same problem of having too much to say about their son, and the added danger of propositioning her. Celia and her two-timer weren’t her speed—and Celia didn’t drink, anyway. She tried to think of literally anyone else on the island she knew well enough to take a shot with, and came up with only one. Maybe she should have just gone to a bar. With a sigh, she packed the bottle of whiskey into her backpack and set out from the dock.

The walk up to the outskirts of the university was mostly paved, but almost always empty, especially at this time of day when the only light was from the streetlamps flanking the sidewalk. This was kind of pathetic. Despite the fact that Sorian was usually a goofy drunk, she didn’t really want to be having a drink with him. He was just the only one around to share her extremely choice liquor. Honestly, who the hell just had a brand new bottle of Salmon Leap in the cabinet? She believed Sid that Horatio hadn’t bought it in advance, but still. It was good shit, and she wasn’t convinced she should have accepted it. Not least because now she was standing on Sorian’s doorstep, banging on the unpainted wood of his door.

Maybe he knew it was her, because he wasn’t wearing sweatpants when he opened the door this time.

“You want a drink?” she asked.

“Ah, I was planning on staying in tonight.”

That was enough of a yes. She pushed past him into his boring little house and put her bag up on the counter at the back before she slipped off her shoes. He just closed the door and drifted over to her. Extracting the flat, rectangular bottle from her bag, she sat it on the counter and tossed her otherwise empty backpack over onto her shoes.

“Wait, is that…?” Sorian asked, taking the bottle in his hands while she looked through his cabinets for glasses. Before she could even answer, he said, “Oh, wow, I’ve been wanting to try this since Leon got Horatio some. He still hasn’t…never mind.” He put the bottle back down and went straight to the next cabinet on her docket to pull out two actual snifter glasses.

“So you’re pretentious about whiskey now?”

“It’s not pretentious. It actually makes it better.” Even with the glasses on the countertop he seemed to be waiting for her to open the bottle. As she went back to it, he added, “But you can have yours in a mug with half a berry slushy if you want.”

Of course he remembered that. She smiled a little despite herself as she tipped the bottle toward the first glass, then paused. “Since your fancy way is so much better, do you wanna pour it?”

“I think you can pour it just fine,” he said, but still took it from her when she offered it to him. He poured it in what looked like a completely normal fashion, then put the cork back in the bottle. Leaning back against the counter, he lifted one glass to his nose. Avis imitated him, not bothering to keep the skepticism off her face. But he was giving the other side of the kitchen a thousand-yard stare.

“Fuck,” he said softly. “Smells like home.”

She’d forgotten that she was actually supposed to be sniffing the stuff. He was right though—the fumes had a clear note of jojum blossom, like the air on Imni during the subtle change from spring to summer. For a second, it felt cozy. Then she was done with this sniff and sip bullshit. She was here to be intoxicated, not to think. While Sorian took a sip, she drank down however much he’d given her. It was enough to get the flavor of it, and enough that everything should stop feeling so serious in a few minutes.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she poured herself the same again.

She waved him away. “Shut up with your eyebrows. I’ll drink this one slower.”

He grinned and took another sip.

Taking stock of his living room, she found that nothing had changed since the last time she was there, which meant his bar stools were absent and there was nowhere to sit that didn’t look gross or busted. “Don’t you have anywhere nice to sit?”

“My truck, I guess.”

She gestured for him to lead her there. He put down his glass to slip on his shoes by the back door, and she did the same. Then he brought her out to the dimly lit silhouette of his shortbed university pickup truck. When he reached for the driver’s side door, he almost immediately turned back toward his house.

“Forgot my keys,” he said.

As he passed her, she unlatched the tailgate, then eased it down and hopped up onto it, letting her legs dangle off the end. “This is fine.”

He looked unconvinced but came to join her, still keeping that careful distance between them. “How is the tailgate of my work truck less dirty than my indoor sofa?”

“Trust me, your sofa wishes it was only as dirty as actual dirt.”

Sorian laughed his soft laugh and she felt like the warm ease of the whiskey was spreading through her faster. Sipping from her glass, she leaned back and drank in the mostly-familiar sky with its white-tinted moon. Even without the smell of jojum blossoms in this sticky Summer Band night, even sitting next to the man she used to call her husband, she had the inexplicable sense that she was already home.

#reminder that they are on Rade and there are climate 'bands' where it is basically permanently one season #they are from an island in the Autumn Band but this is the Summer Band #and two-timer means shifter not traitor #they're also not divorced - just good as #but anyway UGH I love these two losers #I have so many feelings about them. Avis would like to have less feelings tho please #Avis is convinced the sofa used to be the kind of place college students would do quickies. Sorian cannot convince her otherwise #gonna attempt another shuffle for Nicea lol #rose writ #infinity song ask game #ask games #c: Avis #c: Sorian #wip: aom #ss: salmon leap

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mcverse · 1 year

Text

Summary: Ao’nung dares Lo’ak to enter the forest alone. Lo’ak wasn’t going to back down from a simple challenge, but ends up lost. Someone helps him get back.

Pairings: neteyam x aviphoenix!reader, lo’ak x aviphoenix!reader, Ao'nung x aviphoenix!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Neteyam has a missing limb, Ao’nung being himself, Alone in the forest for those with Hylophobia

Side bar: Facts/information after the end of the chapter. You “meet” Lo’ak here. Not proof read. Oh and it’s third person, omniscient pov

“Text like this only in italics” are Na’vi.

“Text like this in both italics and bold” are Avi, spoken b/w Avi & outsides.

“Text in just bold” are also Avi People, spoken b/w Avi only.

Text like this without quotations in italics are thoughts.

“Text like this” are in English.

Avatar Masterlist

Previous/Next

High within the vastly blue sky, engulfed in misty clouds floated a hidden island. It was so discreet, without a spotter notifying the leaderships of it could have resulted in them traveling longer in search for shelter; who knows how long that would have been.

For such a well hidden place or now the lack of, the size was considerate. It matched that of five tulkun. Looking below it you can see the endless sea, waves surprisingly calm but that’s the beauty and scarifying thing about the blue waters — it can be calm one minute and destructive the next. And the distance from the land to there was unheard of. The fall can really do some damage.

Carefully, they descended toward it together, keeping a watchful eye at their surroundings, only to gasp when the landscape came into view. It didn’t seem possible, but it was unlike anything they have seen on pandora.

The flora here was vibrant and boomed in an array of bright luminous colors, even during the day. The sun doing very little to distinguish their light. Then a light wind passes over the land as they approach closer, bring along a potential smell that lingered in the air.

It did nothing but pull them deeper into its allure. It was a sensation that settled in their lungs with a tingle, which made them feel both invigorated and a little disoriented.

Finally, the Na’vi landed into a clearing further from the ledge. They dismounted their Ikran cautiously and allowed their feet to touch the ground. Again they were left speechless, the softness felt like the very clouds cloaking the land.

And the air, Eywa, the air was a lot thinner but somehow more potent in freshness, surpassing even the purity of the Hallelujah Mountains.

It felt different than any part of pandora discovered. They couldn’t shake the feeling that it was different yet familiar. All life had connection to Eywa, yet this one held a vibration of its own tone. It was calming, magnetic and peaceful.

It was almost too calm, leaving the Na'vi with mixed emotions. The beauty of the sight stirred a sense of uneasiness in their stomachs. Where was the life beside fauna ? A mysterious this land was.

To both it’s connection to Eywa and how it came to make them feel in the end, was a complete enigma. It’s almost felt like a fly trap drawing them into a false sense of security before swallowing them whole while they’re at their most vulnerable.

Jake Sully, sensing the Na'vi's unease, took the initiative and stood before the people. His body moving before his brain even processes, if the wars and his past leadership amongst the Omatikaya clan didn’t teach him anything else, this stayed.

The Metkayina, which were his people now, needed reassurance and though he didn’t hold the “crown” like he used to nor did he know the whole uncharted land, leaving was neither up for debate or an option.

"Okay," he says, locking eyes with Tonowari as he nods from within the crowd, a silent agreement to speak freely. Jake turns to face the waiting Na'vi and speaks, "We have enough food to last us until tomorrow. Then, we will hunt and explore the land in teams."

Upon seeing no protest, he walks over to his family who are standing a few feet away. His youngest daughter, Tuk, met him halfway, jumping slightly as he embraced her tightly in a hug. It brought him a sense of comfort to hold her, reminding him of why he was always fighting for their future.

Neytiri, his mate, approached with a stern expression and flat ears against her head, “I do not know about this island,” she says, her tail swayed slowly, yet aggressively behind her, betraying just how worried she really was.

Jake placed his daughter down before taking Neytiri hands in his, "I know," he says, "but for now, we have nowhere else to go."

Neytiri frowns but nods in understanding. She knows that Jake only has their best interests at heart, and that he is always looking out for their family and the Na'vi. Although the situation does not feel right at the moment, they must trust that this is where they are meant to be.

He leans in to place a kiss on her temple, smiling softly as she leans into it. The smile falls from his face as he turns to look at his youngest son, Lo’ak. Seeing his father's eyes on him, Lo'ak straightens his back and nervously swishes his tail behind him.

"Will you join the group tomorrow?" Jake asks him.

Lo'ak nods curtly, not trusting his voice as he tries to hide his rising excitement. He can't believe his father chose him. That means he saw him as a good warrior right?

He felt like he was imagining this interaction, but he was very attentive in this movement. True this was the first time he was personally picked given his troublesome nature… but it’s not the first time his father let him decide.

After the conflict with the Ash people, Jake underwent a transformation in his parenting style. He deviated from his typical cautious nature and allowed his sons to have more freedom of movement.

His confidence in their abilities grew as they proved their capability in both wars and successfully completed their rites of passage. Despite this newfound trust, Jake remained protective of his children, as any loving parent would be. He found a balance between giving them space to explore and grow, while still keeping them close enough to protect and guide them.

Jakes oldest son, Neteyam, eyes flicks back and forth between his father and his little brother. The annoyance on his face was clear as he took a step forward, ears flat against his head. He knew his father wasn't going to address him unless he spoke up first.

"Dad, I'm still a warrior," Neteyam press, attempting to catch his father's gaze. But Jake avoids eye contact and instead looks down at his son's body, his gaze lingering on the empty space where his left forearm used to be. A deep frown forms on his face, causing Neteyam to shift uncomfortably.

Neteyam couldn't help but feel frustrated. He knew his father still saw him as less competent because of his missing limb, but it wasn't his fault. He had fought bravely in the battle against the Ash people, and losing his arm was just an unfortunate consequence of war. He wished his father could see that and not hold it against him. It was a small sacrifice compared to if he lost his life.

Neteyam's right hand clenches into a fist as he continues, "I should be there too."

Jake acknowledges his son's words with a hum but remains silent. It's not until Neytiri nudges him on his side and gives him a pointed look that he meets Neteyam's eyes.

His expression is inscrutable, but his eyes betray his worry. Neteyam is his child, and he can't help but fear for his safety. "Okay...but be careful," he finally utters, patting his shoulder before glancing over his entire family.

"Why don't you guys find a place to set up camp?" he suggests, earning groans and reluctant nods from his family.

After scouting for a suitable location, the group finally finds a place by the trees and proceeds to settle in. As they unpack and organize their gear, Kiri, their eldest daughter, notices a glowing pink flower growing at the base of a nearby tree. She is immediately drawn to it, almost entranced by its beauty, but her brother Lo'ak interrupts her thoughts.

“What do you think this place is?” He asks, eyes switching from Neteyam and Kiri expectingly.

“Not sure… but it feels…. I don’t know.” Kiri finished, looking back at the flower to see it’s now closed instead of bloomed as before.

How strange… Kiri thought.

Lo'ak follows up with another question, "Do you think it's dangerous? I mean, it was hidden by the clouds. Like it didn't want to be found."

Neteyam listens to their conversation, shaking his head when he’s heard enough, “Bro, shut up. If it seemed that dangerous, I doubt dad would have stopped.” Their father wouldn’t willingly put them in harm’s way, not when that’s what he’s been avoiding for so long.

“Asking all these questions make you sound kinda scared, Lo’ak.”

The Sully siblings collectively rolled their eyes, they didn’t need to turn around to know that voice belonged to Ao’nung and where he went, Rotxo was close behind. They just knew he was up to something as he steps into their space, taking a seat and motioning for Rotxo to do the same.

As he sat there, a mischievous smirk played on his lips, and his eyes glinted with excitement. He couldn't resist the opportunity to rile up the Sullys, especially Lo'ak.

Lo'ak shook his head remembering his earlier statement, refusing to give Ao'nung the satisfaction of getting under his skin. "Keep dreaming, you skxawng." he retorted, trying to play it cool.

But Ao'nung wasn't done yet. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning back cooly, "Then you won't mind going into the forest?” he challenged, knowing full well that Lo'ak couldn’t pass up an adventure. He was more spontaneous than all the others, but his curiosity equally matched his siblings.

Lo'ak's ears perked up at the offer, interested in the idea of exploring the uncharted land first. He raised an eyebrow, mirroring Ao'nung's smirk, "Oh yeah?" he replies, accepting the challenge with a glint in his eye. "I’ll take that bet."

Neteyam stands up abruptly, glaring at Ao’nung then shifts it towards Lo’ak, “You’re going to get yourself hurt or worst, killed. Stop being reckless!” He was itching closer towards Lo’ak without knowing but before he could tower over him directly, Kiri’s dragging him back down to the floor with a shake of her head.

“I know the risk, bro. Don’t forget I’m just as mighty a warrior.” Lo’ak hisses, struggling to hide the annoyance in his tone, but slipped through to his face as he side eyed him. He turns back to Ao’nung, “For my bravery… you have to admit I’m a better warrior than you.”

Ao’nung smirk wavers slightly, he didn’t like that part. The day he admits that would be where Palulukan fly. In this case… it’s possible a miracle wouldn’t have to happen. He cursed himself mentally at setting himself up like this. But he was not one to cower, much less to Lo’ak. It’ll make him look weaker than just saying those few words.

His taunting smirk returns fully and he nods his head, “Deal.”

Lo'ak was a skilled forest Na'vi, having learned how to track from a young age. However, he seemed to have forgotten all of his teachings as he stumbled upon the same tree for the third time. Frustration and annoyance crept into his mind as he cursed under his breath and scratched his head in confusion.

The darkness of the night didn't make things any easier, and what was meant to be a quick 5-minute trip had turned into a prolonged 10-minute ordeal. Lo'ak glanced around nervously, the fear of being lost and stranded in the forest settling in.

He had waited until everyone was fast asleep before sneaking out, but now he regretted that decision. The clock ticked on, and he still hadn't found his way back to the campgrounds. Every direction looked the same, and he was starting to doubt if he would ever make it back.

This was typical of him, always finding himself in trouble. Lo’ak couldn't help but wonder if he would ever learn. However, he couldn't blame himself entirely—this forest was both similar and different to his old homes, making it easy to get lost.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed in a different direction, hoping that it wouldn't lead him back to the same spot. As he walked, his mind raced with thoughts he tried to push away. What would happen if he couldn't find his way back to camp? Would anyone come looking for him? Or would he be left to wander these unfamiliar woods forever?

One thing was for sure, he was going to make Ao’nung eat his words after this!

His thoughts faded away as he stumbled upon a breathtaking sight: a shimmering pond that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The colors of the water's surface were like nothing he had ever seen before, and the reflection of the stars above only added to the pond's majestic beauty. For a moment, he forgot all of his troubles and simply stood there in awe of the natural wonder before him.

Lo'ak was undoubtedly mesmerized by the stunning pond in front of him. He crouches to reach his hand into the water, where he saw how the ripples created a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to effortlessly blend together to create a single shade of blue. He couldn't understand how different shades of pink, purple, blue, and red could merge so seamlessly.

He settled himself cross-legged on the edge of the pond, unable to tear his gaze away from the water's surface. The sight was so captivating that it reminded him of how Kiri would often lose herself in moments like this. But this was different, a beauty beyond anything he had ever seen. Was this creation truly the work of Eywa?

Lo'ak was so lost in the making of the pond that he didn't notice the presence of another being. A Na'vi of the forest, with reddish brown eyes, observed him curiously as he gazed into the water.

The female Na’vi moved closer to get a better look at him. Her movements were so silent they could be lethal, but fortunately for Lo’ak, she was here merely to sightsee. Her body blended perfectly into the yinmn blue lush forest, except for the specks of gold that highlighted her skin like stars.

“I should get going.” Lo'ak muttered, but he didn't move from his spot. He was transfixed, almost hypnotized by the serene and peaceful atmosphere around him. Despite his previous concerns, he couldn't seem to find it in himself to be worried anymore.

He knew he should be cautious of his surroundings, but he just couldn't shake off the feeling of peace that washed over him in waves. It was strange and concerning, but at the same time, he didn't want it to end.

As you listened to him speak in traditional Na'vi, you couldn't help but wonder what brought him to the land of Avi People. You knew the language fluently, and it was second only to your own. It was a language that helped create a common tongue among your people, but you had never heard it spoken by someone outside of your tribe before.

The fact that he was here made you wonder if there were others like him, and what their intentions might be. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this encounter than just a chance meeting.

Your ears instinctively pinned against your head at the thought. You crouched low into one of the bushes to the left of the male Na'vi, with your tail tucked safely between your legs.

As you held your breath, you heard a snap, realizing that you had moved just an inch wrong. You looked down and sneered at the twig that had betrayed you. How could Eywa allow this to happen?

Your heart rate picked up as you slowly glanced up to see the male Na'vi standing, a knife withdrawn as he surveyed his surroundings now on alert.

Your mind raced as you mentally cursed yourself for making such a careless mistake. You pulled your body further into the bush, trying your best to remain hidden. The last thing you wanted was to be caught by him.

You knew that being caught would be bad, very bad. You only had a small knife, not much larger than his, and you were slower than most of your people.

You had limited experience in hand-to-hand combat and the thought of facing an attacker left you feeling apprehensive. You knew that resorting to violence was not the best solution and tried to remain calm, focusing on finding a way out of the situation.

As luck would have it, your eyes met with his. Five heartbeats passed before he narrowed his eyes in disbelief. There was no way that a Na'vi stood before him, but you were different. Your features, including your eyes, were unlike anything he had ever seen among his people.

Lo'ak immediately raised his weapon and lowered his body to the ground in a defensive position, baring his teeth with his tail stiff behind him. To him, you were a threat, someone different and unknown.

For a moment, he forgot his surroundings, that danger lurked in every corner of this land that was not his home. Lo’ak berated himself for being careless.

“Who’s there?!” he hissed, inching closer towards you, ready to defend himself.

You freeze momentarily at his hissed inquiry, your heart racing with fear and anticipation. "Tsa'nie![Crap!]" you mutter under your breath, quickly standing up and keeping his gaze with a quivering determination.

The stare down between the two of you is intense and uncomfortable, the air thick with tension as you both wait for the other to make the first move. You hold your breath, fully aware of the danger that looms over you.

Despite the threat that he poses, you take notice of his striking yellow eyes and imposing physique. He radiates strength and power, and you can't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration mixed in with your fear.

You quickly push those thoughts aside, knowing that now is not the time for distractions.

You refocus your attention on the Na'vi before you and notice that he, too, is taking in your appearance. You see his eyes roam over your body, taking in the way your skin shimmers in the night and the colorful crystals adorning your form.

Your beauty was as stunning as the serene pond in the background, and Lo'ak found himself transfixed by you. He struggled to look away, wondering if everything in this forest was as hypnotizing as you or if you were an anomaly like the pond. He remembered Norm's stories of anomalies, and now he felt like he was coexisting with one.

As he watched you, he realized that you were not a threat, but rather looked like a vulnerable animal caught off guard. He knew he shouldn't be thinking of you that way, but he couldn't help it. There was something about you that drew him in.

Hesitantly, Lo'ak lowered his knife to the ground and showed his other hand, palm facing upward, as a gesture of peace. He wasn't sure if this was a smart move or not, but he hoped it was something fascinating.

“I’m not going to hurt you—Hey!” Lo’ak's body jolted as he watched you turn and start to sprint away. He wasn't sure what came over him, but he found himself chasing after you, the knife now safely back in its hold. Despite his efforts, he was falling behind due to your unmatched speed.

As he ran after you, Lo'ak knew he should have taken the chance to run in the opposite direction, back to his original task of finding the camp. However, his curiosity had taken over. He needed to figure out who you were, where you came from, and what you were.

As the chase continued, Lo'ak began to realize that the speed at which you were moving was the least of his concerns. Your movements were so fluid and purposeful, as if you already had the entire layout of the forest imprinted in your head. With each leap and dodge, you weaved through the dense foliage with ease and grace, making it look effortless.

Meanwhile, Lo'ak stumbled and tripped over every obstacle in his path, too busy watching your every move to pay attention to his surroundings. He couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed at his lack of coordination. He was a warrior, after all, but right now he was grateful that none of his clanmates were around to witness his clumsiness.

You glanced back at him, your chest heaving with exertion, and couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with this persistent Na'vi. Did he want to fight? A low growl rumbled in your chest as the thought crossed your mind. If that were the case, you wouldn't have bothered running in the first place.

With a sharp turn, you darted down a narrow path, confident in your ability to lose Lo'ak. But to your surprise, he followed closely behind, moving too quickly to see the large branch in his path until it was too late. The branch smacked him in the face, sending him tumbling to the ground with a pained groan.

As you disappeared with another turn, Lo'ak lay on the ground, dazed and in awe of your speed and agility, completely disregarding the fact that he was alone once again. His curiosity about you had only grown stronger, and he knew that he needed to find a way to catch up and learn more about the fascinating Na'vi who had left him in the dust.

When you saw him drop, a satisfied squeal escaped your lips, and you felt a surge of pride in your chest at having finally lost him. You quickly sought refuge behind a large tree, keeping your gaze fixed on the direction he had tumbled. Finally, you could breathe and think in peace.

The Na'vi you had encountered was peculiar in both appearance and behavior. You had seen typical Na'vi in scrolls, and even some of your elders were still thriving. But this one had hair above their eyes, and five fingers - not characteristic of any Na'vi you had encountered before. Perhaps he was more like one of the startravelers who reside at Flamehaven.

What struck you as even stranger was the fact that he was alone. It was obvious that he wasn't from around here, as the only Na'vi were the Avi people. The possibility that he was lost tugged at your mind, and you started to feel bad for him. Maybe you had been too harsh on him, especially since he seemed to be surrendering before giving chase.

You knew you didn't want to interact with him directly, but you couldn't help wondering how you could help him. Where could his people be? You tried to think about where newcomers would stay.

And then it clicked. "Of course!" you exclaimed to yourself. It was so obvious. They would likely be on the other side of the island where there was less forest cover, making it open and easy to keep a watch out.

You made a mental note to inform your tribe about the encounter and the possible presence of newcomers on the island. Perhaps they would want to keep a closer eye on the situation. For now you had to figure out how to get him where he belongs.

You decided to quietly circle back towards Lo'ak, carefully formulating a plan in your head. As you arrived at the spot where you last saw him, you felt a sense of relief that he was still there, although, his expression seems to have changed. He appears more distressed and sadder than before.

Licking your lips, you took a deep breath and let out a soft, low coo, the same sound you used to track animals in the forest. Lo'ak's ears immediately perked up, and he looked around, searching for the source of the sound. You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of satisfaction that your plan was working.

Encouraged by the success of the first coo, you let out another one, this time a little louder. Lo'ak's eyes darted in your direction, and you quickly ducked behind a nearby bush to avoid being seen. You stifled a snicker, feeling pleased with yourself for successfully getting his attention without being detected.

You slipped further into the forest, staying hidden and careful not to make any noise that could give away your location. You continued to make soft cooing sounds, leading Lo'ak in the direction of his campsite. This time, you were more cautious with your movements, making sure not to step on any twigs or leaves that could alert him to your presence.

As you continued deeper into the forest, you noticed that Lo'ak was following the cooing sounds, his movements hesitant but determined. It was kinda cute seeing that look on his face…

Lo'ak was on edge, his mind racing as he tried to identify the source of the cooing. He knew it wasn't an animal, as the sound was too rough and unrefined. He half hoped that it was the female Na'vi from earlier, taking pity on him and helping him out. But at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that it could be someone else entirely, someone who could pose a threat to him.

To ease his nerves, Lo'ak unsheathed his knife, keeping it close at hand as he followed the scattered calls. The cooing seemed to be coming from all directions, making it difficult for him to pinpoint its source. He felt vulnerable, exposed in the darkness of the forest, and he didn't like it one bit.

Despite his initial concerns, Lo'ak couldn't resist following the cooing sounds that drew him deeper into the forest. He was desperate to find a way out and return to his family, but the night seemed to wear on endlessly as the mysterious sounds led him on.

As you led him further and further into the forest, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had a plan in mind, and it was working perfectly. Finally, you paused when you reached Lo'ak's campsite, gasping softly as you took in the many sleeping Na'vi around you.

For a moment, you were distracted by the sight before you, but quickly diverted your attention back to Lo'ak. He looked more relaxed as he stared at the campsite, but you could sense his eagerness when he turned back to the forest. His eyes searched it, hoping to see his mysterious savior, but finding no one.

Lo'ak felt a little disheartened that his helper had decided to stay hidden, but he was still grateful for the guidance that led him safely back to his camp. "Thank you," he murmured softly, lowering his head slightly before quickly leaving to rejoin his family.

As you watched him go, you couldn't help but groan as a sudden headache began to form in your head. The tension of the situation had caught up with you, and you realized how risky your plan had been. But for now, it would have to wait. You needed to find help and tell everyone what you had seen in the forest.

Things to know

Lo’ak isn’t with Tsireya. Though she exchanged her feelings to him, Lo’ak didn’t. He felt attracted to her but still felt conflicted and ultimately it just didn’t work out like they thought it would.

Neteyam lost his forearm in the ash battle. Jake feels slightly at fault for it even though it’s no one’s but the ash people. He doesn’t like Neteyam hunting or the like without someone because he’ll worry. Neteyam’s annoyed with his father, treating him differently. Now he had to work harder for approval.

Kiri likes Rotxo, Rotxo likes Kiri. They’re kinda still in the talking stages. Kiri’s kinda confused about what she wants and Rotxo just a patient bean.

Tuk is still 8, it just works!

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