Rerarlo's Writing

 You were running up and down the airship all morning, jumping over trading stock and running in-between people’s legs. You couldn’t help yourself, simply too excited to contain your energy. You were going to Mangkwan territory after all.

 Finally! After all these months you’d get to see your friend Varang again. Your tail flings about wildly as you watch familiar trees drift by while you fiddle with the woven bracelet she’d made for you. You grin like an idiot thinking about how Varang is wearing the one you made.

 It was Varang’s idea to make bracelets for each other. You smiled every time you looked down at it wrapped securely around your wrist. The woven hair and red plant fibres were a promise only you two knew about. The promise to become mates when you were of age.

 You won’t forget the day you snuck away from the Mangkwan Hometree and into a little root cave you’d discovered the year before. The same cave where Varang suggested this. 

 You had both turned your back to the other as you fished the woven accessories from the leather pouches you’d hidden them in. Then on the count of 3 you’d spun around and proudly held your creations up. 

 You teared up as Varang tied it onto you. She teased you for it, so you smacked her thigh in retaliation. She gasped in mock offence and tackled you to the ground. You screeched playfully, trying to bat her away and roll her over. 

 Wrapping a leg around her waist and bucking your hips finally allowed you to. She playfully hissed when you used your weight to hold her down. Then you promptly tried to shove leaves in her mouth. 

 She sputtered trying to spit them out. You ended up laughing so hard you fell over. Varang called you a moron when she finally got her mouth clean, giving you a little shove deeper into the dirt. You still couldn’t stop giggling. 

 Varang rolled her eyes dramatically, flopping on top of you. You stayed like that for a little while. Just holding onto each other. You had so little time with each other every year. But something just kept pulling you back together.

 You don’t remember a time when Varang wasn’t part of your life. Your earliest memory is asking your father when you’d get to see ‘Vara’ again. Both yours and her parents can attest to how attached you both are. 

 Apparently you gravitated to one another even when you were just babies, trying to crawl out the baby slings and to each other the first time you’d met. But each year you only got one single day and night. 

 It wasn’t enough for either of you. It never was. So you wanted to leave a piece of yourselves with the other. At first Varang had jokingly suggested you cut off a body part. You had smacked her shoulder then, as a soft reprimand. 

 Thats when she got to her actual offer. A lock of hair, woven with colourful plant fibres. And now here you are, able to stroke Varang’s hair even if you aren’t in her embrace. Sight of the neighbouring clan’s hometree snaps your attention back into focus. 

 This is it. Final stop before a few more days of travel. Days that you want to pass as fast as possible. You press a kiss to the bracelet, hoping somehow Varang manages to feel that you are near through the action. Just a couple more years and you won’t have to be apart. 

 You didn’t expect for this to be the day your world shatters. 

 You could barely get to sleep, simply too excited because you are so close to seeing Vara again. So you roll around in bed. Until you smell smoke on the wind. You bolt upright. It isn’t the smell of a campfire or somebody cooking late into the night. 

 You’ve smelled this before in the dry prairies. A wild fire. You shake your father awake frantically. His eyes pop open when he smells it too. You rush across the grounded airship, jumping off of it. Then you run up the hometree, climbing as high as you can. 

  You swing your head about wildly, looking for where it’s carrying in from. You silently pray to Eywa it’s not from the direction of the Mangkwan. Your prayers are not answered. 

 The faintly rising sun lets you see the smoke rising up from the direction of the Mangkwan’s forests. The wind which before was just something that would slow down your clan is now carrying ash from whatever disaster befell them. 

 Varang is there. Varang is in there, potentially running from the blaze. You don’t even want to think about the alternative. You climb down frantically. Both clans are now awake and in a panic.

- It’s coming from Mangkwan territory! - you scream out as you skid down a branch. Your feet burn from the friction. You keep running to the air ships as you hear the hushed conversation from others over the new information.

 There’s disbelief in their voices. As if they never expected anything like this to happen. The smell of the smoke has now cleared because of the wind changing direction. But you can’t get the memory of it out of your nostrils. 

 You beg your Olo’eyktan to go now. The Mangkwan certainly need help. You can’t stomach the thought of you standing idle while Varang is dealing with a wild fire. He holds council. 

 Council. Potentially hours of dilly dallying when the Mangkwan need help as fast as possible. You plead in front of the gathering, buzzing with anxiety. The Mangkwan need help now. Not when the Tlalim finally get off of their asses. 

 The decision reached shatters your heart. The Tlalim won’t go to the Mangkwan this year. Your clan would need to use recourses they don’t have to help the Mangkwan, even if you just arrive as a relief effort. 

 You screamed in anger, in indignation. How can your clan make this decision? Your father pulls you away from the gathering by the shoulders, all the while you are kicking and screaming insults of cowardice. 

- We can’t help them, even if they are in danger. They are days away. And chances are the fire isn’t even at their hometree. Face it, if it was that far away we wouldn’t have smelled the smoke. - His hands hurt as they dig into you. You can tell he is barely holding back his ire at you. 

- But-! - you start, voice frantic, tears gathering at your waterline. It’s been so long since you saw Varang. You need to see her, you need to make sure she’s okay. Even if the fire just broke out in-between the Mangkwan and this clan and it isn’t actually a danger to them. 

- No buts! We will go through our usual routes, and then circle back. As we always do. - your father interrupts you. 

- That’s next year! - you screeched in utter despair. - I’ve waited months! Months! 

 Before your father can retort you’ve torn yourself out of his grip and ran. Pa’li. You need to get on a Pa’li. You’ve learned to ride one before and this clan does keep them. It doesn’t matter if you are rusty with your riding skills. You need to get to Varang, something in the back of your mind is screaming at you to. 

 You can hear footsteps behind you but you don’t care. You just need to throw yourself onto a Pa’li and you’ll get the rest of the way to the Mangkwan yourself. You running in frightens the animals, but you manages to get yourself onto the back of one. You hold onto its neck as it frantically tries to buck you off. 

 The Pa’li runs. You don’t manage to keep yourself on it, instead slipping off and skidding along the hard ground on your side. You hiss in pain as you try to get up. Your arm gives out under your weight. You can smell blood as your father frantically tugs you upright. 

 You cry silently while your Tsahik is bandaging your wounds on the air ship. You had shredded off the skin on your entire upper arm during your fall. But the tears aren’t from the pain. It’s because you won’t see Varang. The adults around you are sure that the fire is nothing, that it’s just in their path and that the Mangkwan are fine.

 But there is a deep seated feeling within you that it isn’t fine. You can’t help picturing Varang fighting off flames as she runs, as she tries tugging injured people away from danger. You can’t get the smell of smoke and ash out of your nose. 

 That is the day you regret most in your life. The day you fell off a Pa’li once and that stopped you from trying more. It’s been years and you’ve heard of what happened to the Mangkwan.

 A volcanic eruption. Half of the clan died out in the initial disaster, more followed due to starvation. They were too injured and too weak to try and trek out of their territory to seek help. The survivors had renounced Eywa and turned to raiding as a form of survival.

 The first time you learned of this you cried the entire day. Nightmares of Varang’s burnt body plagued you. Or maybe she didn’t die in the fire. Maybe her death was slower. You don’t want to think of what else she might’ve become, even if it means she’s alive.

 You are an adult now. You look at the old bracelet, the one you’ve had to rework and repair so it’d still fit your wrist. A promise that couldn’t be fulfilled. The only part you have left of Vara. You feel hollow at the sight of it. 

 You have been urged by friends and family to take a mate for some time now. You really don’t want to. No matter who you consider, no matter how good of an option they are, you can’t drum up any feelings. 

 You’ve tried to give them a chance. Tried to have fun on your outings, tried to consider taking the courting gifts. But your heart aches and the bracelet brushes against your skin. 

 In the end you can’t accept the advances of anybody who tries to court you. It feels wrong. It’s unfair to the person seeking you out when you can’t stop thinking about your first love. An impossible love. 

 A whispering in the back of your head says it’s unfair to Varang too. After all you’d promised. Eywa, you are pathetic. Still clinging to a childhood crush, a girl you met only once a year. Yet you push on with life, trying to be useful while mourning what could’ve been. 

 The tragedy slowly got lighter to carry through the years, but you can still feel it tugging your feet down. Keeping you in the past. The nightmares are scarce now, but still there sometimes. 

 Last night you were unlucky enough for them to visit you again. It started as it always did. You fell off the Pa’li and it ran into the flames ahead of you, disappearing. Then the forest you came from faded, everything was engulfed in creeping lava and flames. You heard screams, pleas for help. 

 Usually at that point you’d see Varang, the same as you remember her all those years ago, running towards you with fear in her eyes. Her now small hands outstretched and begging for you to help.

 But this time you saw a tall and imposing woman. The fire shadowed her features but you knew she was looking at you. Her eyes looked like they were carved from the blaze.

 She stepped forward slowly, stalking you through the flames. A chill ran down your spine, instinctive fear. Run. Something primal in you whispered. Run before she catches you. She won’t let go if she does.

You took off through the destruction, the woman hot on your heels. She pursued unimpeded by the hazards, moving like she was ethereal while you were tripping over your own feet and the corpses on the ashy ground.

 The woman screamed your name in a voice you did not know, grabbing hold of your braid and tugging your head back violently. You jolted awake, scrambling upright and gasping for breath. You were shaking. Why were you shaking? 

 You try to calm your breathing before you wake somebody. Deciding to get up and clear your head. A brief walk around the airship and wind on your face should do you some good.

 The sun has barely risen over the horizon when you lean against one of the ship’s supports. You let the newborn light gently settle on your face, closing your eyes.

 Your clan is on a route that is nostalgic and melancholy. During your childhood after you passed the mountains you would’ve gone east, towards the Mangkwan. Nowadays you veer to the south. 

 Maybe it’s the memories this route brings causing you nightmares again. Pushing your past failure to the forefront of your mind. Your eyes open gently and slowly, trying to keep the strengthening light out of your face. 

 There’s…some shapes against the sun. Silhouettes that cause your head to tilt and eyes to squint, trying to identify them. It looks like a flock of Ikran. But there is something odd. There is a larger shape among them, front and centre.

 It looks like a battle formation. And is…is that smoke trailing from them? Or a trick of the light? Maybe you have been looking at the sun a bit too long and your eyes are playing tricks on you. 

 But there is a sinking feeling in your stomach. Your heart is beating faster than it should, and your fingers gravitate to caressing the old bracelet which suddenly feels too tight. The shapes are getting closer. You rush into the sleeping area at the core of the structure without any more thought. 

 You shake awake the first person you see, one of the navigators. But before you can explain what you saw fully, how you have a bad feeling about this- The ship lurches. And then starts descending, like the medusoid has been popped.

 You smell smoke and freeze. Were you being…attacked? The navigator is quicker on his feet than you, yelling at the top of his lungs and waking everybody else.

 You try grabbing your bow from where you hung it in the commotion of people running about. Then everything goes sideways as one side of the gondola catches on the cliffs and drags against it.

 You lose your balance and crash against the opposite wall. You can hear the distressed cries of the windray as its being dragged down while you try to scramble upright. There’s ikran screeches and battle yells outside too. What in the name of Eywa is happening?

 You can hear the sizzling of fire and feel the scraping of the hull against the rocks. Everything is in disarray. Thankfully you manage to find a stray knife to defend yourself with as you climb out of the sleeping area. 

 The moment you are in the open and upright you hear somebody jump down behind you. You barely turn around in time to lock blades with your assailant. Red, white and black paint covers his body, with painful looking piercings scattered in a somewhat orderly fashion.

 Your eyes widen in realisation and fear. You are being attacked by Mangkwan. This is new, the Mangkwan haven’t tried raiding the Tlalim before. Only the neighbouring clans and hunting parties as far as you’ve heard. How desperate are they?

 Your opponent surprises you by not pressing against your weapon anymore, allowing you to fall forward towards him. You barely keep yourself upright on the nearly sideways structure but you catch your balance in a crouch. Unfortunately he managed to slice at your upper arm during your fall.

 You keep the noise of pain behind your teeth, quickly driving the knife into the back of his knee. He falls with a pained yell, you tug the weapon out of his skin at an odd angle. The raider is now on his knees beside you, barely balancing as the gondola keeps rotating. 

 For a moment there is a stupid thought running through your mind. You want to ask this man if Varang survived. You want to hold the knife to his neck and interrogate him. You don’t get the chance. 

 The ship stops its slow descent for a moment. It had briefly landed on an outcropping in the mountain side. The sudden stop of inertia makes you lose your shifty footing. Then the gondola fully flips. 

 You can’t find a way to hold onto the structure so you fall out of it. Your side slams down onto a rock, knocking the breath from your lungs. You slide down the rocky mountain side clutching your side, unable to stop your descent no matter how much you dig your feet into the rough surface. You feel every loose pebble digging and slicing at your skin.

 After your fall you are left within the dense vegetation at the base of the rising cliffs. There are various bleeding scrapes all over your body and your side is already bruising. At least you didn’t fall directly on your ribs, you definitely would’ve broken them if that was the case. 

 There is debris from the airship all around you. It ended up getting wedged between two cliffs above you, the trees that manage to grow within the rocky soil helping hold it there. 

 You need to move. No matter how much you regret not helping the Mangkwan and how much you want to offer help now you need to leave. If they are desperate enough to attack you don’t think they’ll hesitate to kill you. 

 So you begin pushing yourself up, your legs and arms try buckling several times but you manage to use a branch to pull yourself onto your feet. You cast a worried look above you. The fire on the gondola is spreading and embers are falling down.

 The Mangkwan are swarming the structure on their ikran too, trying to see what hasn’t fallen down and who is still on it. You hear the ship creek loudly as something bigger settles upon it. It takes you a moment to remember the name of the creature you are seeing.

 A Ska’avum. You remember Vara telling you about them one day, when you were very little. She had made a slightly shoddy weave to represent the creature and was showing it to you. You remember her sheer admiration for them.

 You are snapped out of your thoughts as a body falls in front of you with a sickening crack. You jump and barely suppress your screech of fear. You recognise her as one of your people. But that isn’t the most frightening part. 

 The woman’s head is twisted around unnaturally, the front of her torso is facing towards you by her face isn’t. The angle unfortunately gives you a perfect view of something you never wanted to see. 

 Her kuru is cut, you can see it still dripping blood. You muffle your own scream of anguish against your palm, tears already streaming down your face. Moving backwards on autopilot despite the pain in your entire body.

 You knew the Mangkwan had rejected Eywa, but cutting off somebodies kuru? What kind of monsters had they turned into? Had Varang become a monster too? You pray she hasn’t. 

 Then something tugs at the back of your brain, a sinking feeling in your gut causing you to look up. There stands the woman from your dream, she’s holding the severed kuru and looking straight at you. Her stance is confident and imposing, made even more frightening by the headdress that makes her look venomous. 

 You know she can see you, you’ve locked eyes after all and hers are wide with an emotion you cannot place. Run. Something begs you. You have to run. So you do. You take off despite the pain of your injuries, despite the sharp rocks digging into your feet. 

 You hear a gruff sound, a verbal command for the raiders to chase you down. You keep running, not looking back once. Hearing your pursuers on your trail and ikran calls through the canopy gives you enough information.

 Unfortunately no matter how much you try to push through you are still dragging your feet compared to the Mangkwan. And you aren’t paying attention. 

 A bola wraps around your knees tripping you. The inertia causes you to roll over yourself. You can already feel that your neck is going to be sore from it. You end up on your back, with a spear pointing right at the hollow of your throat.

 Your arms lay limply at your sides as your breathing stutters in fear, exertion and pain. The raider holding the weapon to your neck snickers down at you, hissing and pressing the tip just a bit closer. Just enough to draw blood while you try to press yourself further into the rocks and dirt.

 Your pursuers openly laugh at the fear in your eyes. You want to cover your ears but you don’t dare more. The only gesture of comfort you allow yourself is wrapping your tail around your thigh. 

- Look at her! So frightened she has wrapped her tail around herself like a child! - a shrill voice calls out from the side, before dissolving into mean laughter. Your ears pin back, both at the painful sound and out of shame.

 You bare your teeth anyways. The only sigh of defiance you are comfortable with expressing. The spear goes just a bit further into your skin, you hiss in both pain and an instinctive attempt at scaring them off. 

 You wheeze as your assailant dares to step on your chest and put their weight on you. Your hands twitch, wanting to grab their ankle and throw them off of you, but the spear is a good deterrent. 

 Just as you are shooting them the dirtiest look you can muster under these circumstances their head turns to the side. The raider’s posture stiffens, no longer loose and playful. 

 You turn your head in the direction they are looking and see that woman, the one that spotted you. She moves over quickly yet gracefully, the raiders clearing the way around her, their movement reverent.

- Tsahik. - Your assailant inclines their head, tail and ears lowering in submission, but the woman pays them no mind.  There is something vaguely familiar in her eyes when your gazes meet again. It looks like cautious recognition. 

 She is not the Mangkwan Tsahik you remember, she is far too young to be. If you had to guess, you’d assume the imposing woman was around your age, but the paint makes it hard to tell for certain.

 The Tsahik circles you once, then twice. Eyes sweeping all across your form, finally settling on the bracelet. The one Varang gave you. You try to move it out of her sight, try to hide it underneath your other hand. 

 A low hiss from the raider on top of you has your movements still. The woman’s tail cracks at the air in displeasure. You can’t tell if your movements or the threat prompted that reaction but your assailant stills, like they themselves are frightened. 

 Their Tsahik waves them off and the raider obediently pulls the spear tip out of your skin, allowing blood to pool at your clavicle. The painted woman’s eyes widen. Despite not knowing her the slight expression of concern is familiar to you. Why is it familiar?

 She crouches next to you and you slightly push yourself up onto your elbows, just to keep her in your sight. She grabs your wrist, the hold isn’t gentle but it isn’t overly cruel either. You involuntarily curl your legs closer to your body in anxiety.

 She’s looking at the old gift closely, inspecting all the little repairs and extensions you have made to it. All just so you can keep holding onto a now dead and meaningless promise.

 You think she might be considering taking it. The way her eyes sparkle at the sight of it certainly makes you think she’s found some sort of wonder in the old accessory. You know damn well you’ll fight if she tries, doesn’t matter if you are surrounded.

 Then her grip loosens and she speaks your name in an almost whisper, like she can’t believe that sound is coming out of her mouth again. Your eyes widen in fear and surprise. How…how does she know your name? 

- I found you. - a toothy smile splits her face, one you almost recognise. But there is too much teeth in this one, the tilt of her lips is too cruel, and there is some sort of madness behind this woman’s eyes. 

- What…? - your voice is small and trembling. You don’t know this woman, so why does she know you? Is it just somebody else you befriended from the Mangkwan? No, no that can’t be right. Vara always got huffy when you spent time with anybody but her. 

- No time for reunions. Not right now. - the woman looks miffed for only a second before her grin stretches wider. In the next moment she’s taken some sort of horn from her belt and a small container. You try to scoot back, forgetting you are surrounded until you feel a sharp point at your back. 

 You watch in anxiety as she pours powder into one end of the horn. Your eyes jump all over the place, looking for an escape route. The raiders have closed some of the distance. Being crowded by both them and their Tsahik makes you feel claustrophobic.

 You jolt when she settles one end of the horn at your nostril. You try to tilt your head away but she grabs your braid at the base and you freeze. Your hands dig into the rough dirt and grass under you, trying to keep yourself from doing something that might set this woman off. 

 She giggles sharply at how you are pleading with her using only your eyes. She looks almost gentle as she does. Then she blows into the implement. Whatever that powder was shoots up your nostrils and makes you cough uncontrollably. 

 You lurch forward into the mad woman’s hold involuntarily. Her arms wrap around your back, stroking up and down your spine and over various cuts and scrapes. You vaguely register her cheek rubbing into the top of your head while you try to breathe. 

 You hold onto her, seeking the only source of comfort around you when your vision starts getting speckled with black dots. You have no idea how hard your hands dig into her skin but you are absolutely terrified as your vision grows darker, and darker. The last thing you feel is your body going limp.

-

 Varang is simply ecstatic. She thought that those stripes looked familiar, that those eyes did too. The bracelet just confirmed it. It was you. This raid couldn’t have gone better. 

 The Mangkwan have supplies, they got some payback for the Tlalim not even trying to help them. And she’s got you, knocked out and securely gripped in Nightwraith’s talons as the raiders fly home. 

 She didn’t think she’d see you again, or that she’d be able to recognise you. Varang was convinced that after all these years apart you would’ve moved on, started a family with somebody else. 

 All her thoughts of finding you centred on how she’d take revenge on you for abandoning her, for abandoning your promise. For the scar that still ached on her wrist when she thought about you.

 That was the plan at least. But when her wrist stung sharply and she looked down at it, Varang saw you. And you saw her. The fear in your eyes didn’t make euphoria rush through her veins like with her other prey. But it did make her want to chase. 

 So she sent her raiders after you like hounds. The moment she spotted the bracelet her plans of torture and revenge were tossed aside. You still wore it. No courting gifts she could spot on you either. 

 There was only one explanation in Varang’s mind. You were waiting for her to find you. Waiting for her to take you. She obliged. Finally, finally Varang had you. 

 No more looking for women that looked or acted just enough like you for her to have a fun night with them. For her to take her stored aggression out on and leave battered and bruised. Being able to lay you down on her furs where you belonged quelled that rage. 

 But something still tugged at Varang’s brain, still made the scar ache. There was only a fraction of recognition in your eyes. You hadn’t realised it was her yet. If she still knew you then you’d try to run if you weren’t restrained. 

 She refused to see you slip from in-between her fingers again. She couldn’t keep you tied down when you were children, and all that lost time left a pit in her heart. Made her monopolise every bit of your time that she could. 

 No. Not again. She refuses to wait for scraps of you ever again. You won’t fly away from her this time. That Varang would make sure of.

-

 You wake up bound, that isn’t a surprise. Your wrists are tied together with rope, another length of it secures you to a leather yurt’s support pillar, it gives you a surprising degree of free movement. 

 But what does surprise you is that you aren’t tied up painfully, outside like an animal or on the cold hard ground. No you have been set down on a comfortable fur bed. Your wounds are wrapped and tended to, even if they still ache. And also the Mangkwan’s Tsahik is gently caressing your cheek while sitting by your side.

- Hello. - she speaks softly to you, fingers playfully tapping your nose. A sense of deja-vu takes over. That was something Vara used to do. You don’t back away when her hand resumes its soft touches to your face. It feels like she is trying to reassure herself you are real.

- W-who- ..are you? - you need to clear your throat before you can finish the sentence, throat dry and nose still itchy. 

- Varang. - the woman speaks, your eyes widen in shock. Varang has been right in front of you and you didn’t notice? You almost can’t believe it. But then you look closer at her face, beyond the paint, and you find familiar features. 

 You can’t help but tear up. Your tied hands try to grasp her wrist, you look into her eyes. To see if it’s a lie. 

- Do not cry little bird. We are back together now. - Varang lowers herself, so she’s laying on the furs with you. Her forehead settles against yours in a comforting gesture while her arms snake around your form. You know she’s telling the truth the moment she uses that old nickname.

 She started calling you that when you were young. ‘Little’ because she loved to tease you about anything and everything, and ‘bird’ because you kept flying away from her. When you heard her explain it you thought it was sad. But Vara loved using it. 

 You tug at the restraints on your wrist, wrapping your legs around her as best you can. She is alive. Your Vara is alive. But she is a killer. A monster who cuts people off from Eywa in the worst way you can imagine.

 You can’t help but sob at the thought even if Varang tries to hush you, to reassure you it’s alright. You shove your head under her chin, hoping to at least muffle your cries into her chest. Rationally you know you should be flinging your body back from her. But she is alive.

- I know I scared you, my love. I know. I will not hurt you. - her hands keep caressing your form, in an attempt to soothe. She nuzzles her face into your head, scenting you. A deep, strong purr, rises from her rib cage. 

 ‘My love’ you have enough awareness to latch onto those words. It feels…fake to hear them. Like you were never meant to hear them directed at you. Especially from Varang, what you had with her was supposed to be over. 

- Why…why did you call me that? - you manage to get out between your tears. You pull away just enough to look at Varang’s expression. It’s one you know well. One Vara always gave you when she realised she was a couple steps ahead of you and was unendingly smug about it. But today it was mixed with gentleness. 

- You still wear our promise bracelet. We are of age now and back together. You are my mate. - Varang said it like it was a simple fact, like stating that the sky is blue. You stare back at her, dumbfounded. That was…an insane line of thinking. Utter madness.

 You might still wear the bracelet but it long since ceased to feel like an engagement to you. It only felt like a memory of simpler times, of your old friend Vara, of how you’d let her down. And now she’s back in your life, claiming you as her mate within mere hours. 

 But you don’t dare voice your thoughts. Deep down you are aware, even if you can read her movements and expressions, you don’t know this woman. Not anymore. She might be Varang, but she is not your Vara. She is all that was left of her after the tragedy. And she is dangerous. You need to be smart about this.

- …where is yours? - you ask her. If she is putting so much importance on you wearing the bracelet, where is its twin? You can’t see it anywhere on her. The slant of Varang’s eyes suddenly turns sad, and you begin to regret asking.

- It burned. - she holds up her hand in front of your face. The movement is slow and sorrowful, you catch a bit of shame in the folding of her ears. If you pay enough attention to the area where the bracelet was, you can see the old raised and stretched scars under the paint.

 Your promise had provided perfect kindling to forever seer itself into Varang’s skin. You hold onto her wrist as best and as gently as you can while caressing the long since healed wound. You can feel the guilt compressing your lungs. 

- I am sorry. - you can’t help but say that. Even if you didn’t mean for the bracelet to catch fire, even if you didn’t make the mountain erupt. You still didn’t get to her in time, you weren’t there to comfort her as a piece of you hurt Vara so badly. You weren’t there to prevent her from turning into this…

- What for? - Varang’s head tilts curiously, sliding her hand down your grip until she can absentmindedly play with your fingers. She acts so casual about this situation, like she didn’t just attack your people and kidnap you.

- For not getting to you. - there are things you carefully don’t say. Sorry for not finding you sooner. Sorry for not getting you out of here. You know that if you said that she wouldn’t take it well. Vara never took it well when you over apologised.

- You can make it up to me. - Varang says slyly. Grin playful and flirtatious. She cups your face and leaves a small kiss on your nose. Then around your mouth. You jolt at the feeling of her lips on your skin. 

 It’s easy to tell what she wants, but you are nervous. You- you actually haven’t kissed anybody yet. And the realisation of what Varang is about to do makes your skin flush. It makes your heart race in fear.

- Relax. It will feel good. I will make sure it does. - Varang reassures you. It starts off gentle, just a little press of her lips against yours. Then another, longer meeting. You begin trying to clumsily reciprocate.

 She giggles into the kiss for a moment, and then the next she is trying to get you to open your mouth, to let her in. You sheepishly do, eyes fluttering closed. You gasp in surprise while Varang moans into you when your tongues meet. 

 The sensation is weird and foreign, sometimes your teeth knock together painfully. But you don’t have space to pull away with Varang cradling your skull. You involuntarily whine as she explores you. You don’t know what you should be doing.

 Do you lay there and take it? Do you try to put your tongue in her mouth? Do you chase her tongue around your mouth with your own? You end up trying to turn the tables, trying to take over the kiss and explore her in return.

 The moment you do her teeth snap closed around the appendage. You yelp in pain and pull it back. Varang gives you a light hiss before she continues what she was doing. You whimper when you taste your own blood, Varang groans when it meets her tongue. 

 Varang shifts your positions, not stopping the kiss once while she does. She moves you onto your back and straddles your hips. You gasp for air when she finally moves back enough for you to do so. Her smile is almost dopey as her purring reverberates in your chest.

 You shakily wipe away the stray spit from around your mouth. The space between you both is hot and heavy and you tilt your face up in an attempt to get some fresh air. 

  Varang takes it as an opportunity to lick and bite your neck. You try to push her away, she doesn’t relent. She sinks her fangs into your skin, not enough to leave a bloody wound, but enough to bruise.

 Your face screws up in discomfort. Discomfort which is not eased by Varang littering apology kisses and soothing licks across the bite marks she left. Varang barely manages to detach herself from your throat.

 Varang looks very self satisfied when she nuzzles her forehead against yours. Looks like she is admiring her handiwork upon your skin. Then her hands sneak under your top. You squirm when her fingers brush against your breasts. 

- Varang- What are you-?!  -  you can’t help but yelp when she tugs the ties of the garments apart and tosses it somewhere to the side. She immediately starts kneading at your flesh, littering sharp bites and messy licks across your chest. 

- It is alright. Be calm. - her attempt at keeping you calm does not work. You are decidedly not a fan of the feeling of her hands squeezing at your breasts or her teeth teasing your nipples. Not only that but now you are truly seeing where this is headed. 

 You try to move your hands in-between your bodies. She is moving too fast for your liking. You just got reunited a bit ago, and you haven’t even fully come to terms with your situation. 

 Varang hisses at your attempt to block her, her head rising and showing her bared teeth right in front of your face. She slams your bound wrists against the bedding and adjusts the length of rope you have away from the pillar. Now you can’t even bring your hands to your head.

- Varang! Please-! - you can’t help but panic when she restrains you more. You freeze and hold your breath in terror when one of Varang’s hands settle on your throat. She is holding firmly but not squeezing yet. Suddenly the memory of her holding a severed kuru springs forth in your mind.

- Shhh, you are my mate. I have waited too long for this. For you. - Varang’s voice is gentle when her words and actions aren’t. Her bites are sharper now, leaving nicks across your body as she gets back to marking you up. 

 She starts tweaking and nibbling at your nipples and you grit your teeth. Your knees jump up to hit her in the back without your input. She hisses, louder now, and her hand constricts. 

- I do not want to hurt you little bird. But if you keep fighting you leave me no choice. - the pure fury written on Varang’s face terrifies you, Your ears are glued against you skull, and your tail is trembling where it’s wrapped around your leg. 

 Her grip is painful, almost crushing your trachea. Your attempted breaths sound out in little squeaks as your lung desperately try to bring something into themselves. Varang only lets go when your chest spasms. 

- Lay back and let me have you beloved. - there is not even the tiniest spark of regret in her gaze as you cough. She kisses away the fearful tears gathering at your waterline in an attempt to be gentle again. 

 You are now full body trembling underneath her. Truly restrained and terrified. If something so simple as denying her sex can make her choke you, what else is she willing to do to you? 

- Do not shake! It will be fine. - Varang’s frustration at how you are acting leeches into her tone, even as she tries to soothe you. Your nails dig into your hands and you hide your face in the crook of your elbow when Varang tugs down your loincloth. 

 She moves down your body slowly, kissing down your stomach, You can’t help but shudder at her touch. You don’t want to let her part your thighs, but you also don’t want her to choke you again. You don’t want another reminder of how cruel your Vara has become. The image of her holding the kuru is already seared into your mind.

 So it’s a challenge not to struggle when she settles between your legs and lightly runs her nails up and down the sensitive insides. Your hips involuntarily jerk away from her mouth when makes the lightest lick at your slit. You are grateful she only grabs your hips to keep them in place.

 Your breath is shaky as Varang licks deeper, her tongue making direct contact with your clit. The sensation is foreign to you. You try not to slam your legs shut when Varang uses her thumbs to spread your folds open, allowing her tongue to explore more freely. 

 It does feel good. But that doesn’t make the situation better. If anything…you think it makes it worse. Because now on top of trying to stay still, you are biting back all your little sighs of pleasure and small moans. 

 That is until Varang sucks your clit into her mouth, her teeth poking at the sensitive nub. It causes your hips to buck right into her and a whimpering screech to escape your throat. You don’t expect Varang to moan into you in response. 

 You want to crawl into a hole and die there as you feel your slick starting to gather, starting to drip. Varang notices and dives into your cunt, trying to get a taste of you from the source. You try to shuffle back, trying to dislodge her appendage from your rarely used opening.

 You barely register your head flinging back in response to the stimulation. You usually got off with only rubbing at your clit, not feeling a need to stretch yourself open on anything. So having something enter you so abruptly is startling, and a bit painful. 

 Varang now has to hold your flailing thighs in place as she adds to your torture by rubbing at your bundle of nerves with her fingers. Your wrists ache as you tug down on the ropes. This is too much. 

 Your orgasm sneaks up on you, your back aching in response as your thighs finally manage to squeeze around Varang’s head. She whimpers into you when you clench around her tongue. She continues her ministrations, forcing you to ride out your pleasure. 

 You drop limp when she finally stops. Soft tremors wrack your frame as Varang licks up the slick around your thighs and her mouth. You can’t help but whimper in fright when Varang moves up your body. But you don’t dare move a muscle and Varang decides that’s permission to kiss you, to fill your mouth with your own taste. 

 She sighs into the kiss, like some heavy burden is finally off her shoulders. She moves back a little, cupping your face and looking you right in the eyes. What you see scares you. There is so much love and adoration in her gaze, but also obsession. Like you are prey she has finally managed to run down.

- You did so good for me. - the praise feels wrong to hear under the circumstances. But it also comforts you somehow. Varang nuzzles her forehead against yours, and then lays a soft kiss there. 

 It’s odd how she can be so soft and gentle one moment, then threaten and hurt you the next. It nearly gives you whiplash. Varang softly runs the tips of her fingers over your lips, it tickles and you move away abruptly on reflex. Her gaze hardens for a moment and you cautiously press your mouth back against her fingers. 

 Her body loosens, clearly pleased. She pushes her fingers past your lips, past your teeth, presses down on your tongue. You aren’t sure what she wants from you. But she starts retracting them, and then pushing back in. She repeats the motion, her digits getting covered in your spit. You try not to flinch or gag when her nails almost brush the back of your throat. 

- Suck. - Varang says in a breathless moan. Ah, so thats what she wanted. You comply, sucking at her fingers when she pulls them back, and trying to relax your throat when she pushes back in further. Varang fully groans at the sight, a stuttering purr in her chest. - Good girl… 

- I felt how tight you are. Nobody has been inside you, right? - Varang pulls her spit soaked fingers away from your mouth, instead using them to tease at your entrance. Dipping just slightly into your slick covered walls before pulling away.

- I- no…nobody has…be gentle…please Vara. - it is true, you haven’t been with anybody yet, too scared to accidentally lead them on when you had no intention of actually getting into a relationship. You thought that maybe one day you’d find somebody that would just click with you again, like Vara had. But now the only thing you can do is beg Varang to not make your first experience anymore hellish than she already has.

 Her eyes widen when she hears the nickname, ears perking in wonder as her jaw drops the tiniest bit. She leans down and smothers her moan against your breasts, continuing to bite and tease them as her fingers push into you. It’s only two thankfully.

 You grit your teeth when Varang starts actually fucking you with them. It’s slow at first, feeling you out, getting familiar with the shape of you. Then she starts looking for the spots that make you whimper or the ones that make your hips buck towards her. 

 Slowly her movements get faster, she starts spreading her fingers apart to stretch you open. Varang keeps near viciously hitting the spot that forces a gasp or moan out of you every time. She’s looking up at you, pupils so dilated you almost can’t see the yellow of her irises. 

 You can feel yourself tightening this time as you get closer, clenching around Varang’s fingers. You shriek when she suddenly plunges a third one into your pussy. You want to say something about it. Tell Varang that you pleaded for her to be gentle, not to make you take three. Not to make your cunt stretch so far the friction from her pistoning in and out of you burns.  

 But you can’t form words, not when every attempt at it comes out as a desperate whine or shuddering intake of breath. You feel it as your insides clamp down on the intrusion, you feel it as your orgasm slams into you in waves. Varang is talking you through it- at least you think she is. Your ears are ringing and your eyes don’t know if they should stay open or not.

 Varang nuzzles her head under your chin when you slump. In your haze you nuzzle back. Her earthquake like purr incites a weaker and more cautious one to rise from you. It feels more like a shoddy attempt at self comfort rather than the expression of relaxation, contentedness, and joy it’s supposed to be. 

 Varang pulling her fingers out of you makes you twitch, the sensation of cold air suddenly laying on your hot and slick flesh is unpleasant. You try to mentally prepare yourself for what Varang is going to do now when she starts tugging her clothes off. 

 Maybe Varang will make you eat her out, lick the dripping wetness from her thighs. Or maybe she’ll slot both your cores together and grind herself against you. You’ve heard of people doing that. But instead after she’d as bare as you are she moves away. There is a sort of excited overly energetic sense to her movements while she rummages in her stuff. 

 Unfortunately you can’t turn your head to look at her and this reaction has you anxious. While her excitement is cute, you can’t deny that, what in the world is she so joyous about? You wish you hadn’t gotten your answer when Varang comes back into your view.

- Varang…please don’t tell me that is what I think it is… - your voice is an almost whisper as you look at what Varang is currently tying around her hips. The action unfortunately answers your question for you while Varang grins wide. 

- It is. Do not worry, I stretched you enough for it. - Varang tries to calm you, slotting your ankles above her shoulders. Simply said, Varang has carved a cock out of something, and secured it to her hips with leather straps.

- How- how do you know that?! - panic and doubt take over your voice, the size of that thing- it looks like too much for you to take. Varang tries to shush you, grinding the head of it against your clit. 

- I have tried it on others. Some took it with no preparation. It can fit. - somehow that is the worst sentence you’ve heard out of Varang’s mouth in this short amount of time. The confirmation that others have been under her like this makes bile sting the back of your throat.

 How many of her previous bed partners were unwilling? How many had she physically forced or threatened into this? And just how much would this…thing hurt without being stretched for it? What had she done with them after? Will she toss you away after she’s satisfied? 

- Vara…please…I’m scared… - tears prick your eyes as you purposefully try to tug at her heartstrings. Try to get her to stop by making the tears drop. Her gaze softens as she licks away the streaks on your cheeks. 

- I am sorry little bird. If I had a smaller one I would start with that. But you are my mate. You are strong, you can take it. - Varang’s reassurance is empty. You are not convinced she is sorry in any way. Not when she’s tilting your hips and starting to push into you. Not when she is wearing that predatory smile.

 A sob racks your frame despite yourself as she works the toy deeper into you. The material is solid and doesn’t have any give to it, you can already imagine how sore it’s going to leave you. It is also cold, something that just makes your walls clamp down onto it in an attempt to push it out. 

 Varang moans when she rocks into you, like she is feeling something from this as well. Your legs kick out at her when you feel the head settling against your cervix, against your womb. Nothing- nothing has been that deep before. You try to breathe through the feeling of being so utterly filled. 

 There’s a full body jolt from you when Varang slowly runs her fingers down your braid. Your eyes shoot open in utter fear. She’s made no indication of wanting to cut it off, of wanting to hurt you for a sake other than your compliance- but you are still terrified. 

- I won’t do that to you. Trust me. - Varang says, you don’t know how much to believe her. You shake as she softly teases the tendrils of your kuru out. She’s gentle with it. You relax minutely when you see her grab her own, calmed that it’s only that. 

 You whine uncontrollably when it wraps around yours, it feels like it’s suffocating your nerves. You still feel some parts of Varang, the bond not being completely one sided, but it was still scary how it surged at you. That’s how you find out that her carved toy has ridges on the other side of it, ridges that Varang grinds her clit into with every shallow thrust inside. 

 You can feel the resistance your body gives her, how tight you are and how much effort Varang has to put into pulling her cock out and shoving it back in. Slowly, ever so slowly, your pussy begins to relax around the intrusion. Allows Varang to pull out further, push back in faster, grind down harder. 

 You don’t even try to stop your noises anymore, just trying to breathe through the sensation of being speared on her toy and feeling what it’s like from her side. Varang is whining and whimpering on top of you too, yet she keeps the punishing rhythm. 

 You can hear your slick squelch with every movement, every wet smack of Varang’s hips against your own. If your hands weren’t tied above your head they’d be dragging down Varang’s back without a doubt. 

 Varang’s tail wraps around your own, almost cutting off circulation when you both start getting close. You lie there mostly limp and exhausted, your ears twitch weakly. Her arms either give out on her, or she purposefully drops onto your torso, forcing your legs to fold to an almost painful degree.

 Her hips speed up, she starts biting at your neck. These bites are painful, like she’s lost control of her strength. The thrusts into you are similar, too hard and too fast. It hurts as much as it feels good. You can feel Varang’s guttural moans reverberate into your skin through her bites. 

 You dread cumming, but with Varang’s pleasure at this combining with your own, your body has no choice but to convulse around her cock. You can feel how her cunt own clenches around nothing in response. You scream when Varang bites down hard enough for her teeth to sink into your flesh. 

 She stays there as you both ride it out, her hips jumping into yours every other wave. You feel the blood dripping down your skin. You flinch when Varang starts licking it up. Then she finally, finally starts untying your wrists. They ache and tremble as she rubs at them, attempting to restore blood to the tissue. 

 You groan when Varang lets your legs settle into a move natural position. Everything aches. Your patched up scrapes, her bites, your muscles, your joints, and especially your insides. Fuck, whatever that material is should not be used for this.

 Varang scratches behind your ears in apology, this time you can feel through the bond that she is at least partially sorry. But you can also feel how unendingly smug she is at how good she fucked you. You softly pull the tendrils apart, she doesn’t stop you. 

- Could you pull out? - you can’t keep the slight irritation out of your voice. The feeling, no longer overshadowed by pleasure, is terrible. You can feel every tiny ridge of the cock that previously lit your nerves on fire dragging painfully out of you. You hiss in discomfort.

 Varang’s gasp when she sees your slick gush out without the toy trapping it inside is obscene and your ears fold over in embarrassment. The globs of it slide down between your legs and soak into the fur. 

- So swollen… - she sounds in absolute awe of your puffy flesh. She lays a kiss on your entrance and you grab her by the hair on instinct despite how your arms tremble. 

- No- no more Vara… - you don’t really expect her to honour the request. Not like she’s listened to you before. Even back when you were children you could hardly get a bad idea out of her head. But she surprises you. 

 Varang rises without complaint, kissing you softly before fully untangling herself from you. She unties the straps around her hips and tosses the toy to the side. You think that she’s had her fill of you and is now going to leave you there to deal with the aftermath of her actions by yourself when she gets up.

 But just as you are lying there, trying not to wince at the ache in your insides, Varang comes back. She helps you rise up into a sitting position despite the discomfort. Then wordlessly puts a bowl of water to your lips. You gulp it down greedily. 

 She leans your overheating body against hers. You are both sweat slicked in the aftermath of your activities. Only now do you notice how mussed her paint is, how it’s transferred to your skin as well, how you can somewhat make out her natural stripes under it. 

 You trace the patterns you can see on her thighs, she runs her fingers over the bracelet. The thing that started this whole mess. There is a soft smile on her face, an echo of the past. You remember seeing that smile when you were both innocent. 

- I am happy I found you. - she says, deeply taking in your scent. You don’t know if you share the sentiment. Part of you is overjoyed that Varang did not perish. The rational part of your mind is horrified. 

 Horrified at what she’s become, horrified of what she just did to you. Horrified at what she must have done to others. You can’t help but nuzzle into her anyways. You hold her hand tight, tighter than you thought you could. 

- I am happy you are alive. - you reply, the words are heavy. But they are true. - I thought I lost you. 

- You will not lose me. You held onto our promise. I will hold onto you. - Vara promises you. She holds your hand back, as tight as you have latched onto hers. It almost sounds like your confession all those years ago. You huff a dry laugh at the thought. 

 You look up at Varang. She’s a monster, this you know. But you can’t even bring yourself to think about running. You see her soft gaze, remember the hope in her eyes when she first saw you in the mountains, and you know you won’t leave. 

 You’ll let this monster devour you if she wishes to. She’s your mate after all. ____________

This was a fun one! I love exploring what could potentially make a hardened character like Varang soften, and I think something from her past that she still has, that wasn't destroyed by the fire, is a pretty good way to do so. Anyways. hope you enjoyed!! :D

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A1 era: Celine has always ran from her problems. Terrible family? Run away from home. Planet going to shit? Run away to Pandora. She gets into the avatar program (don't ask how this is the murkiest thing in her story). And then Jake comes along. Celine is a lot less harsh on Jake, unlike the others. Some of it is pity. But a lot of it is just seeing his joy when he gets to take the avatar for a test drive. The avatar bodies are freedom for both of them. For Celine being able to switch bodies eases her need to run. Whenever she feels the need to escape she just switches bodies, it keeps her grounded. They spark up a friendship. Jake being a lot more open while Celine is a lot more secretive, afraid to get attached. He at one point tells her about where the ikran rookeries are and how it felt to bond with one. He, in his wonder, forgets to tell her that the ikran try to kill their riders. Celine thinks its like a horsegirl movie/httyd moment and promptly almost gets savaged by her ikran when she goes off alone to bond with one. She's got an arm scar cuz of it but she does survive, her ikran is named Icarus. Now Celine doesn't really like what the RDA are doing but at first doesn't have the drive or confidence to really stop it. Jake motivates her. So despite her fears she joins in during the final battle of the film.

But something goes wrong. Something happens that severs the link of her human body to her avatar body. Celine gets stuck in the avatar. She doesn't realize until she can't go back. Her human body is already cold in the link shack. Jake takes pity on Celine. Unlike him she didn't choose to leave her human body behind. So he tries teaching her, like how he was taught. It doesn't go well. Jake recruits Neytiri to help Celine, like how she helped him. But they clash. Celine isn't willing to leave everything of herself behind, she's been running all her life to preserve who she is. Jake meanwhile sees Celine as finally settling down somewhere as a good thing, a thing to strive towards. But she and Neytiri keep butting heads. Celine keeps being too human. Jake keeps being stubborn. Celine has been trying to stay. She's been fighting the urge to run for this entire time (about a week). Then one day she can't. The next morning there is no sign of Celine. No belonging, no scent, not hide nor hair of her. It's like she never existed. She ran. Again. Time skip + A2: Celine survives on her own for a while, relying only on what she knows and Icarus. She tries to settle down somewhere. A rock ledge, little cave alcove, a tree big enough for a sleeping area. Nothing works. Everytime the urge to run builds and builds and builds- until she has torn whatever she's built and leaves. This is how she meets the Tlalim. At first its just observing one another. Both the Tlalim and Celine on high alert. But they keep running into each other. A Tlalim woman (still don't have a name for her but she needs one, I can't keep calling her Woman) is the first one to confront Celine. Both are tense at first. But slowly, with the help of this woman, Celine becomes sort of like a stray/feral cat to the Tlalim. She stops by and travels with them, helping out where she can, periodically. But everybody has the understanding that this isn't permanent, not yet anyway. Celine and this woman end up developing a sort of mutual crush. Celine is unfortunately allergic to getting attached. But this Tlalim woman is slowly coaxing her closer and closer, like one would a homeless cat they want to adopt. This woman wasn't originally from the Tlalim. She was unsatisfied with life in her own clan and left to be one of the Tlalim, she offers the same to Celine. No pushing, no demanding, just an outstretched hand. Celine isn't sure if it makes her want to run or stay. So she oscillates. But gradually, this woman gets her closer and closer. It takes years. Years of pining and of Celine being...Celine. But this woman is patient with her. Will wait as long as Celine needs her to. It...might not be the healthiest relationship. Celine keeps leaving, keeps running, and this woman is projecting her own feelings of abandonment and longing onto Celine. But they fall into something comfortable.

Comfortable enough for Celine to feel like she can't just stand by or run when the Mangkwan raid the Tlalim. Thats when she first comes face to face with Varang. Celine is terrified. Why wouldn't she be? But she survives the fight, helps the Tlalim get away. And it happens again and again and again. Icarus is swift, Celine is flightly, they keep living through the raids. Getting bolder and bolder, defeating more and more Mangkwan. Varang and Celine start recognizing each other. To Varang, Celine is prey that keeps slipping through her teeth. It drives her mad that each and every time she can't get this one.

To Celine, Varang is the head of the snake so to speak. If she dies, this stops. But she is also a predator that she can't get caught by, if she does it will be her death. This Celine knows very well.

A3 era: Celine is with the Tlalim when the Sully family tags along to transport Spider. She hadn't come with them to trade, instead staying away from the Metkayina and joining back up with the Tlalim later.

Lets just say that things get...uncomfortable. Jake pities Celine, realizing only after she ran that he was pushing her into something she didn't truly want, even if he thought it was for her own good.

Celine doesn't take his pity well. Neytiri meanwhile thinks of Celine as a coward, her dislike of Celine is clear. Celine doesn't try to deflect Neytiri's words, doesn't try to dispute them. In Celine eyes, Neytiri is right.

The raid comes. With Celine there are less casualties, less lives lost to the Mangkwan. But she can't change everything. Neytiri is still shot down, the Sully kids still get chased, Varang's confrontation with Quaritch still happens. The only change is that when the Mangkwan search by air, they don't come up empty handed. They find Celine. And they finally catch her.

At first Varang wants to kill Celine. Wants to mount her head on her wall as a trophy, proof that none can escape her. But she gets a better idea. She keeps Celine as a prisoner. A cruel punishment for all the times she slipped through Varang's fingers.

She lets the rest of the Mangkwan have free reign at first, just make sure she doesn't run. But Celine is clever, and running is her forte. She manages to escape once.

Unfortunately she doesn't make it far, days or weeks of near starvation and barely moving take a toll. Varang finds her, hidden beneath a volcanic rock formation.

She drags Celine back kicking and screaming.

Varang gets possessive of her trophy. Enamored with the control she has over Celine. When the fancy strikes to take advantage of her prisoner, who is Varang to deny herself? Toys are meant to be played with.

For the first time Celine is faced with something she can't run from. Something she can't escape. It slowly breaks her down. Slowly snuffs out the fire and drive Celine had cultivated.

Quaritch showing up just makes things worse. They didn't interact much when they were human, but they had a clear distaste for each other.

Then Jake gets captured and something inside Celine shatters.

I am not too sure yet if she escapes along with Jake and Spider. Some part of me wants her to escape and to continue having a complicated dynamic with the Sully family. Another wants her to remain Varang's little toy.

But she's an oc so AUs exist for either option.

She would get so protective over her mate when she knocks them up. Because we are carrying her baby we aren't even given the chance to be reckless.

It would be a suffocating kind of care. But it would be worth it when her face presses against the growing bump, putting her ear to it and trying to hear the baby at the later stages.

Varang wouldn't be able to keep her hands to herself. Fascinated with the way her mate's breasts swell up she'd knead them, unable to stop herself from latching on there when she coaxes some milk out.

I imagine during the early stages Varang wouldn't be able to stop herself from filling her mate again and again and again. Fucking us so frequently it feels like she's trying to her us pregnant twice over.

But later, when it sinks in that she could accidentally hurt the fragile little thing inside us? Varang would be hesitant, gentler with us. Closer to the due date she'd only eat her mate out, not daring to even penetrate with her fingers, fearing she'd incite an early birth.

She'd get her pleasure from either our own mouth in turn, or just grind her cock against our cunt or in between our thighs.

And the potential angst and power dynamics if we weren't already her mate? If we were just some new slave she decided to fuck, planning just to break us in before tossing us to the rest of the Mangkwan to do with as they pleased?

But surprising even herself when she finds us particularly delectable for one reason or another. She decides we are only hers to fuck from then on.

The idea of contraceptives slip from Varang's mind, she doesn't even consider that she could knock her slave up. Thinking that getting kidnapped and generally being around the Mangkwan would be too much stress for our body to grow her seed.

But then the symptoms become undeniable. The sickness, swelling belly and breasts, emotional disregulation? Suddenly Varang can't deny that it took. That she put a baby in us.

She hadn't truly considered the possibility, thinking us too weak. She should get it out of us, force a concoction into our mouth that would rid her of this unexpected surprise.

But she doesn't. Not because she doesn't consider it, but because even Varang can't bring herself to do so.

She starts keeping us in her yurt. Tied up or in a cage so we don't try anything stupid, so we don't try to end this pregnancy ourselves.

At first she is intimidating, seemingly furious that we of all people are carrying her child. She softens slowly, oh so slowly.

Letting us move around freely for a bit, just enough so our muscles don't atrophy. Standing behind us and lifting up our belly to take a little pressure off our bones or to just feel what she's done to her slave.

Needing us to sleep in her bed while she curls around us, hand stroking over the baby bump, hoping to feel it kick. Varang tells herself its only for one night. It isn't.

She thinks these fluttery little feelings over seeing us pregnant will end when we finally give her a child. That afterwards she'll claim the child as only hers, keeping her slave around as only a nurse maid. That the baby will never know us as a mother.

Varang plans to kill us after her child doesn't need our body anymore. She doesn't.