˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ why, hello dear! i welcome you with most sincere heart to rest with a pile of writings i have, please do enjoy your visit with the best flower tea you have. oh, come sit! i may introduce myself first.⠀⠀
𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈. 𝐗𝐈𝐗. 𝐄𝐍𝐅𝐏. 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀masterlist
𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 ; most of my work will be in an anthology/series, which means one character has their own universe and all works related to them is under the same setting and storyline.
for direction— "his silent beatitude." will be my tag for poseidon and "his beauteous bride." will be for neteyam.
‗ ❍ yumejoshi ; in Japanese fandom, the term "夢女子" (yumejoshi, "dreaming girl") is used by female self-shippers.
In another universe we watched more sunsets together.
In another universe we’re dancing in the rain and the music never stops.
In another universe we are going on all that trips we talked about.
In another universe, you stay by my side a little bit longer, so I don’t have a reason to deal with all this pain now and be looking for you in another universe.
thinking about a scenario where lo’ak comes back to omatikaya, meeting the one he used to love before tsireya.
where lo’ak remembers the grief of leaving his home and you; his love.
where lo’ak remembers the pain when he had to break up with tsireya because they cannot be together for the longest time due to the sully coming back to their home.
where lo’ak unconsciously pulls his past love back to him, and you are cluelessly, enchanted, accepting him just the way you were before he moved to awa’atlu.
where lo’ak realizes his heart holds two names, yet has no courage to ask your hand to be his because somewhere within his thick-skulled head, he wishes to get back with tsireya again.
where lo’ak constantly being available and unavailable to you because of that, leaving you confused yet you find out about it; about the other girl.
where you, the one who was left for 3 years, are already so desperate to feel his love. to feel your lo’ak. to see your lo’ak.
where you have to pleads, tears adorning your face, hands finding the rushed heartbeat beneath his chest skin, “i will pretend i do not know you love someone else or having someone other than me. i can be the second, i do not care. just, please. love me.”
where you really are losing your sanity over the years of confusion and longing.
happy for you too! want to participate if you dont mind hmm demeter with neteyam, in case, morning after? thanks babe!
thank you!!!
"hey," there's a gruff voice as the male turns over onto his belly. "hi, baby. you alright?"
you nod, lethargic. "sore."
"i know, baby, i know." he hums, budging closer to press a gentle kiss to your temple. "you were incredible, you know that?"
you turn your cheek, cheeks dimpling. "thank you. you were too." you praise, reaching over to cradle his cheek, brushing a thumb over the crest of his cheekbone.
"hm. i love you." he hums.
"i love you too, sweetheart."
"c'mon, let's go get you something to drink, yeah?" he offers, sitting up with a low groan. "water. let's get some water."
Lit with a passionate fire. Oh, Mother Eywa. As fine art thou created has he stood stead before the eyes of his own love; his woman. Across the room; the sea of crowd, time has slowed itself for her in taking every sight of Neteyam. Never does it cease in adoration, at last not in lone splendor hung aloft the eve, and staring, with bodies apart, like Pandora’s sleepless glowing flora that illuminates the dots on his body.
Steadfast still, unwavered still. A crescent grows itself on her eyes as her lips curl into a lovely, sweet smile. Oh, Mother Eywa. How could a man exist ever oh so beautiful?
Her fair love rips her bosom, swells in delight when those honey eyes meet hers. His lips fall into a close, not heeding the previous chatter with other warriors; as it grows into the reflection of her mouth. Time has stopped. Many heads around them have stopped moving. Still, her tender-breath keeps her on the ground, whispering to her that this is reality.
A reality where her mighty Neteyam is hers, may as well take his heart; it is already offered in no passing seconds by the man himself. And the gratitude itself, is evident in the deep of those eyes; ever so dreamy, oh so lovely she hangs the star. The smile on Neteyam’s face is enough to cradle her, to tell her: I know, Love. Yet so eloquent, that smile wins your face, the tint that glows on your face, Oh how grateful Neteyam is.
Closing the gap, dividing the sea of people in cheers of festivity, has he found his legs bring their hearts closer without ceasing the connection their souls share in a form of eye contact. His eyes fall in shame, upon the overly-smitten canvas she displays on that gorgeous frame. He knows, Neteyam knows. Pandora itself has bowed down to her feet.
She bestows him a hand on his left chest, laying on his heart. The man has his eyes latch on the fluttering eyelashes that are the roof of those glittering orbs. Ripe lips parting in attempt to voice out every bit of words that left on her throat; she closes that pair of yellow in girlish grace.
“Neteyam.”
His soft yet calloused palm rests on top of hers, claiming the warmth within his hold as if it is his last breath to fight for, to cling on. Soft humming leaves his throat, patiently in a moment of waiting for the next words.
“Love me.” The wind carries her throat, a whisper that is only reserved for his hearing.
“Have I spent a second in my life not doing so?”
To the contrary his mind had drawn as called expectation, the teardrop that falls upon her porcelain skin betrays his brain. Neteyam finds his other hand against her small shoulder, caressing up to her neck, eventually he meets her cheek. Wasted tears slide in between their skin, the lady finds comfort in leaning close in his swallowing hand. “Love me.”
That hand on his chest falls, leaving an emptiness as Neteyam reaches for her embrace, that beautiful face comes into his tender cradling in search of any sign of lonesome, of abandonment; may the burden on his heart be lifted once he sees nothing but love. But love, and just love, on her face.
Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan.
A man with splendid achievements and titles that carries his golden name, to the breadth of his noble, he is Neteyam. Adored by many, sought by many, loved by many. Her heart swells in agony; oh, Mother Eywa. What is it like, to live as one breathing in the same air as Neteyam yet not feeling his love? It can not be her, for how she is utterly, lovingly, honestly beholden. He chose her. He sees her.
That Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan loves her.
Has the beautiful blush, Neteyam savors the sight as her bosom is pressed against his abdomen. Craning her neck in hope to meet her lover’s eyes in such closeness, his much bigger hand eases her nape as another has its way in roaming her hip. He breathes in her scent, floral, pink sweet. He is drunk. “You are beloved to me. I shall say it every night, you are beloved to me.”
Not heeding any stares that might come with prejudice, the couple takes moment in every skinship, huddling close to each other in search of their heart, longing for something that is caged for years under the oath of mating they had not yet sworn upon. Years of difficulties the mankind had shot them, is the blame. To grow the love, the fruition of their heavenly love; those innocent children of theirs need to live in the world not knowing blood and tears.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You have been struggling with Neteyam’s death ever since the funeral, which has caused The Sullys to worry about your mental health. To ensure you don’t do anything irrational, the kids follow you to the spirit tree every night where you visit Neteyam.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of suicide attempts, fluff, I’ll add more if I think of more
na’viyä hapxì — one of the people | neteyam x avatar!reader
summary: you have your ceremony to become apart of the clan after finally telling kiri everything that's been going on. neteyam is forced to deal with his feelings as he realizes he might be losing you to someone else.
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader
word count: 11.9k (I have no self-control at this point. seriously I still have a part or two left to write)
warnings/notes: i am so sorry, slow burn continues, swearing, major angst, fighting, mention of blood, mention of sky people, forest destruction, confrontation of feelings, a smidge of fluff but not much, one step closer to the end
series masterlist | one of us: part five | requests are currently open for now
This was supposed to be the start of your new life but all you could think about at that second was how Lo’ak was gripping your face and saying all of the things that somehow left the opposite feeling in your stomach than it should have. Maybe because it was Lo’ak saying it or maybe it was the fact that he was admitting that he would settle for you. It made you cringe, the wording, the confession that he would rather settle for you than anyone else. It made you want to completely claw at the insides of your brain, hoping that if desperate enough and boiling with an unmistakable rage, you could rip the memory free from your mind.
No one should ever want to settle for anyone and it left you trying to swallow the knot inside your throat. Even if it had come from a good place with the intention to give two lonely people the possibility of a future, the delivery was cruel. To top it off, you were late, the sun had completely set over the mountain, leaving the sky in total darkness. The freckles upon Lo’ak’s nose and forehead were glowing, taking your attention, appearing similar to the stars above as his once sun-kissed eyes lazily trace your face.
That’s all you could think about as your Ikran landed in the base of the village, his landing next to yours a second later. His eyes were too much like his brother's and it was grueling. If you focused on them long enough, it was like it was Neteyam there instead of Lo'ak. But then you were reminded of the look in them, something unmatched and desolate. There was a certain glint within his olive-green irises that was missing as if when he stared down at you there was an emptiness deep within the confines and walls of his chest.
As soon as your feet landed on the ground, you were desperate to escape, an appalling pull in your stomach as you took off towards the center of the village. You felt the pounding in your head ultimately increase as all air was pulled from your lungs at the sight of the village. So many people. The whole clan in fact gathered, waiting. Waiting for you. Deep breath in. Then out.
It was nauseating how many people were there and almost annoying how close you could feel Lo'ak walking behind you. As if his presence was trying to remind you of his words all over again. His words felt like they were squeezing your heart in its palm sickeningly watching as the organ withered in its grip.
Approaching the large old tree that hovered over the village almost like Home Tree once did, your steps faltered as you found Kiri standing outside, her arms crossed over her chest and toe-tapping against the dirt. Your steps increased, desperation forming for her to see her brother lurching on your back and your sanity and remove him instantly.
When her eyes met yours, she was pushing herself up off the side of the tree and hurried towards you in slight disbelief but then when she found Lo’ak behind you, she could only roll her eyes, “Why am I not surprised?”
“Hi, Kiri,” Lo’ak replied sweetly, waving his hand with a chester-like grin on his face.
“Oh shut it, I should have known she wouldn’t have been late to her own ceremony unless someone else was involved,” she shot daggers at her brother and wondered how much it would take for him to collapse overcome by his sister's indisputable irritation.
Kiri's hand tightly took a hold of your arm beginning to lead you into the hollowed-out tree, the fragrance of oak and amber brought a tickle to the base of your nose, “And you, we have to start getting you ready.”
“Oh relax, we made it didn’t we?"
Lo'ak's tone sliced through the air and you felt the disbelief warp around your insides and tighten. They felt as if they were boiling, hot from his obliviousness to the situation. Because even if he was trying to do something sweet, his reasoning behind it all was so wrong. You decided to ignore him and his sister seemed to do the same as she began to fiddle with the ends of your hair. His stare was just as empty as it had been the hour before
You looked away, instead hoping to find solace or an ounce of reassurance in your surroundings, within the tree filled with candles, tapestries, beads, everything that could be certified as sacred. You had never been inside before and you found yourself admiring it rather than his blank stare.
Hearing the way his mouth parted like a gaping fish in water, you felt your shoulders stiffen. Out of fear that he was about to spill the soul-wrenching words you had yet to even process yourself. The last thing you could deal with was him spouting them out proudly like an idiot to someone else as if he had already claimed you.
Luckily, before he could say anything or reveal the sour secrets of your life, his voice shrunk back into his throat and his ears flattened softly at something else entirely. A chuckle verberated from your lips as you peered over to find the exact cause of Lo'ak's silence.
His father. Jake Sully stood near the doorway, his hands balanced on his hips, dressed as if displaying power was his only goal on this planet. A look filled his eye that you had come to know extremely well as if he was forcefully trying to draw everyone's attention and completely intimidate his youngest son.
“Hey Dad,” Lo’ak waved timidly, gulping as Jake approached him and firmly took a hold of his shoulder.
“Outside, now,” Jake commanded, voice cutting through the room, leaving a silence that was deafening. He couldn't look away from Lo'ak with an undermined idea that the teenager would have vanished from his sight if he did. Not sparing anyone a glance, he dragged Lo'ak out of the room.
Kiri acting as if it hadn't happened began to undo the braids in your hair. With the two of you left alone, you had a feeling her silence was only temporary. With her fingers loosening around the third one, you felt her grip disappear. You sighed, somehow guilt of your own crawling up out of your throat even though you weren’t entirely sure what you were guilty of.
The possibilities could have been endless at that point. Guilt had formed because of too many far-fetched reasons that were tightly wound up in your head. Could it have appeared, because you were spending more time with your best friend's brothers rather than giving her a second of your time? Or was it because of the unmistakable fear of the reality outside of your Pandora bubble — the ignored sickness of your human body? Or worst of all could this guilt eating away at you be from the less-than-innocent desire that had taken over you for her older brother — the one man you knew you could never have?
“Kiri, whatever it is just ask?” you said suddenly, taking in a deep breath, “Please.”
She continued with your hair but this time let her thoughts fall freely off her tongue, “What was that all about? Showing up late to your own ceremony? And with Lo’ak. Really?”
You sighed, the frustration was evident in your voice, and somehow you found yourself nervous to tell her of the conversation that you had had with him, “It was nothing out of the ordinary.”
“So, he was just trying to flirt with you. That’s all it was?” she asked, cautiously, her fingers carding through your hair gently unable to look away from the way your thumbs were fiddling with one another in your lap, “I thought you were immune to his advances. You haven’t fallen for it have you?”
Your answer was without hesitation, “Of course not.”
“Then what is going on?” Kiri’s hands suddenly dropped from your hair and turned you around to face her. It was as if she could hear through Eywa that something was plaguing your heart. Like something had been affecting you for a while and she just hadn’t seen any of the signs. “Look, I know my brothers have been occupying all of your time lately, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you. And if something is bothering you, I want to be able to help.”
Taking in a deep breath, you exhaled, gold eyes suddenly meeting hers with a certain unsureness laced within yours. Your hands were almost shaking as every anxiety you thought you had shoved far away seemed to resurface.
She suddenly took both of your hands in hers, eyes wide and lips curled softly into a small smile, her expression reflecting comfort back at you, “Y/N, just tell me.”
“Tonight,” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat as everything came racing back to you, “After we had been flying, we stopped on this mountain and… Lo’ak, he asked me if I wanted to be his mate.”
Her mouth parted in shock, a small noise of disapproval seemed to fall from them as her eyes widened even further, “He what?”
“He asked me to—”
“Yes, I heard you the first time,” she cut you off, her mouth closing and then dropping open again, “But he is too young to even be…”
As her voice trailed off, you nodded agreeing with her words. Lo’ak was only seventeen and Neytiri and Jake had made it perfectly clear to their children that they advised them to wait until they were eighteen before making plans. Wait until they decided on a mate, plus in Lo’ak’s case, he wasn’t sure if the decision was even his. If Neteyam didn’t have the choice, why would he? Sure, for his older brother Olo’eyktan was at stake but their parents’ decision was safer in their eyes than letting their young adult sons make the choice for themselves. He had automatically assumed that if Neteyam wouldn’t have the option neither would he.
“And tonight he asked you to…”
All breath left her again and her shock was smacked across her face displaying perfectly how you had felt too when it had happened. You nodded again, “Yes.”
“But wait,” she squeezed your hands, “He knows better. We all know that our mother has clearly stated that it isn’t allowed, at least not while you are still a dream walker. Why would he even… Y/N?”
You watched slowly as the confusion had overtaken her face and just as quickly left as she spoke out loud, trying to wrap her head around this occurrence. Within a matter of seconds, she realized that Lo’ak would not have openly asked you this unless there was a way this would be allowed. She knew her brother and despite him having broken many rules in the past, she also knew that for something this serious he would be more considerate. In fact something as serious as mates, he would not decide rationally.
“What would lead Lo’ak to ask this?”
“Maybe the fact that,” your voice was unsteady, pausing just as the truth was tiptoeing across your tongue, “He knew I went and visited Mo’at. And that I asked her about the consciousness transfer.”
“You did what?” her voice had hardened, turning cold as her hands had seemed to slip out of yours possibly out of shock, disappointment, or both. The exact reaction you were expecting. “Y/N!”
She shook her head, the fear of one of two outcomes appearing in her mind. You do the ritual and somehow pass through Eywa's eyes and be reborn or you do the ritual and have your presence accepted to be with The Great Mother forever. It was the latter that filled Kiri with the worst possible fear. However, this wasn't the first time this situation had crossed her mind — you admitting that you wanted to do the consciousness transfer to become one of them.
It was a possibility that had been living in her mind far longer than anyone could realize. Since the moment she had first seen you in your avatar body. It was the glimmer in your eye, this type of glow that seemed to surround you that none of them had ever seen before. It was there that very first night; in your smile, your clumsy steps, eyes constantly searching to absorb every part of the forest you saw. As you spent more time in the forest, in the village, with her people, with Neteyam, Kiri realized that the glow around your head only seemed to increase. She was afraid that this could happen, but she never thought it would. Almost as if she relied on your intelligence and common sense to distract you from the alluring double life you were currently living.
“What were you thinking?” Kiri found her voice, and the betrayal and pain heard in it seemed to crack not only your spirits but a part of your soul, “Y/N, you know how dangerous the transfer is and how rarely it even is successful. Eywa is very careful when it comes to requests and she is far more complex than you realize.”
“I know Kiri,” you admitted, bowing your head as if you were a child being scolded.
“Really? Because I think if you truly understood that. If Neteyam had made any of it perfectly clear to you, or if you had listened to anything we’ve been telling you for the last seven years you wouldn’t have put in that request to Mo’at.”
“No, Kiri, you don’t understand. It didn’t matter what you or anyone else said to me, I still would have gone to Mo’at and requested the transfer ritual.”
“Why?” her brows knitted together, the word sounded so spiteful on her tongue and it was foreign in her own ears.
She had never talked this way to anyone, let alone you, her best friend all throughout childhood. Somehow though she knew kindness was sometimes for the weak of heart and her feelings in that moment were completely justified. Led by the thought of possibly losing you had activated every nerve in her body to act out in a fight or flight response and with that came anger and the need to be vitriolic to you.
You sighed, taking a step back from her as your own arms found a place wrapped around your waist, a conditioned action from your childhood that had transferred even into your avatar body. You felt the tears begin to cloud your eyes, and you silently cursed yourself for letting this get to you during a time that was supposed to be celebratory.
Finally, meeting her eyes again, you broke down your walls and let the feelings you had been trying to make sense of for far too long go, “I can’t go on like this forever. Can’t you see? How one of these days when either the technology fails or our resources finally diminish themselves, I won’t be able to keep doing this. My life will alter completely.”
As you paused, behind your eyes it was like you had bonded back to your human body. A pale body being pumped full of liquid solutions with dullness to its eyes. All you could feel was weakness — the only thing that was left within it. “Not to mention the stress from the link pod would become too much for my body. I would have to give up one, and I prefer that it wouldn’t be this one.”
Her hands reached out and took a hold of your elbows, reasoning the only thing she could think to do to calm you down or to better change your mind. She smiled softly but it was laced with a kind of grief you hadn’t seen before. “Y/N, when and if that day comes, we can get you readjusted. We can teach you the ways to handle the forest in your human body and get enough oxygen supply for you. Spider can help—”
“I don’t want Spider’s help,” you snapped, fangs barring for a moment before you recoiled into yourself all emotions dropping from your face, “You don’t get it, Kiri. What I have outside of this village, outside of this body is not a life. I sit around day after day looking out of a glass box at a world that is right in front of me. A world I will never be able to have, not like this, not like I have now. That isn’t living and I am running out of time. Please, try to understand. There isn’t enough time to try and make up for it with my human body.”
“Y/N,” Kiri’s grip on your elbows tightened, her eyes dancing across your face trying to decipher the meaning of your words as all that she could hear ringing in her ears was that you didn’t have the time.
Before she could spend too long on it though, you were speaking again with a deflated look appearing on your face, “But you don’t have to worry because clearly, Eywa does not see me as one that is worthy. Mo’at turned down the request. And you won’t have to worry about me and Lo’ak either because you and I both know I could never go through with it.”
Though relief flooded her system, the brokenness of your expression brought out other feelings in her. Mostly of sadness as she watched how quickly that glow you had was diminishing into nothing but a dull perspective on life. That rare magic that seemed to fill you, that most people couldn’t even acknowledge as being real or possible, was slowly being ripped out of you.
She took a deep breath, feeling your disappointment reverberating off of her very being. Somehow as she processed your words, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn't entirely true. Eywa’s heart beats loudly in her ears and often it’s like her soul can hear the Great Mother’s voice. Kiri had quickly learned what it meant for Eywa to not accept something or to not agree with something — it didn’t feel like this.
“You could never go through with it because of the request being denied?” Kiri finally asked, deterring the conversation to Lo’ak and what he had asked you. The very thing he should have never asked you in the first place.
As she asked it though, you became silent, your hands gaining your attention rather quickly. Within that moment, where you stared down at your ten fingers that matched the two Sully children's, you realized that even if the transfer request had been accepted by Eywa and approved by Mo’at, that wasn’t why you couldn’t go through it. Even if you became fully Na’vi, you knew fully in your heart that you couldn’t accept Lo’ak’s offer to settle. It was never about the transfer ritual at all, but rather about someone.
“Or you could never go through with it because of Neteyam?” Kiri asked, and your eyes flickered up as if she had read your mind or, better, your silence.
Brows furrowing together in confusion, your eyes widened slightly in surprise, “How did you—”
“You really think no one has noticed, Y/N?” she smiled, a small laugh escaping as her hand reached up to brush the braids in your face, which she still had to undo, behind your ear, “It’s like the whole world has tilted on its axis and you act as if it hasn’t. It’s all there in front of us; the stolen glances, how his previous frustration has changed into protectiveness, him sneaking out every night to see you even when he spent most of the day with you, the light touches here and there that happen so quick like a blink of an eye, the way you look at him. I can keep going, there’s plenty more.”
Your head tilted down, face flushing completely to a dark hue and it was all the confirmation she needed. Meeting her soft smile, you reached up to take her hand in yours, remorse the only way to describe you, “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Of course not,” Kiri chuckled, her hand squeezing yours, “No one ever does. It’s cute though, you and Neteyam.”
You shook your head then denying her words, her acknowledgment of your feelings, “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
She watched as the glow seemed to dull even further as your broken expression met hers, voice soft as you spoke, “There can never be a me and Neteyam. You know that, Kiri. He is the future Olo’eyktan and there is a plan for his life. One where his mate will be chosen for him. It’s a life that I can’t be a part of.”
Her expression dropped, a smile falling from her lips as her hand cradled your face softly fully preparing herself to wipe the tears from your face. Her mouth parted as if she was about to say something, comfort you maybe, deny your claim, or worse accept that it was the truth and what would inevitably happen. You would never know though as her eyes flickered up behind you, something catching her eye. Her hands fell from your frame and her soft smile returned.
Confused, you watched as she nodded in the direction behind you, your name falling off her tongue as if it was a sweet melody, “Y/N.”
Cautiously, you turned around, worried that someone had somehow and someway heard what you had said, all of it including the confession about the future Olo’eyktan. You felt your anxiety slip away into the night as you found the man himself entering the tree, his eyes only set on you.
Then a new kind of anxiety formed, and your heart rate sped up, as you took him in. He was already dressed for the ceremony with the most extravagant necklaces, arm bands, and clothing just as his father had been. Hair freshly braided, it swung from side to side as he stalked forward, a look in his eye you couldn’t entirely unravel. He was slightly out of breath as if he had been running, a thin layer of sweat gathering across his shoulders and the side of his face.
Kiri took a small step back as Neteyam stopped in front of you, his hands instantly reaching out to take your arms. His palms were rough against your skin as he began to scan you from head to head, a tight frown stitched onto his face paired with his eyebrows knitted together.
His gold eyes could even be described as scary and you wondered if you had gotten a sliver of the past. If the old Neteyam was standing in front of you and was about to lecture you for being late to your own ceremony. Instead, when his golden gaze found yours again, they softened for a millisecond and the look was gone again just as quickly.
“I am going to kill him,” Neteyam growled under his breath, voice deep enough to reach inside of you and hollow out your entire body of any other feelings that once resided there. Suddenly, all you could think about was him and the way he was holding you.
An arm's length away, he continued to scan your body for any markings or injuries that hadn’t been there before. You realized then that this look on his face, this intensity and anger wasn’t towards you for being late, but towards his younger brother, who was supposed to be responsible for you. Lo’ak was the reason behind this reaction and clearly, the sight of his younger brother being scolded by his father near their tent had sent him into a rage. “Are you okay?”
Your insides fluttered at the way his tone had shifted completely in a matter of seconds. This was a side of him you felt you had never seen before, and it was like that paired with the way you were staring up at him like a lovesick puppy had been enough to prove to Kiri that everything she had said was completely true.
“Yes, I am fine.”
Your words had broken his spell and his stare hardened again, his anger towards his brother returning full-fledge, “How could he be so stupid? He knew what time the ceremony was and he kept you out there until dark anyway. It was completely selfish. And if something happened…”
His voice had trailed off as if he couldn’t even think about it, let alone say it. He was playing a dangerous game with your heart, evident in the way the strings seemed to be getting pulled with everything he did or say. You reached out, your hands connecting with his chest, and he felt all air get pushed out from the sudden contraction of his diaphragm due to the warm touch.
“Neteyam, I am fine, okay? And Lo'ak didn't mean any harm by it.”
“Yeah, just having fun right? Uh, I shouldn’t have let him go. It should have been me up there with you. I know better than letting him go off without someone who is responsible. It’s like he doesn’t have a conscious when he flies and he's seventeen for fucks sake."
“Stop. Okay, this is not your fault, Lo’ak is his own person who makes his own decisions. There is nothing to even stress about because we’re fine. We are both fine,” you said, thinking carefully about your next words, “You know how it is. You get up there, and suddenly you’re flying for hours—”
“And never want to come down, I know,” he finished your thought.
“You know, you can be too hard on him sometimes,” you said, and at your words, you felt him pull back, not only from you defending Lo'ak but at the way you had sounded so much like his mother talking to his father.
He couldn't respond but instead, let his worry fade slightly. However, you watched as the previous panicked look still remained in his eyes and you realized then that this was more than just a reaction to you being out later than expected. There was more to his response and anger towards his younger brother than just making him late for your ceremony. The way he was still gripping you in his hands was all the confirmation you needed.
“What is it?”
His ears perked up at your question, watching as your hands fell from his chest. The concern soon filled your eyes too. Cautiously, you asked again, “What’s going on?”
He then glanced around you at his sister, who was staring at him expectantly. Kiri stepped forward and raised a brow in his direction, “Neteyam?”
With your head tilted up at him, you pushed every flutter, every thrilling feeling he stirred in you away. That's how scared you got when you looked at the expression on his face and the paling of his skin. You watched as his expression set in and let his guard down — that facade of being the perfect little soldier disappeared and all you had staring back at you was a worried young man.
Before he could respond, footsteps caught all of your attention. Neytiri appeared just as furious as Neteyam had moments ago. Behind her, Tuk followed oblivious to all the feelings that were being thrown around the room. At the sight of them, his hands dropped from your arms and he took a step back putting distance between the two of you. You ignored how the simple action played with your feelings because you knew you would have to get used to it — the lack of his physical touch. You were brought back out of your daze, your eyes finally leaving the side of Neteyam’s face as you felt a more petite body collide with yours.
Tuk was hugging you and hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around her. It was the only warm feeling left you could actively acknowledge. Neytiri let out a breath of relief at the sight of you, “Oh Great Mother, you’re here, finally.”
She walked straight by her son who now found the ground much more interesting to look at than you. His walls were back up just like that as the strong soldier he was supposed to be and you all were forced to revert your attention to the importance at hand; your ceremony. His silence was so loud though, it was the only thing that could hold your attention.
“I am sorry, Neytiri to have kept you all waiting.”
“Shush,” she stepped forward, hand brushing across your shoulder. She hissed then underneath her breath, her ears flattening slightly, “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.”
The mention of Lo’ak had your shoulders dropping, the guilt beginning to swallow you that they once again put all the blame on him. As if you were nothing but an innocent child who didn’t know any better, they looked to him expectantly — all of their protectiveness of you overshadowing the poor treatment they were giving him. Even if he had kept you out far later than he should have, he was unworthy of the treatment they were giving him, Toruk Makto’s son or not.
“We need to start getting you ready,” she said then, moving to continue what Kiri had already started with your hair. Her fingers quickly but gently began to undo the remaining braids. Her eyes then flickered up to her oldest son who stood nearby stealing glances at you.
She raised her eyebrow expectantly at him and as if he was about to leave, her husband came barreling into the room but with no Lo’ak following after him. Instead, the younger boy stood outside, leaning against the opening arms crossed over his chest, face pulled into a scowl. Jake hesitated from addressing Neteyam as he saw you standing before his wife, luckily unharmed.
Stepping forward, his large palm ghosted over your cheek, that Olo’eyktan look about him faltering slightly, “You okay?”
Your eyes narrowed and you found yourself glancing from him back to his son. Neteyam was already looking at you, his soft gaze completely hidden in front of his parents. You glanced between the two of them and somehow you just knew. They were all keeping it from you and based on their reactions, whatever it was it couldn’t have been good in the slightest.
“Yes, I am fine,” you said, voice wavering slightly as Jake’s hand dropped from you.
Neytiri continued with your hair and all of the women watched as Jake took Neteyam by the shoulder and guided him a few feet away. They both had lowered their voices but even with his efforts, you all were able to hear every word, “Immediately after the ceremony we go, do you hear me, boy? We can’t waste any more time so as soon as it’s over, we call the Ikrans.”
“Yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded, and you felt your heart spike in your chest.
It seemed Neytiri wasn’t entirely aware of the situation either as her movements slowed down and she looked up at her husband questioningly about what exactly he was ordering their son to do. Her eyes narrowed, and the motherly protectiveness built into her DNA showed. She called out to her husband and the two men became tense at her voice. Slowly they both looked up, hesitant about what they should and shouldn’t say. She only saw this seriousness when Jake began to channel his marine side and she felt her stomach prick nervously at how he stepped forward as if he was going to prepare her.
“What’s going on?”
He sighed, “We’ve gotten word that there are sky people close to the border. Far closer than ever before.”
Neteyam glanced over at you trying to gauge your reaction and you felt your whole body stiffen — out of dread, fear of a reality where maybe this would be the end of your avatar form. If another war was going to break out, there would be no room and no safety for you to keep entering the link pod every day. It would all be over and with you still being very much one of them, one of the sky people, you could get shunned from the village.
Jake stepped forward though and tried to ease her worries, “I’ve gotten word that it’s only a few. There is nothing to worry about yet, okay? After the ceremony, Neteyam and I will gather the Ikrans and go see what’s going on. We will be spotting, nothing else.”
Your mouth parted, unable to stop how you instantly looked at Neteyam. When he caught your eye and your expression, he couldn’t help but look away — away from the fear slapped across your face. Neytiri nodded but a part of her still couldn’t let it go, “If it is only a few can’t you order someone else to do it?”
Jake shook his head, “I need to see this for myself to better assess the situation. It’ll be fine, I promise you.”
“And Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked.
“I talked to him, he knows what he needs to know about the situation. Keep an eye on him though when we leave, I can’t have that boy doing anything else stupid.”
Tuk was still wrapped around your body and you felt the way she turned her head into your stomach, trying so hard to understand everything her parents were saying. Jake glanced down at his youngest daughter and knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything in front of her but it couldn’t wait. To avoid Neytiri worrying about it later or feeling blindsided, he needed to say it and somehow the children being present was just unexpected collateral damage. You hugged her tighter to your form, hands rubbing her back softly.
“It’s getting late,” Jake acknowledged, glancing at Neteyam and then back to his wife.
Neytiri nodded, knowing that with time now more important, she had to turn off everything that worried her — every fear or possibility of the worst occurring. Instead, she pushed it all down away with the pain and the grief where she built her strength. As if it hadn’t been the most terrifying news she had heard in years, she pushed it all down and focused on the moment right in front of them. You and your ceremony. Before anything else, that must be completed first and have all of their attention.
She clicked her tongue in the direction of the exit nodding to the two men and accepting her wish, they turned to leave. Neteyam was hesitant for a moment, his eyes scanning over you one more time before he followed after his father. A look you all had noticed. Neytiri glanced from him to you, brows furrowed for a brief moment. She let it go though, deciding not to think about what it meant. Instead, she released your hair from the last braid and ran her fingers through the soft waves.
Kiri went to gather the newly beaded top she had made for you and Tuk released you to follow after her sister. Neytiri smoothing out your hair moved to face you. As she looked down at you, you couldn’t help but notice that her eyes appeared far more gentle than you would have ever thought they would be when looking at you. As much as you had changed, matured, and begun to see the world differently, so did she.
She had learned to accept you as everyone else had and slowly realized how right her husband had been about everything — you, your past, and the hold you seemed to have on her children after all these years. Your heart was kind and strong and belonged among them more than she had ever realized.
She smiled, “How are you feeling? Ready?”
“Yes,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper as you stared over at the beautiful woman who wasn’t that much taller than you.
It was then that Neytiri realized how grown up you were, almost nineteen with an entire life ahead of you within the village. She took notice of how more and more every day you began to appear less like a girl and more like a woman. Even with you only having the avatar for less than a year, she could see how evident the changes were before you. And it all started and ended with how you saw her and everyone around you, with such clarity and endless love.
“I am nervous,” you whispered then and her smile suddenly widened.
“You have nothing to worry about. Eywa has accepted you among the people and understands your heart more than anyone. She sees you and now you will be one of us for the rest of time. Na’viyä hapxì (one of the people).”
You thought you had known what it would be like, what it would feel like. It was a moment you had been thinking about nonstop from the moment Neytiri had granted you permission to learn the Na’vi ways from her son. You thought you had gone through all the possibilities of how it would play out, what would be said, what you would be wearing, and ultimately how you would feel. None of it could have prepared you. Not in the slightest as no one can really understand what being born twice feels like. Or what that level of acceptance feels like. No one can possibly know until it happens to them.
That is what you realized when you walked out a mere half hour later, your head in the stars and body completely lit with the possibilities of life laid out before you. Dressed in the most carefully crafted purple beaded top, you felt the eyes follow you, taking in the new woven necklaces and the sudden way your hair fell so differently. Instead of tightly pulled together in small braids, it fell softly and in natural waves with the top half pulled back out of your face, a large flower laced into it.
White paint decorated every inch of your skin, done by Neytiri, across your entire face, and down your torso. It brought out the gold in your eyes and drew attention to the gentle curve of your lips. A songchord hung from a thin band tightly wrapped around your waist and everyone glanced curiously at the Waytelem and how proudly you wore it. It held very few beads, but the newest sage green hollowed-out bead was the most noticeable.
The clan clumped together in a crowd watching on as the young woman slowly approached the Sully family that stood proudly in front of everyone, all beside Jake Sully the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. They and everyone else couldn’t deny the beauty that was brought out of a person walking with their own heart clasped openly in their hands. At that moment you were no longer an alien to ogle at. The extra finger on both hands didn’t hold any other significance, and you were no longer a sky person to them. Instead, you were just a young woman, a young Na’vi looking to be given a place among the people.
The people began to collapse around you, quiet prayers falling from their lips as Jake stepped towards you, dressed as the king he was destined to be. The Sully family followed, surrounding you; Neteyam on one side and Neytiri on the other. Beside her, Mo’at with Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak standing behind you. Your eyes flickered to the side to find Neteyam, his eyes already staring straight at you, shining proudly.
Jake raised his hands up in the air, all attention on him. A smile spread widely across your face as for a moment he was brought back to his ceremony, his own rebirth before the Omatikaya. He knew how you felt, he knew how overwhelming and wonderful it was to be seen differently than the five-fingered alien that stumbled across the village.
He peered into your eyes and fully understood every emotion that flickered within your eyes, “Ngenga ‘ite Omatikayaä luyu set. Na’viyä luyu hapxì (You are now a daughter of the Omaticaya. You are part of The People).”
His hands then fell to your shoulders. Then slowly, following their Olo’eyktan you felt hands appear across your side and along your back — all starting with the feeling of Neteyam’s pressing along your chest, right where your heart was. He felt the way it picked up in your chest and as you glanced up at him, you found him smiling.
Neytiri and Mo’at’s hands were felt across your side and Lo’ak and Kiri’s palms were pressed firmly along your back with Tuk claiming your stomach. From there the rest of the clan followed. People of the village grabbed onto the shoulders of whoever was standing in front of them and just as Kiri had described, a circle had formed, of intertwined arms all connected before Eywa with you at the center — the center of the Great Mother’s heart. Closing your eyes, it was like your life had become complete, like every moment spent in your human form had been a sacrifice that would one day lead you to this.
As you opened your eyes, a single tear falling, you met the gaze of Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, Olo’eyktan, past dream walker and you knew then without a doubt, no matter what happened your life was complete.
As soon as the ceremony was over, you were pulled into hugs, arms clasping around your form, laughter and encouraging words whispered in your ears. The second the circle had started to diminish, you felt Kiri practically leap onto your back, her arms winding under your shoulders to pull you back against her chest. You laughed as her head leaned against yours, her joy painting your skin in the form of tears. You felt another frame sneak around her sister, appearing at your side and swiftly wrapping her smaller arms around your torso, not even caring that the white paint was transferring onto her skin. Tuk.
Neytiri remained in the same stop she had been during the ceremony, the corners of her lips lifted up softly as her eyes glossed over, unable to look away from the sight of her children winding themselves around you. She could see then how wrong she had been. How wrong she had been about it all, evident in the way the children cried for you, their hearts so full of love in that moment You had their hearts and in return gave yours back to them.
As the two sisters finally released you from their grasp, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found Lo’ak bashfully staring at you with a small smile, his eyes hesitantly looking over you. His proposal flashed in your head but seeing the boyish expression on his face, your eyes softened and you reached out to him. His whole body flushed with relief as you stepped closer to him. His arms wrapped around your upper back and pulled you tightly against him. He couldn’t help the happiness he felt at the feeling of your nose pressed along his cheek and you returning his embrace just as firmly.
Even with all of the waves of emotions that were drowning you in every positive feeling you could think of, a hole appeared in your chest. One that suddenly caught your attention over the chatter of voices within your ears. It was like you could still feel where his hands were moments before. His absence was prominent and you couldn’t help but look around frantically, spinning around in the hopes you would find his braided hair or brightly beaded chest guard. It was as if Eywa had whispered in your ear to look for him and everything else that had mattered in the forefront of your mind was gone. No, all you could hear pulsing loudly in your ears was... Neteyam.
Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam.
The boy who now could be considered a man had done this for you; had helped you get to this point, had spent countless hours with you telling you every little secret he had within his back pocket about the forest, about the Na’vi, and about Eywa herself. The man who had swept you away without you even realizing it and had captured you with his attractiveness and attentiveness. The future Olo’eyktan who you knew you could never have left an ache in you, one that had altered your very being as dramatic as it sounded. During that time full of celebration and success, all you wished for was to get a glimpse of him.
Your shoulders deflated though as in the swarm of blue, his taller frame was nowhere to be seen. As if he wasn’t even there at all but a figment of your imagination. Glancing around, you realized that Jake Sully was also missing and you knew then that there hadn’t been a moment to waste.
In fact, as soon as you were being pulled into Lo’ak’s embrace, Neteyam was already on top of his Ikran flying off into the night sky beside his father. The only thing occupying his mind was the look on your face when he placed his hands on you during the ceremony.
Just as Jake had stated, the sky people were chipping away at the territory line drawn, marching through in large metal suits carrying guns in their hands. Those who walked bravely on their feet were alive from the oxygen masks pulled tightly across their faces. Others that weren’t holding guns were scanning the area with things Neteyam couldn’t name. But he watched as the machines and glass screens scanned the plants, the ground, and the foliage, all of it searching for traces of either Unobtainium or traces of Na’vi DNA. Either they were fine with. If they didn’t find any, Neteyam watched in horror as they burned whatever was in front of them like it was useless. To them though it was.
Neteyam had witnessed their destructive behavior many times, while he and his brother acted as spotters with their father leading the raids and stealing equipment. There was no empathy, no fairness in the affairs of men, and definitely not in a war. As the strong older brother, he was forced to keep it together for his younger siblings and the people of the clan — that was his burden along with taking on this impossible role. He felt as if Eywa was on their side when the sky people began to retreat the last few years like they were respecting the boundaries. He knew though that they didn’t operate like that and they never had. Their pullback and minor activity allowed the clan to stay in the forest and the village, living as they always wanted. He could see now that they hadn’t pulled back or they had been hiding at all, but rather taking the time to prepare.
Preparing to someday have the technology and the equipment to strike again and have it worth something. It seemed their days of preparing had come to an end and they were ready. Neteyam’s mouth was pulled into a tight line and for a moment his father’s voice droned off — all of the military talk, the orders of strategies, or the terminology that was trying to be passed down from one leader to another didn’t matter anymore. Because from above, for the first time, Neteyam watched his entire world begin to burn before his eyes, and the only sound he could make out was the cries from Eywa herself.
He had gotten back to the village late and it was even later when his father released him from the confines of a long conversation — a conversation he didn’t wish to be a part of. He wasn’t Olo’eyktan yet and even though he had just turned nineteen, no one seemed to see that the warrior before them was still so young. He had duties, and expectations, and just like he had admitted to you all those months ago, he was the protector. The burden installed on a firstborn son as his future was hung up in the stars. He didn’t have time to fall apart.
With that thought, he knew what he did have time for even with the world burning around him — you. Your ceremony, which had seemed so far away for months, had appeared in the blink of an eye. Somehow all of your nights together were behind him. The nights of confessing things he had never thought he could say to another person. Nights where you guys swam in the cool water, soaking in how alive it made you feel. Nights where he had wanted to reach over and hold your hand in his or possibly do something more. All of those suddenly were a part of the past; now that he knew what he knew, he wanted one more.
He saw the lights that were still glowing from the old tree. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe you were there — had decided to wait for him. Left the candles, sat down on a hand-stitched tapestry, and were waiting for him to walk in any moment. He thought about you sitting, bare legs crossed out in front of you, still wearing the hand-crafted beaded top you had been wearing earlier, your soft hair flowing down your back. He thought about your soft lips that would be parted softly in shock when he finally arrived and then instantly lift into a soft smile.
Neteyam wondered what they felt like, how they would fit against his — how they would taste. He wondered how you would taste. Guilt appeared then because this was not the first time he had thought about you this way. In all honesty, it had been going on for months starting at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling. Then, his thoughts of you changed, staring with your lips, to something less than innocent. He would never admit it to anyone though, not when you were the one on his mind when his hands ended up between his thighs at night.
Somehow it had become normal to him, his hidden affection for you. As well as the desire that filled his body when he thought about you, especially when you looked at him with that pinched expression you usually acquired whenever he was being a jackass. It was wrong of him to do that. It always had been because you were never his and he knew that you never would be. However, it wouldn’t stop him from thinking about it for one last night.
As he stepped into the opening of the tree, he realized that you weren't there at all but it was his two siblings. They were standing close to one another talking under their breaths as if they didn’t want anyone else to hear. Kiri was practically yelling at Lo’ak even with her attempt to whisper, and the tone of her voice felt like a hot knife running across both the boys' skin.
Neteyam approached curiously, not drawing either of their attention. Lo’ak’s arms were crossed over his chest and based on the look in his eye, he was being defensive. That usually meant he had done something he clearly shouldn’t have.
“How could you do this Lo’ak? How could you do this to Y/N?” Kiri snapped for the hundredth time at her brother, a protectiveness over you and a seriousness that she thought he would have understood. A type of feeling she thought they all had for you but clearly, she was wrong because if Lo’ak felt the same, then he wouldn’t have done this. She never sounded this way, this upset.
Neteyam now a few feet from them, watched as Lo’ak raised his hands in the air and let them fall to his sides in annoyance. “To her? Kiri, I am doing this for her."
"Really, are you sure she feels that way?" Kiri sent back.
"It is not that big of a deal. You’re acting as if I did something wrong.”
Her eyes widened and she swore under her breath as her hands tightened at her sides with a sudden inclination to smack her brother across the face. Lo’ak stared at her, waiting for an outburst, or for her to curse him out or worse tell their parents. He waited and tapped his foot obnoxiously.
“Not that big of a deal?” she said then, incredulously, eyes narrowing further, “Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate.”
A second.
The prolonging silence, accompanied by a sweep of denial was the first thing he could feel as the disarming words repeated back in his mind.
Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate. The words felt like an endless pit as they filled Neteyam’s ears, unable to fully register if what he heard was true. All breath had been stolen from his lungs out of disbelief. A disbelief that left him feeling suffocated as his frantic eyes flickered back and forth between his brother and sister.
His hands clenched and unclenched with every second that passed, each becoming more agonizing than the last. The silence was palpable, completely torturous as the words he had never even pondered a day in his life suddenly ripped holes into his body. The shock had taken over his system and like an endless cycle he kept repeating the tormentful sentence in his head and by the third time, he felt the images start to distort before him.
As if he could feel his own cold blood under his touch staining his palms at the sight of you and his younger brother filling his mind. The destruction to his very being. Lo’ak held your hands as he asked you the question that would lead to Neteyam's demise. Lo’ak wrapping his arms around you. Lo’ak kissing you. Lo’ak getting to explore every part of your body that Neteyam had craved for himself like a moth to a flame. Lo’ak mating you. A thought that could only encourage the bullets in his chest to tear and taint what was left of his sanity. You asked her to be your mate.
After the sixth time, the shock seemed to settle in his bones and effortlessly turned to grief. As if the mercy he had begged for was not spared and instead led to his morbid end. Then with a much-delayed reaction, it felt like a kiss of life was bestowed on him. It traveled to his heart in the form of icy water, sending a thousand bolts of electricity through him, telling him to wake up from the bitter daydream.
He was again rewarded with reality perpetuating his mind and brought him back to the sight before him. His sister angrily glared at Lo'ak, who refused to fall honorably under her will and admit that his actions were wrong. It was no longer Neteyam that was in denial but his younger brother.
Then the icy water replaced all of the blood in his body, and a new feeling formed. His eyes twitched, head spiraling with rage, sending his senses into chaos. Unlike all of the times before when he had felt the green monster create feelings of irritation or insecurity, he knew this was something else. No, this was so much more than that.
It was a rage that was felt with every fiber of his being, every nerve of his entire self. That’s how undeniably pissed Neteyam was; like his entire world had crumbled before him and the lone destructor was his brother. His own brother he had spent his whole life being told to protect, taking the blame for because it meant he was doing what was asked of him. All of his life was spent putting up with Lo’ak and sacrificing everything for him. Now, all that was left in Neteyam’s chest was the feeling of complete and utter betrayal. In itself that was the worst rage to have.
“You did what!”
Breaths were stolen as his voice cut through the night's air. His voice sounded so foreign even to himself, so cold, and so desolate of any emotion. With a sharp intake, both siblings turned around.
Kiri stood still as she realized her anger was nothing compared to the future clan leader. To her, it was like a dark shadow had fallen over her brother’s features. He stood, tall, hands tightly bound into fists. She flinched lightly, merely watching as he tilted his head towards Lo’ak. She had never seen Neteyam this angry and she knew that it had been her words that had been the cause of it.
Lo’ak could feel the rage pulsating from his brother’s body, the brother who hadn't thrown a punch at him since they were no older than eight and six years old. His older brother who had always protected him and taken his side no matter what, somehow was no longer there. That Neteyam wasn't there anymore and Lo'ak knew exactly why.
It was you and he knew it because Neteyam wouldn't act like this for just anything or anyone. Lo'ak had known far too well the feelings his older brother harbored for you, secretly of course, because Neteyam could never admit it out loud. It was almost as if you were some secret to keep locked away until nighttime fell. Lo’ak finally knew that the one thing Neteyam suddenly truly wanted, away from everything else he had been given was you. However, the world wasn't set up for people to get what they wanted and Lo'ak couldn't care about Neteyam's feelings.
Because where Neteyam could never have you, he got everything else; the pride from his parents, the praise from the clan, the admiration of all the women in the village, the title of Olo’eyktan, and being described as the headstrong warrior. The older Sully sibling had it all and somehow Lo’ak couldn’t feel bad for what he had done, not when it came to you.
“Oh, look the perfect little soldier has returned,” he said, provokingly, ignoring the way Kiri’s eyes widened at his choice of words.
Neteyam growled under his breath and stepped forward, the anger in his eyes only igniting further, “Really, that’s how you want to go about this right now? Perfect little soldier! Really, Lo'ak?”
Lo’ak’s face twisted, jaw clenching to match his brother’s, “Yes, I think I do.”
Neteyam sighed, one that sounded more dejected than it did angry, “Please don’t tell me that what Kiri says is true. You wouldn’t do this.”
“Except that I did, brother. I asked Y/N to be my mate.”
“Lo’ak,” Kiri warned but he sent a glare her way and suddenly she found herself no longer wanting to intervene.
She shook her head unable to understand what Lo’ak was doing or how he could be saying any of those things — as if his resentment had taken over and his initial awareness of everything else was nowhere to be seen.
Neteyam’s tail swished angrily, aiding in how he kept clenching his fists. His voice was low, scary even, “How could you?”
“How could I? Are you fucking kidding me?” Lo’ak cursed, sarcasm dripping from his voice as you flickered through his mind.
You, Y/N Y/L/N were sweet, strong, and absolutely stunning. You were everything that any man could want and somehow you had gotten yourself all tangled up in a fish line — a fish line that belonged to his brother. A fish line that would never be pulled in. You were falling for Neteyam and Lo'ak couldn’t bare to see it someday destroy you.
Everyone knew about the plan, about Mrs. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the soon-to-be Tsahik and he wasn’t about to watch one of his closest friends waste her time pining over someone she could never have. He wasn’t going to let that happen to you, especially if Mo’at reconsidered your transfer request. He wasn’t about to watch you spend the rest of your life alone, hoping his brother would one day come to his senses. Neteyam was full of too much pride for that and he followed the rules far too close to ever go against what is asked of him.
“Neteyam, you will never be able to be with her, do you realize that?”
His body stiffened at Lo’ak’s claim. How he had been called out so effortlessly after months, after half of a year hiding how he felt about you. After spending so much time hiding it because he knew better than anyone how true Lo'ak's words were. In fact, he was reminded of it every day. Future Olo'eyktan, that's all he had ever been and all he would ever be seen as for the rest of his life. Everyone's expectations of him weren't suddenly known to him.
Lo’ak inhaled, voice lowering slightly, “You can't be with her, and I didn’t do this to hurt you, Neteyam. I did this for her. I don’t want her to be alone. I asked her to be my mate because she deserves someone who wants to be with her. Someone who won’t put everything else before her, especially their duties.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Neteyam hissed, voice laced with despair.
“And she at least deserves someone who can admit their feelings for her out loud.”
Even if what Lo'ak said was completely true, Neteyam couldn't listen to him anymore. Instead, he took the time to wonder how Lo’ak had even gotten to the point to ask you this. You were a dream walker. A sky person at night and their mother had firmly set a line, boundaries that clearly stated you shouldn’t be mating with anyone unless you were to become a full Na’vi. His eyes widened then, his thoughts stopping short as he realized.
A full Na’vi.
His face, once twisted in blistering sorrow, now was coiled with anger. Eyes narrowing, they never left Lo’ak's frame, as the question left his mouth like an irrefutable fact. “Why did you ask her now?”
“What do you mean?”
Neteyam took a step closer to his brother, rage the epitome of his being, his protectiveness of you taking priority over everything else, “Mother clearly said that Y/N wasn’t allowed to mate with anyone as long as she was still a dream walker. So tell me, brother, why did you ask her now?”
Lo’ak's eyes fell for a moment, finding interest in the ground, realizing then that the worst was yet to come. As it was the same reason Kiri had been angry with Lo’ak in the first place — it wasn’t because he had asked you to be his mate, it was why he asked you to be his mate. The transfer ritual. The ritual that had the ability to take your life.
“Lo’ak, ‘eyng! (Answer),” Neteyam demanded, already having a suspicion about the answer that would come out of his brother’s mouth. A suspicion of the reasoning behind all of it.
Slowly, Lo’ak lifted his head to look at Neteyam who was full of so much fear it was being expressed as aggression. He shook his head, finally finding the strength to admit it out loud, “Since she went to see Mo’at about a consciousness transfer.”
A second.
Then it was like a bomb went off in Neteyam’s head, a blaring warning of the inevitable end that was soon to come. His ears were ringing and his sight had blurred and at that moment he hadn’t comprehended what he was doing until he had already done it.
The punch had sent Lo’ak barreling back, shock appearing on his face along with a fresh trail of blood falling from his cheek, where the skin had been ripped open. He reached up and let his fingers brush along the cut, hissing out in pain as his older brother stared at him with the coldest look he had ever seen.
Kiri had gasped, “Neteyam!”
“You fucker!” Neteyam mumbled out, hand still tightly clenched together his brother’s blood now smeared across his fist, “You motherfucker. How could you be so selfish?”
“Selfish?” Lo’ak chuckled now just in mere disbelief, “Seriously?”
“You just don’t say anything! You let her request a transfer and you don’t say anything! What the fuck is wrong with you Lo’ak?”
“Neteyam, stop,” Kiri spoke again, her voice firm
Instead, he stepped forward, the furrow in his brow still evident, and fist raising slightly in the air. Lo’ak shook his head and let out a laugh as he glanced down at the drops of blood on his chest “You know what? Fuck this.”
Lo'ak lunged forward then, his hand clasped tightly into a fist, punching Neteyam square in the side of the head. Knuckles broke skin, right above the warrior's left eyebrow. Kiri hissed under her breath, somehow beginning to feel like her mother did when she once had to deal with stupid men and their need to solve problems with their fists, “Ftang! (stop) Both of you.”
Neteyam stumbled back but only for a moment as he regained his strength immediately. He smirked slightly, not even bothering to check the damage as he bound forward again. Getting a hold of Lo’ak, they both fell to the ground and suddenly it had become a conversation turned to punches being thrown back and forth. Neteyam had managed to get multiple in, not even holding back on his strength, until Lo’ak managed to get a leg up in between them, kneeing his older brother straight in the side.
“Ftang (stop)!”
Neteyam’s abdomen clenched and the sudden impact knocked the wind out of him, giving Lo’ak the opportunity to roll over on top of him. Lo’ak with the upper hand began to throw punches into his brother’s sides rather than his face. Hissing out, Neteyam felt his body recoil at every harsh throw to his torso and it was like there was nothing left. Nothing left in him to bargain for or intangibly fix. The pain was all-consuming at that point, his brain unable to wash away the deception he felt.
Letting out a yell, Neteyam sent a barreling hook into Lo’ak’s chin knocking him off balance. With the opportunity, he shoved his younger brother back and off of him. Lo’ak hit the ground hard, his back sliding across the dirt, creating more cuts.
Scrambling up on his feet, Neteyam wiped the blood from his face and stepped towards his brother’s frame, suddenly defenseless. He struggled to breathe but gathered all the strength he could and as he towered over his younger brother, he felt his respect for Lo’ak disappear completely. Staring down, he took notice of the blood sliding down across the side of Lo’ak’s face as well as the deep cut that was made across his upper lip. A bruise was already forming around his eyes, and his hands were splattered with Neteyam’s blood.
As he looked down at him, a flicker of the past appeared in front of his eyes. A smaller Lo’ak, an innocent helpless child who followed him around, asking him to teach him to hunt. A child who paraded around the village on Neteyam's tail trying to get him to play with him. For a moment as he stared down at Lo'ak, all he saw was his younger troublesome brother who was almost two years younger than him. Then in an instant, that old version was gone, like it was nothing but a ghost of the past, and in its place remained the Lo’ak he had been dealing with for years. The one he felt had hurt him in the worst way possible.
Kiri was staring at her brothers in disbelief and watched with fear as Neteyam stood huffing over Lo’ak, still full of so much anger. A look and feeling none of them thought he was capable of directing at someone in his family, let alone his younger brother. Luckily, before anything else could happen, all three siblings felt their attention be ripped away by the sound of heavy footsteps soon accompanied by a bellowing voice. One that was far scarier than even Neteyam’s.
Jake had heard from a rider of the clan that they had spotted his two sons yelling at one another in the old tree. He sighed, already annoyed about having to deliver a long lecture as well as a kick in the ass to both of his sons. A parenting moment that he didn’t have time for. Having heard the rider’s words, Neytiri looked over at her husband in slight disbelief. With Tuk tucked away in bed, both parents began to make their way to the old sacred tree.
What had been described as a mere argument seemed to be so much more as they heard their daughter yelling inside at her two brothers, accompanied by the sounds of colliding fists and painful grunts. They broke out into a run then and as Jake sprinted to the tree, he felt his stomach drop at the sight of his two sons tangled on the ground punches flying at one another.
As he stepped foot inside, he found Neteyam towering over Lo’ak both of them covered in blood and bruises. Kiri stood by, arms wrapped around herself with tears filling her eyes. He surveyed the scene and felt all reason leave his body. His stare hardened and his entire body tensed up at a sight he never expected to see.
“Hey! What the fuck do you two think you are doing?”
As they got closer, Neytiri gasped at the appearance of her two sons, battered and bruised far worse than she had ever seen before. Approaching Kiri, she took her hand in hers while her own expression seethed fire, “Kehe (no)! What happened?”
Jake took a hold of Lo’ak and pulled him up and off the ground, his expression was sharp as knives as his hand firmly gripped his youngest son’s arm.
“It was one thing to hear a rider tell me that he can hear both of my sons screaming and at each other’s throats about something but it was another to come and find you two idiots trying to beat each other to a pulp!”
Neteyam wasn’t even looking at his father, instead deathly still with a distraught look pained across his face. His brother's glare twists in his chest and at the hollow feeling in his throat, he couldn't help but look down at his hands and his body. Blood coating his skin like heavy rain, resembled the only feeling still piercing his chest.
“What the fuck has gotten into the two of you?” Jake demanded.
He was met with a deafening silence. Neytiri hissed at her two sons, the disbelief that such anger could be taken out on each other evident on her face. “Answer your father!”
Feeling the tightness of his father’s grip, Lo’ak's mouth parted like he was going to answer, but before he could say anything Neteyam beat him to it, his voice raw and empty, “Nothing.”
“Nothing, really?” Jake chuckled, angrily, “Why don’t you take a look at your brother’s face and tell me if that does something to jog your memory.”
Neteyam's lips sealed shut, eyes refusing to look away from his blood-covered knuckles. At his silence, Jake huffed so loudly it drew a shaky breath out of Kiri as he directed his glare away from Neteyam to Lo'ak. Except Lo’ak wouldn't dare break first.
Jaked growled, reaching out to grab Neteyma’s forearm to try and get his attention. His glaring eyes could not stop looking between his two sons, ablazed. His sight turned red and his expression was rigid as his teeth gritted together.
“You both better come up with an answer real quick or you’re going to get knots in your tails. You read me?”
His grip had loosened slightly however as he looked back over at Neteyam. The tightness of his jaw and the quiver of his bleeding lips took Jake by surprise. It was a look he had never seen on his son before. Tears welled up in the young soldier's eyes and he fought to keep them from escaping in front of his father. Warriors don't cry and they sure as hell don't cave in. They don't get crushed under the weight of a broken heart because there are others to be concerned about.
With his ears pulled back, he felt the tightness in his chest worsen. Jake shared a look with Neytiri and it was like they both could identify the exact feeling laced across their son's face. Defeat.
Jake's mouth parted in shock as Neteyam suddenly ripped his arm free and turned swiftly on his heels, heading straight for the exit.
HUHU PLEASE DONT SAY AVATAR FANDOM IS DYING I HAVE NOT RECOVERED FROM MY LAST FANDOM’s DEATH i will give you everything; writings, drawings, idk EVERYTHING just dont leave and die down hueheue
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Neteyam’s death was really hard on you. Lo’ak knew as much, and provides himself as a shoulder to lean on.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): SPOILERS!!! Angst, mentions of dying, mentions of suicide attempt, some fluff at the end.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,605
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Neteyam Sully x omitacaya!fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you guys enjoy it!! <33 I can’t remember where I read it, maybe the avatar wiki fan page, I forgot, but it said something about diving with a buddy because the disconnection from the spirit tree could be too much for the visiter, which would result in an almost death, so that’s why someone must go down with the visiter. I thought it was neat and included that bit here.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ featuring Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, Omaticayan female self-insert character, 3.6k words, angst, fluff, comfort, mention of bloods, not edited
HIS BEAUTEOUS BRIDE ; masterlist on pinned
˗ˏˋ (.n) Forgive his grief for one almost removed, Ma Eywa, Thy creature, whom Neteyam found so fair. He cannot know such loss. For how the red will always besmirch his hands in forever guilt. ´ˎ˗
One.
“Is it possible to avoid the war?”
A quiver within her voice earned a tilt of the taller male’s head. The rain water dripped down from the tip of his braided hair, Neteyam himself had no utterance for the horror etched within the irises of his ladylove. The couple stopped by the quiet beach, far from the tumultuous area where the Chief— Tonowari, had declared to bring war upon the Sky People. The demons are approaching close, and that is when they realize their peace in this land meets its end. Yet, Eywa had sent the rain; it brings peace to both their heads, light wind roams the hairs, ocean waves dance alongside the swirl of wind. A perfect place for a runaway.
She has tried to prevent him from going.
Two.
“Make haste!”
Penetrating voices swallowed by the wind, leaving the vessels of adolescents who fought their best to help a Tulkun. Two pairs of morose pupils drowned in each other, basking in weariness as she shook her head soon as the sught of her lover— Neteyam, was going to use himself as bait. In no second thought, the maiden jumped in, tightening her hold to Neteyam’s waist as her ears caught a distaste click from his tongue upon showing his protest for how careless she is to come with him in danger, yet she heeded nothing. She would be so kind to save it for the other day inasmuch as today they can avoid the war. She would be so kind to hear his protective words alongside the warm hold if it means they can go home, to each other’s arms.
She shall adhere to the distress if it means she can ensure Neteyam is safe.
Three.
Home feels far away.
Blood runs cold, the sentence keeps repeating itself within that poor little head of hers as the roaring shotguns fill the air. The wind has knocked out the supply of her lungs, Eywa, what can she do? She has not yet let any infidelity interfere with her tenet to stay, to adhere with her love to the depths of hell itself. This is hell.
“You can not ask me to go!”
Her throat has cutted off the source of her hoarse voice. For the sad old laughters they shared hours ago; but has trouble enough of its own. The echo of fire comes to a halt whilst her small hands react before her mind can think a word, that yet comes into a train of, ‘Neteyam is going to get a hole.’
It shrinks from a voicing woe her lips can mutter, voiceless even, for the ocean engulfs her cold body. This debt she pays to the redemption, of the man she loves.
“Beloved?” Eeriness radiates from the lenient voice of his, eyes meet eyes. His honey eyes, the dreadful look within these as he stares to the darkened shade of the ocean around her limp head. His honey eyes, hold so much untold emotion that he could never morph it into the words, presenting it from the way he embraces her, muscles working so fast amongst the water.
Ma Eywa, this can not be— what kind of grave mistake Neteyam has committed for him to deserve such a near tragedy upon his very eyes?
How the remorse spreads within a second to his vein as her eyes catch the scene upon him. The love of Neteyam’s life, shot. The fear he felt on the ship minutes ago is nothing compared to the fright that consumes his entire soul, compared to the feeling of guilt for not insisting on his lover, harder, to leave before him. A choked scream towards his father leaves his pale lips as his intellectual mind works too fast, too fast, to draw the following scenes of her life with her absence. Following eons without her presence. That this running red supply Eywa provided him will be his own curse, for he will despise it until then its dropping temperature— for not using his life way much better, to protect whom he loves.
With torn and bleeding heart Neteyam embraces her hand, and mouth with myriad subtleties. “Be here with me, okay?”
Why should the world be under-wise, in counting all his tears and sighs upon seeing the shallow breath from her trembling lips?
“Teyam— it hurts.” The wind carries her throat.
“My love, my sweet, beautiful, girl, I know. But please.”
Beneath the limp body lies the rock, bearing the flow of red from one gaping hole on back shoulder, and, oh, her lower back. In broad daylight the eclipse illuminates the glistening tears upon her pale cheeks. A poor life this if, full of consciousness, Neteyam has no time to stand and witness the blood leaving her tiny body.
“Tsireya, Tsireya! Get us to your mother!”
No farewell yet leaves his quivering lips to his parents, feeling the weight of her figure upon him as he keeps the warmth of his body whilst the coldness of the sea embraces them once more. The movement of that strong body is like a picturesque of a raging thunderstorm during a tempest, not even the crying Metkayinan lady behind can follow the haste.
“Keep her up, Neteyam!”
Hearing the trembling voice he glances down, heart thrumming in horror as his sight catches those wet eyelashes drooped, eyelids disguising the light of her orbs. “No, eyes open, okay? Can you do that, for me, hm?”
He finds comfort for himself in placing a chaste kiss upon her forehead, a quiet whimper stabs his hearing. Neteyam can not know such loss, not upon his own useless hands that cannot atone the silent oath he whispered upon her sleeping self, many eclipses ago. He pledged the entire world to bring in her feet in exchange for blithesome she can feel, yet this, such tragedy is one he can bring her?
Neteyam can not know such loss.
The gravity has scorched him down to the core, singed to ash; the very same petite body he embraces every night, the very same small body he adores when it sways gracefully in music, that frail body, has to taste such agony that rots her. When he beats his heart; it is not a carol of sorrow nor woe, but a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core, a plea, that upward to Eywa he flings—
Later his eyes catch a glimpse of another figure in the shore. Whilst the heaviness his heart bares, a knot chokes his throat he screams the Tsahik who puts her spear in storage after the war. A loud screech rings within her hearing as an immeasurable shot of pain takes her nervous system much more, yet the poor maiden still manages to feel a warm presence of her lover, tasting the salty tears that drop onto her cold cheeks.
In hurry the Tsahik Ronal assists the three teenagers to her marui beside the Sully’s, ensuring that she can not move for days so better to place her already in her comfort place. The tips of her body are cold as ice. It brings shiver to Neteyam’s body as he provides the heat by his hold.
His eyes are latched onto the figure, it goes silent even the bustling of Ronal and Tsireya— alongside Max and Norm who were deciding to have a stay for some days since their arrival days ago on the matter of Kiri’s seizure.
Those dilated pupils losing its light, rolled beads of cold sweat on her temple, lips as pale as the bright blue sky. Has Neteyam not know eversince the liquid damps his own face, he sits his body with his darling lies on top of him— giving a better access for Ronal to check her back wounds.
Ever so gently his fingers caress her wet hair, pushing it aside to get a better look of her gorgeous face despite the lack of the blood. Etching a comforting smile, Neteyam has to perform might still to reassure the one who needs her support-system. Neteyams has to appear strong despite how much his heart has been crushed.
“Neteyam— dear,”
Lips placed upon his strong shoulder, her limp hands find its way to his back.
“Yes, my love?”
“I apologize.”
Oh, whatever for, my dear?
Shaking his head softly, he places her head further close to him, as Neteyam snuggles close to her crown in desperation. “Hush now, yeah? Baby, just, focus to come back to me.”
Hearing the thud of her fallen arm from his back, along with the drop of her head on his neck draws a written panic in Neteyam’s expression— as he swiftly his palms on her body, checking the heartbeat; oh Eywa, it is as faint as the flow stream of river in their home, in a hot day. Bathed in red of his lover, pupils shrinking in horror as his trembling hands caress her porcelain cheek, head hangs low in attempt to hear her shallow breath. “Sleep not!”
Sounds demanding yet to her it comes off a whisper, a low puff of breath leaving her mouth, hands barely can grasp his body close to her. She is cold, so cold it terrifies her. It scares her. “Do not leave me here—“
The silent wish she chants has an effect upon the falling tears from his eyes, lips not leaving the surface of her temple and cheek. “I will not— I shan’t.”
Neteyam does not even care if it is Ronal or Max who tends the wound, his head is spinning. The art of losing is not something Neteyam wants to know; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost in living as a Sully that any loss is a disaster. If he leaves the poor fainted Na’vi who fights for the thread of her life, he might not know whatever misery happens upon his family out there.
Yet, Neteyam has no heart to refuse the one who needs him the most. Not when the cause of this tragedy is him. No passing seconds yet to snatch the remorse from his poor heart.
Neteyam cannot lose the one he can only picture as the mother of his children. Neteyam cannot live with the grief of losing so much in one soul, that carries all dreams and wishes down to her grave.
A heart-torning scream brings his thought back to the scene before him— the bullets are getting scooped out from her body. Hastily Neteyam places his hand on her head, helping her in muffling the scream upon his shoulder. Brows furrowed in pain as she bites down on him, yet it bothers him no slightest for how she feels is infinite times than this.
This, will pass. O Eywa, say it. To the golden light she will be able to escort his hand to her merry life in laughter, swallowing each other in warm hugs. Its dolour will die as the eclipse dies down with the setting sun.
Whispering nothing but sweet encouragement to her dropped ears, as her body falls in great trembles for how much pain that frail body bears. It tastes like forever, for her. Endless shoot of agony has not yet left her even after the minutes of surgery. To his satisfaction, the maiden can finally fall asleep.
Neteyam tells himself, that assuaged and calm, she will rest again, forgetting a thing that is done. Those relieved eyes glance to The Tsahik, who later spreads the ointment of a medicine plant upon her wounds tended by Max in whatever the Sky People way. “We will now clean her up and you too.”
And take care of her he does. Prior given a bowl of warm water and a cloth, ever so carefully with the sleeping miss on top of him, he shoots a reassuring look to Tsireya who is bringing a new fresh fabric of her clothes. “I will do it, please, let me.”
Neteyam can see the dried tears upon Tsireya’s cheeks. “And please let me help you too. She is my best friend.”
Soft humming leaves his lips in fear of waking her up with his movement as he pulls the knot of her top and bottom, pulling off the now-red white clothes from her body. That Tsakarem of Awa’atlu dips the clean cloth into the warm water, before gently lifts her limp arm on the side of Neteyam’s body for her to clean up. It takes times, until the young lady is all clean and cozy in a fresh piece of clothes.
“Neteyam, it is your turn.”
Caressing the sleeping lover’s hair oh so gently, Neteyam shakes his head as he lets his cheek rest on her crown, not glancing a gaze at the other girl who is tidying up the remaining stuff. “Be later for I want to stay still like this for a while.”
Pulling a soft smile, Tsireya gladly lets him be as she makes her way out of the room— but not before she places a blanket over her friend’s body.
And, as he is left with silence, the silent tear falls freely. Eyelids flutter close to hide the morose yellow eyes. Never shall Neteyam forget those dreads that consumed his heart upon seeing the love of his life laying in no life force. Never shall he forget the doldrums that deprived him for all eternity of the desire to live without the presence of her— that was so close to slipping away from his grasp.
One step closer and she is gone, has Neteyam murder the soul of his. Whom he loves, he promised his life for, he has loved ever since he can shoot his first arrow with his small hands— how can a man bear such tragedy of losing such a love?
Engulfing her in his embrace, Neteyam rests his back in a comfortable position, pulling the blanket further to her shoulders. He will hold her as long as he can, not letting any cruelty this world can give to take her away.Two nights have passed since and yet there is no sign of her waking up any time soon. The night after the war ended, Neytiri and Jake were quickly rushed to her place; the cry of relief streamed down the mother’s cheeks as she fell to her knees, caressing both her son and his darling. Jake, however, could breathe freely now he had made sure no one was endangered; well, at least, no funeral at that night.
Neteyam left her, once, to bathe and eat. And to come back into her marui, letting the silence consume him as the sight of her laying on her stomach, eyes fluttering close still, will come to ache his heart.
Ever so gently, he will move into the position; where he becomes her bed, for him to engulf her, placing her head upon his shoulder so that he can feel every warm breath, a gentle reminder that she is still here, alive. The running golf within her veins has not stopped, the flowing of breath in her lungs has not cutted off.
It is a night he spends regularly as his amber eyes vividly stare into the wave flowing beyond the sea; bioluminescent plants underwater illuminate his glowing freckles, yet no lights can ever glow the pitiful look upon his handsome face. He bears his sorrow heavily.
Then, a soft sigh brings his tilted head down; from the shadow shaken on his figure, he witnesses how those long eyelashes batting ever so slightly, eyelids revealing those glimmering yellow orbs. Gasping from his lips, Neteyam lets his palm slip into her cheek. “Hey.”
Blinking, gentle smile creeps into her lips. “Hello, my love.”
Though it is sounding faint, the greeting itself has brought a warm envelope to his heart. Tongue ought to utter many words of gratitude upon showing a carol of joy, yet Neteyam only shuts his lips on her forehead, to her nose, and cheeks. Still, her weak smile falters since a wetness falls into her face.
“My Neteyam, why the tears?”
Voice oh so subtle it ached his heart— eyes widening slightly at the touch of her fingertips upon his face, Neteyam brings his hand to hers, as he snuggles close to her warm palm. “Do not ever do that to my heart.”
Letting out a small giggle, her eyes come into a crescent so beautifully under the laugh. She has a love for him, to the depth and breadth of her life it brings no regret upon dipping his feet into the pool of tormenting acid for him. At last, the fear she indeed felt on the brink of death gate has vanished. No one wants to leave and to be left, no?
Thumb caresses the tears away from his cheekbone, her eyes wander down to his lips. “Only way to save you, ‘Teyam.”
Oh, as if the world has not yet allowed to open the curtain, whispers coming to answer another murmur, just love speaking for the two souls only.
“I do not need saving, not from you, I can not sta—“
His low yet distressed voice gets cutted off with a small peck upon his lips. Yet, she does not heed to pull her face away, letting their nose meet in contentment— eyes fluttering close finally in a moment of absorbing each other’s comfort. Her hands slowly creep up to bask his tense body with her affection, calming his nerves with a soft humming; gentle reminder that all is over.
“It is not you, yawntu. It is me, regarding my heart, that cannot bear a lifetime without you. I will gladly spend a short one if it means I can be with you in it.” Gently, she moves her head, nose caressing his one in comfort.
A choked gasp leaves him, as his much bigger hands meets her face, cradling lovingly. “You are egoist. You only think about your feelings, have you ever considered mine? You will carry my breath away to your grave— Eywa, no, you did make me lose my pedestal on living, by seeing you basking in blood and wounds. I am not worth saving, Flower.”
He has built his life without the moment excluding her name, her presence. His dream, is her. She is the air that he breathes, there is no medicine that shall patch his heart if he ever loses her for nothing.
“Not worth it? How come your mouth can say such grotesque? You have shown me the entire world even not needing me to walk around. You are very dear to me, Neteyam, and not let that statement leave your lips again for I will be mad at you— I love you, you may take my heart.”
All thoughts, all miseries, all remorses, whatever it is, ceased from his mortal frame, all but the ministers of loving feeling. Neteyam has been walking in his dreams for 5 years of longing her love in silence, charading in friendship love, yet not knowing the depth of his love is equal with hers. She is fond of him, as much as he is that she is truly willing to take the bullet.
“Forgive me, how will you forgive me for this ugly scar?” It comes out in a whimpering plea, Neteyam starts to trail his lips all over her face.
On the contrary, she lets out a sweet laugh, enjoying the kisses that rain down her lovely face. The sound itself makes the Na’vi breathe in relaxation. The moonshine, –that can not even steal the simple yet boisterous scene– has blended with the lights of the lady’s face; and she is there, his hope, his joy, his own dear lover.
“Mhm, maybe the sweetest fruit? And, umm, a kiss?” In jestily she puts her pointer finger on her chin, facing away from his body (slowly, she does not want to worsen the healing wounds) in a playful manner of thinking.
A gentle flick he gives on her forehead, pulling out more laughter from both of them. Pretty, she is breathtaking. As Neteyam lets his fingers wander around her cheek, his thumb meets the soft surface of her lips. “Only that?”
Laughter dies down, cheeks flushed in flitting blush as her bioluminescent dots glow brighter at its finest, she parts her lips, head moving slightly to let her teeth catch his thumb. The action itself brings another chuckle from Neteyam, upon seeing the wide smile on her gorgeous face.
“And a Neteyam for myself?”
Despite the tone that still brings the jest, she is sure with what her lips say. Whilst her darling withdraws his thumb from her bite, and pressing it into her lips, she ever so gently closes her eyes, kissing his thumb in a longing kiss.
“He is already yours.”
Swallowing the words, Neteyam seals it in a kiss. A pair of soft lips meeting her ripe ones, kissing away the last bits of fear. As Neteyam feels the softness her lips provide him, it slumps down his stiff shoulders. He kisses her in the way a man kisses his woman before they part in a war, he kisses her in the way a warrior kisses his bow in reverence. Neteyam kisses her like he kisses a remarkable prize Eywa can ever bless him.
Like a prayer, she slips away from his lips, “Then, I may be blessed in such abundance for having this Neteyam you said is already mine.”
Soft chuckle emits from his throat, their lips brushing each other in the warmth of their shared gentle laugh. The maiden rests her bosom upon him, arms embracing his neck in a sense of loving. The storm had passed, the rain had stopped hitting the surface of the ocean; in which she can sing her love in a murmur of dream. To turn her love for Neteyam into tons of praises, of services.
So on, the long night is down to her feet, for Neteyam to carve in his bones.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ [] well im not putting much actions on the movie or other’s reaction because i wrote from neteyam’s pov mostly, so it shows how the world become only about him and her; because indeed, all he can think about is her safety and hoe to save her.
where do you plan on uploading your fics now??? can we have the link for them once you do?? i do reaally enjoy them and i'd like to keep reading your works!!!!! 🤍
hey, dear! i’m still posting here, of course! just, a little bit hard to find because it still does not appearing on the tags? i am testing it after this, posting a new fic. just pray that it shows under the tag so you can keep up with my fics without having to follow me!
and, sweetest, thank you so much. it is a pleasure for me to be able to serve my works to your liking!