jake sully who murmurs out "just the tip" into the junction of your neck as his hips roll against your own, pressing sloppy kisses at your pulse point with the silent question of continuation. jake sully who's unable to hide his pleasure, lashes fluttering along his cheek bone and the tip of his tail curling as he sinks into you. just the tip, just the— fuck. jake sully who's fisting at the bioluminescent moss beneath his hips in order to ground himself, chest heaving with uncertainty to proceeding with his previous statement. jake sully who's head tilts up as he fights the buckling of his hips, to sheath himself fully inside. babbling hopeless pleads as your thighs squeeze around his hips, "c'mon baby.. please, please, please—"
→ summary: you and tarsem were both feeling the looming pressure to find a mate; but little did either of you know that the other had already chosen.
pairing: tarsem x omatikaya reader
warnings: literally just two oblivious idiots in love; kissing and mentions of mating
word count: 1k
authors note: new character unlocked !! this was so fun to write
you lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your pod. you had so many thoughts running through your mind that it kept you wide awake. the time for you to find a mate was looming and you wanted to run away and hide. your parents would not so subtly drop hints; your mother throwing in a few ’oh isn’t he handsome’s every time you walked past a man. at this point, you think their only requirement was that they were actually breathing. there were many fine men in your clan and a few had even asked for your hand; but your heart longed for only one.
content: face sitting , eating out , fem!reader & tsu’tey
his fingers dug into your waist, tongue working tirelessly at your swollen clit while you sat with a contorted yet satisfied face above him. your hips shamelessly bucked into his face, grinding your cunt on his face while tsu’tey lapped up every inch of you. his hot tongue flicking between your folds and occasionally slipping inside of your hot hole. your fingers found their wait to his braided hair, desperately bringing his face closer, yet it wasn’t even possible unless you intended on suffocating the large man beneath you. “so good, so so good.” you whined, mouth agape as your shoulders tensed from the bundle of nerves being toyed with in your mates mouth. tsu’tey focused on your clit, sucking on it while his tongue flicked at it, holding your hips in place when you attempted to pull away. the soon pleasureful encounter turned into an overwhelming attack on your cunt. “m’gonna cum, please, no more!” you moaned out, feeling your hole clench each time he ruthlessly groaned into your cunt. coming undone on his face, you covered your mouth to suppress what you could only assume would’ve been a bloodcurdling cry. tsu’tey lapped up your arousal, taking his time in cleaning the white liquid away from your inner thighs and his own lips. his hands rubbed soothing circles into your body, all over your stomach leading down to your thighs. “good girl, such a good, pretty girl.” he praised, giving your clit a small kiss as if apologizing for his brutal stimulation from earlier.
For a hunter, driving spears through fish bothered Ao’nung more than it should have. It was something about the piercing of skin, the quick flush of pink-stained waters that too callously left no trace. The action of it – cutting through the body – violating the sanctity of in and out.
Today, he made a promise to say the words explicitly. Your two feet dance in the reef’s low tide before submerging completely. No hesitation, just numbingly cold waters straight up to the thigh. The feeling of his hot hand tightly woven in yours made you feel that way – lending the power to jump in headfirst like a dare he gives, but is too scared to take. Ao’nung tightens his grip and nervously makes a call for his ilu.
“Let me guess." You puff out your chest like a boy from long ago once did. "‘If I want to live here, I have to ride’.”
His lips loosen at the jest because, frankly, his voice doesn’t sound like that - but more compelling is your cute laugh that bubbles through the ocean surface. He sucks his teeth, shakes his head like he regrets tugging you by the fingertips out of your marui pod a few moments after eclipse – he knows he doesn’t – and finally lets his eyes give you a warm once-over. “Eywa, you are aggravating.”
If it's a lie, that's for him to know. Though, if the devilish grin you wield like a weapon is any indication, then something tells him his walls never stood a chance. To that so-nourishing ground that willed water to move when it shifted, his armour was so breakable. You were made to seep through it.
“Try it,” he murmurs, shoving his spear into your palm. “Like I taught you.”
Shakily, you take the tool and bend forward into the water. Ao’nung’s arms quickly wind around your waist, keeping you steady, grounded. You make a sudden thrust of the weapon that impales into nothing and feel droplets of water smack emptily against your face.
“Fuck, that was bad." When the chuckle escapes his lips, Ao’nung winces. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but it did, and it always seemed to.
You narrow your eyes. Irritated, he can feel it. But the water licks where it stings, fish swim together in rhythmic circles, and his laugh is pretty.
“Watch it, fish boy. I taught you that word.”
He bites his lip. The water is no longer hot, and fish tickle at his feet. “Did I use it right?”
“Yes, teacher’s pet, you’re the perfect student,” you roll your eyes. Grumbling then, “apparently, only when it comes to bad things.”
Pinching at your hips, his hands spin your body around so that your chest heaves for his eyes to see. He places a chaste kiss on your collarbone. Looking up to meet your eye-line, he reasons, “you only teach me bad things.”
“Yeah? Well, they suit you.” A playful bite to the hook he threw first, but something about those words makes Ao’nung ache on the inside. Suddenly, he jolts and lets his hands rest at your back, your body falling until it teasingly hovers just a few inches above the water.
“Do they?” His lips turn all the way up. Eyes twinkling at the precariousness of your position and your pretty face of shock an unintended bonus. He plays the game – makes the empty threat of dropping you. “Think carefully.”
Seconds later, laughter explodes from both of you. Vibrating against the water as your fists come up to slam against his chest and squeals of ‘they don’t! they don’t!’ sloppily soothe Ao’nung’s anxiety. He pulls you up and your hands cup tenderly at his soft cheeks.
“Say something nice.” You whisper. Ao’nung feels dizzy from the warmth in your stare. His casts his eyes down, not wanting to be seen. Not knowing how to release the words that are stuck in his throat. The truth that scratches. The sickening vulnerability of insides clawing their way out. He is hiding, his forehead pinches, and you notice it.
“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. Then he brings his hand behind your neck, gently pushes until your head rests against his hard chest, and all you can hear is his heartbeat hammer, hammer, hammer. You trace the pretty ‘X’ of his sternum.
“Nothing. Just you.”
Perhaps for too long, the two of you sway together in the water. When the coolness of it sinks back to your ankles, Ao’nung’s spear is back in your hand, and there is a certain clarity in the way he keeps you cradled inside his arms.
It is in the pearls he keeps in his pockets for your collection. In the meatiest bites of fish that he leaves to the side for you to eat later. In the warmth of his body ghosting yours when you finally catch a fish - in the way he taught you - spear right through the inside.
It is his love, inextricably. The action of it. Inside everything.
i’m literally barking EEEEEEEE ao’nung is so just sooooo idek !! i feel like we don’t really get to see a lot of sides to him in the movie other than being a lil shit 90 percent of the time, but i genuinely feel like you capture him so well !! this shit was just too cute altogether diekskdjd ily !! <3
warnings: nsfw, 18+, sexually explicit content, minors dni, rough sex, dom tsu’tey, spitting, p in v, oral m receiving, oral f receiving, fingering, masturbation
plot: the way you thrive in the forest is by learning how to grow under someone else's shade. at least, that's what lo'ak always seemed to think. alternatively, lo'ak learns the art of balance.
word count: 2.5k
warnings: friends to lovers, pining, kissing, botany, aged up just for the lore of the story
The seed was dying.
It was hard to say what the problem was exactly other than he gave too much. Too much water. Too many nutrients. Even in the case that it wasn't drowning, or poisoned by excess, it was eaten by a mantis or parasitized by a fungus. The point being made was clear. Eywa was not choosing him.
Mo’at said the canopy was a mostly forgiving place. Although, when it came to this rite of passage, the bravest of warriors fell short. They lacked the precision. And if they had that, then they lacked the follow-through. You thought of it differently. There is only one rule in the forest. I’m doing it for you.
What they needed, was heart. It's why you knew Lo’ak would be okay.
“Wrong.” Mo’at tuts her tongue as she watches her grandson, once again, bring a small seed an early death.
“That’s constructive.” He mumbles with bite.
Though, there is a small laugh there, too. Lo’ak looks up to the tree that you lie perched on and begs for eye contact. With streaks of wet dirt covering his pretty face, you meet his smile and do him one better, laughing a laugh that dances in the air as it travels down to meet his ears.
It’s a sound that brings him warmth. Enough to continue. He sighs before taking a new seed between two of his fingers, gently pitting a hole in the ground, and setting the story of growth in place once more.
Mo’at hums disapprovingly.
“Wrong, again.”
“I haven’t even started yet!” He objects.
Again, your giggle drifts, carried down by a gust of wind. This time, Lo’ak narrows his eyes and sticks a finger out, ready to begin the rant he feels building in his chest about how none of this is fair, and the forest hates him, and worst of all, you’re laughing and it makes his heart clench – but Mo’at shuts her eyes tightly and shakes her head.
“The fooling around ends now.” She warns, meeting your eyeline. “Lo’ak, you are done for the day.”
That was about right.
The first day you and Lo’ak met, they hoped it would set him on the straight path. Apparently, there was one. Even on the mystique of a moon planet, with gravity on his side, he never seemed to find the right footing.
But that effort died on the same day it was born. The same day you knew you loved him. His spark. His courage. His inability to conform. His inability to do anything other than follow his heart. You had no intention of changing him. Instead, opting to commit all the good and so-called bad into a moving memory. A best friend, dream lover – your Lo’ak.
So, when he did something funny when he wasn’t supposed to, you laughed wholeheartedly. And when he learned he could make you laugh, he had a hard time doing much else.
“A little help would’ve been nice.” He grumbles as you jump down into the space next to him. It was different for you. The forest was like an old friend. These soils knew you – willed for you. Even he could see it.
You poke a finger at his cheek affectionately. “I need to see what you’re made of first.”
At that, Lo’ak scoffs. Whatever he was made of, it surely was not for the likes of this place.
“You need to set the intention.”
Lo’ak scrunches his brow in concentration, staring obtusely at the pile of soil sitting in his cupped hands. He shuts his eyes and the ground pulses. Set the intention.
“Pretend like... you’re having a secret conversation. Just you and the seed. Whatever you want it to do, say it in your head. Tell it exactly what you’re feeling.”
Lo’ak feels skeptical.
Nonetheless, he attempts to push the doubt aside, and casts a wish into the ether. He peaks an eye open to see you. With your lips pulled so cutely, and your eyes screwed shut in such tranquil contemplation, he thinks you might as well be a wood sprite.
You are a sign of goodness. You float in the air. You bring him good luck.
Like clockwork, a branch from a nearby tree snaps forward to smack him on the forehead, and Lo’ak yells out an aggravated moan. Unsurprisingly, you laugh. But this time, he can’t push the words down far enough.
“This is pointless!” He gripes. “I’m doing everything you’re telling me but clearly this place has it out for me.”
You pause for a moment. Lo’ak notices the pretty way your pupils widen and knows it’s not something he will ever forget.
“There’s one more thing we can try!” Quickly, you grab a broad, plume-shaped leaf from the detritus on the forest floor. He stares expectantly as you place the green plant tissue atop your head.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” You demand. “Go! Do it!”
Lo’ak fumbles with his hands as he, against all his better judgement, grabs a leaf just like yours and mirrors you. He thinks about his conversation with a seed. Tell it exactly what you’re feeling. What Lo’ak feels, is stupid.
“What is this supposed to do, exactly?” He asks pointedly.
“It lets the seed know you’re not a threat.” And Lo’ak nods.
That is, until he sees the way your bedrock resolve turns into a wildflower, boisterous laughter spilling from your lips like a too-full cup, so enticing he can’t help but to let his own flow out, too, until you’re both sitting waist deep in a ravine of laugh water.
“Are you seriously fucking with me right now?”
“I am!” You defend, still coming down from the high. Happy that you were both there. “When was the last time you just let go and had fun?”
It was a fair question. It had been a long time. He forgot how good it felt to be stupid on purpose.
“I am a warrior, Y/N.” He says softly.
There was a lot in between those lines. Your gaze turns to his calloused hands. The scars on his legs and chest. The fresh cut slowly healing on his lips. “That you are.”
He turns his head down to look at those hands, which suddenly feel very heavy.
“But you were my friend first.”
And just like that, he lightens.
In the dream, there is kissing. The shape of two warm ghosts trying to know each other. Feather-soft touches. He is in your arms like he belongs. He stays. Like a tree rooted in the ground. More than that, like the network of fungi that connects all things in this forest. He kisses you. Emphatically. Like he means to. Your fingers tangle in his braids. Beads clink against each other. Bodies warm. Bodies so warm, morning stings less.
Everything in the forest has a role.
Lo’ak comes to see that even the pesty, seed-eating mantises are a part of something larger. It is a hopeful revelation. But leaves in him something wanting. Where did he fit in all this? What was his role? When would it all click?
He listens attentively as you point from the streams, to the apex of the canopy, to the patches of life on the forest floor that he, too, wished to cultivate. All of them intentional. All of them important. All of them tugging at his most existential heart strings.
“What about me?” He mumbles. Almost exasperated, but more desperate.
Your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean, Lo’ak?”
“I mean, what’s my role? Besides being a screw-up.”
It doesn’t make sense why, but it’s a punch to the gut. Why didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he look at the lively, unafraid, unrelenting forest and see himself? It was him. You loved it because it was him.
Lo’ak feels like he must have said something wrong with the way your eyes nearly tear up. “Forget it.” He dismisses, shaking his head with furrowed brow. “It was stupid-,”
“Balance.”
Lo’ak stops in his tracks.
“You have a million purposes.” You start. “But for me, you’re balance.
“Whenever I’m laughing, or crying. There are a pair of eyes I want to look into. There’s a person I want to share all those moments with. Someone that brings me balance.
“Those eyes are yours, Lo’ak.”
There is no air here. He is sure of it.
“Your eyes.” You promise. “In all of my memories. In all my dreams. Making me feel okay. I need you to know that.”
Lo’ak learns immediately that the forest has a sound of its own – now buzzing wildly in his ears as he struggles to find the right words, like there are any, to let you know that he understands. But the sudden vulnerability is too much. You feel like disappearing.
“Sorry. I made it weird. I-I should go help Kiri in the healing tent.”
Your exit is quick and painful. Lo’ak feels like he needs to pick his explosive feelings out of surrounding tree bark.
That night, Lo’ak can’t fall asleep because his body is hot all over.
He replays your words again and again. Hanging onto each one of them in a different way. Feeling a feeling that, at this point in his life, feels like it’s been written into his DNA. The love for you – it was natural. Equilibrating.
He sticks his leg out of his hammock into the dead of night and lets the goosebumps rise up his calf, building to his thigh, mediating the heat behind his temples.
Balance.
Something clicks. Lo’ak laughs like a mountain banshee, which he's sure has a role in the forest, too.
In the forest, a seed planted by calloused hands sprouts.
You and Lo’ak are thirteen years old. There are no moments of silence – though not for lack of trying.
Neteyam is giving a lecture on focus. The word is funny when you sound it out in your mouth enough times. But there is nothing funny about the moment. You are wet. You are cold. You are sulking as Neteyam continues to makes his disappointment clear.
Lo’ak keeps staring.
What had begun as a forest excursion in the world of hunting rapidly turned to one of play. One where Lo’ak says something he shouldn’t and needs to get shoved into the ravine. One where he pulls you with him. One where the beading of water from his braids is more alluring than it should be.
The rule of the forest is. I’m doing it for you. The rule of your friendship with Lo’ak – I’m not throwing you under the bus.
The demeanor is much too tight-lipped for Neteyam’s liking. He leaves with a huff, shaking his head every so often as he treads under the trees that know all secrets.
Funny enough, there is a silence.
Lo’ak’s eyes are still fixed on the ground. When he finally looks up, he finds yours are already there. You have that look. Like you’re trying to be mad at him, but you can’t. Like you’re trying to be serious, but you’re not. He hates that look, but he loves how it always comes before a smile.
“Admit it.” He pokes an elbow into your rib. “It was kinda funny.”
“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”
But it’s hard not let the absurdity of the moment overwhelm you. Your wet top feels sticky against the skin and sludges as you walk. Lo’ak feels his cheeks hurt from smiling– it’s so unconvincing.
“Oh, I sleep really fucking good.”
Finally, there is real, boisterous laughter. Like every taut string just snaps. Then slowly recoils. Leaving sweet silence in which two kids grin stupidly, throats too spent to bother with the words.
Lo’ak revisits that silence, a lot. It helps him focus.
The seed is a gift.
It takes your careful consideration and becomes something. It takes all the love, and the grit. It takes the time. It takes the hard labour – physical, and otherwise. What the gift means, in Lo’ak’s eyes, is intuitive. I’m giving you me.
He can feel you avoiding him in the way his bones feel chewed through by mites.
But tonight, it doesn’t matter. He’s been building up to this. Longer than his conscious mind even realizes. Longer than the branches of a willow tree stretch themselves. He could almost hear the forest saying it to him. Tonight, is the night of giving. You would be so proud.
“Wake up.” It is a cold hand and whisper that tugs you out of your hammock.
“Lo’ak?” You mumble. “What are you doing?”
“C’mon. Not yet.”
There was something different about the way he was moving. Confident. In big strides. Big, pillowy leaves reach out to stroke your face as you trail behind him. The bioluminescence everywhere, but especially glowing on his cheeks. With each tree he passes, he touches a finger to its bark. Acknowledging. It feels like falling in love with the forest through his eyes.
Suddenly, your bodies come to a halt. Lo’ak presents himself before you with his hands awkwardly posed behind his back. He looks nervous, you think. But more than that, he looks happy.
The air is cool on his face and the grass is wet under his feet. Even the silence is pretty. He wants to store it all in a bottle. Your knit brow makes him beat you to it.
“Wait.” He speaks. “Before you chew me out.”
Then, his shaky hands lurch forward with the thing he had clasped tightly behind his back just moments before. Wrapped in a beautiful blue silk ribbon. A plant you recognize from its conception.
“Lo’ak.” It’s hard to say anything else. “D-do you know what this means?”
At that, his golden eyes melt. “Come on, Y/N. You know it’s you. You know it’s always been you.”
His fingers edge forward, slowly, tenderly, taking your hand into his now too-hot palm. The touch of the skin. Transfer of energy. It feels too much but it’s a long time coming. His face is hot, too. Coming closer.
“Can never be too sure.” You whisper. “Apparently, you’re impulsive.”
Lo’ak’s eyes twinkle that mischievous glint. “Huh, never heard that one before.”
His hands creep up to cup your face. Then he stares, unabashedly. The heat feels like it could bore through your skin. The truth in his eyes makes you wonder if he’s been looking at you like this your whole life. It’s a relief that the canopy is so high here. There’s nothing but those hands holding you to the ground.
That is, until there are lips.
In the forest, with the breath of the trees, Lo’ak kisses you for the first time with hunger and promise. He does so like he does everything, tenaciously, like it belongs to him. But there’s nothing wounding about it. His kiss breaks what is dormant. His kiss nourishes, abundantly. His kiss pauses to smile a stupid pretty smile until he kisses again.
“Stupid.” You murmur into him, teeth biting. So unserious.
“Okay." He admits. "That one’s familiar.”
The best part about the forest. The laugh is everywhere.
END.
from me: i know he loves the forest <33 but i needed some metaphor for those angsty outcast feelings. i will leave it up to u guys to decide if u imagine this as if they never left, or if this is in a world where they come back!
reblogs/likes/tags are so appreciated... i hope u enjoyed my silly little words!! 😇💗🪐
hi sweet darling my my myyy i adore your writing so very much and wanted to know if you are still taking requests from that one post you linked? if so i would love to see something with tsu’tey for the “i am in love with a moment we never had” + angst? something about him with some angst just scratches an itch in my brain idkkk lots of love btw mwah !<3
across the stars — tsu’tey
INCLUDES fem!reader, human!reader. angst. 1.1k words.
NOTE anon you are so sweet omg thank you so much! <3
jakesully hands tsu’tey a note one afternoon after the battle, a crumpled piece of folded paper with specks of dirt on the edges. it looks tiny and, tsu’tey admits, unimportant.
he refuses to take it.
the olo’eyktan sighs, pushing the scrap back in his direction. “come on, brother. it’s important.”
tsu’tey begs to differ, taking a step back and scowling at the chief. a small, immature part of him is still stingy about the turn of events; how he had no choice but to pass his title to jakesully when he was on the brink of death.
“it’s from y/n.”
tsu’tey stills. his ears fall back in his hair at the mention of your name, tail swishing in curiosity.
you were one of the researchers — a biologist, he remembers you saying — alongside grace who studied pandoran flora and fauna. before the war, you had wormed your way well into the clan with your bright smiles and tinkling laughter. despite being one of the sky people, no one was able to resist you.
you were magnetic.
tsu’tey prides himself in his great resolve, his firm judgment. he is as untrusting as one can be; calculative when needed and always skeptical.
though he cannot deny how even he was left defenseless to your charm. it pains him to admit it but he grew fond of your excited chatter, especially the way your little demon face would light up at the mere mention of new plants, among other things.
he snatches the paper in jakesully’s hands and leaves without a word.
the note has been tucked under the woven mat in his hut for days now. tsu’tey has convinced himself there are far more important things to focus on than your flimsy little gift, and as dawn breaks over the moon, he finds himself grappling for excuses he can tell himself to prolong the inevitable.
a frustrated scowl mars his face, jumping off his hammock and kneeling on the floor, lifting the carpet to reveal the folded scrap. it seems almost threatening as it sits there, staring back.
he chooses to get it done and over with.
he turns it over a few times, looking for something; anything, but all there is is smeared dirt. finally, with bated breath, he slips a finger in the crease and unfolds it.
the paper is filled with your neat handwriting, dark ink nearly glowing on the white background. his heart sinks a bit as he sees how little you wrote but he ignores the feeling.
my dearest, tsu’tey, it reads.
his hands shake and the paper crumples beneath his fingers.
you may be reading this while i am already off this moon, or you may be reading this with a scowl perfectly painted on your face with me in front of you. either way, i just hope you’re reading this.
i would first like to thank you for your warm welcome.
tsu’tey grunts at that, shifting on his haunches, something ugly bubbling in his chest, one he cannot name.
i know how difficult it must be to accept someone like me yet you did not push me away. (you did, but you are unsuccessful! i am just stubborn, and i’m glad i am.)
the countless moments i have spent with you are everything to me. i will hold them close to my heart forever.
from the deepest crevices of my heart, thank you. i appreciate all the things you’ve done for me. for showing me the flowers and telling me about them, letting me come with you on hunts, and for merely walking with me in the forest. i hope you enjoyed those moments as much as i did.
the sky people are going back on earth soon and i have decided to come with them. before i go, i will tell you a secret.
my heart has grown too fond of you. sometimes, i fear you can hear the way my heart beats a little faster when you’re near. you have enraptured me. you are the most beautiful creature i have ever laid my eyes upon.
but i —
the letter is cut off, scrawled over by strings of ink. it starts again below, and the words sends an arrow straight through his heart.
i am in love with a moment we never had. not entirely, i suppose, since i do not go over our moments the way you do. i do not experience them in a… friendly way, shall i say? the way you do. it does not translate the same way between us.
i have spent nights with you clouding my mind, the sound of your voice a hazy lullaby in my head. i have dreamt of holding you, of kissing you, of telling you i love you.
i see you, tsu’tey. even when i am no longer in this moon, remember that somewhere in this vast universe, someone out there sees you.
thank you for sharing a part of yourself with me.
yours, y/n.
the letter is nearly balled up in tsu’tey’s firm grip. it is miniscule compared to his hand, and it is a reminder of how small yours had looked in his when he guided you over rocks that one time he showed you around.
something sits heavy in his heart. guilt, he’s come to know. the sky people left just two days ago and jakesully had given him your letter a week before.
he falls back on the floor of his hut, the mat digging under his left thigh.
had he known of your feelings… had he conquered his fear and read your letter earlier…
because tsu’tey may be known for his great resolve but all it took was your blinding smile to spear through his walls. he was untrusting as one can be but the trust you have shown you had in him had him wavering.
he suppose it is just right that he was stripped of his title. one so mighty will not cower before a piece of paper, but he had, and he missed the one chance eywa has given him to let you know of his feelings that had grown and bloomed over the course of your moments spent together.
he has nothing of you to remember by except this letter and the guilt that has taken root over his chest. he knows it will stay right there as long as he lives.
If there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. Whether that be in the sense of categorizing and keeping tabs on his people, or the doting he does on those he holds dear in private; he is always watching, waiting, basking in the shadows to make sure he knows every detail. You think it partially to be his position as future Olo’eyktan that makes him that way. But you also know it to be just how he is in nature—even if he’d struggle to openly admit that.
A fatal flaw on his part, maybe. The way he is so devoted to the lives of those around him; how he is so willing to double stack his duties to take care of the needs of his people. Bearing more stress and burden than he should (or more inside knowledge than he has any right to know) because he is simply so keen on ensuring he is not out of the loop with anyone, ever.
He’s being attentive even now, at this very moment. If that is what you could call spying on Jake and Neytiri from his perch of raised tree roots, partially shielded by the overgrown flora in front of him. It is sweet and terribly endearing how he cares for her, loves her; his want to protect knows no limits.
Someone else might stir up a smidgen of jealousy at that, but not you. See, even if he had been betrothed to her, you’re conscious of what resides in his heart; what always has. You know that his feelings never crossed that one fine line, no matter how much he’d try to pretend that they did. How much he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of his clan to have strong leaders—willing leaders. It’s commendable.
Such an admirable act of a man of his caliber, one must admit.
And it isn’t that he does not trust Jake—because if asked he would have to be honest and begrudgingly attest that he has grown quite fond of the uniltìranyu—but he is just.. wary. Rightfully so. That is a well suited sentiment for these types of situations. Relationships with tawtute, no matter how docile and complaisant they may seem, should always be handled with a lingering sense of fragility. So you understand his urge to leer, his need to observe when he is alone with one of your people.
It doesn’t mean you don’t find it the slightest bit amusing, though. How he’ll stress and strain over maintaining glimpses. Hearing him scoff when you tease of his meddling is humorous. You enjoy getting to tug on his leg.
“You are lurking again,” you state, stepping up beside Tsu’tey’s still form on the root, peering through the clearing of brush right along with him.
And he must have been far more engrossed in his couple watching than you thought (it’s not like you were trying to sneak up on him after all, your steps were not even close to quiet) because he flinches the tiniest, minute bit at the sound of your voice. His head snaps to you and you turn your own to meet his gaze.
“I am not lurking,” he rebuts, lips dipping downward in a scowl. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes just by the tone of his voice, but he won’t. He’s aware that that gives you satisfaction.
Little does he know you get satisfaction from that fact alone.
“Ah, right. Then what would you choose to call this? Spying?” You tip your head, a seemingly innocent gesture but it is nothing of the sort. Playing Tsu’tey is quite effortless when the dice fall into your practiced hands so routinely. “Snooping?”
“That is—” Absurd? Foolish? Whatever word was going to punctuate the end of his sentence dies before it reaches the tip of his tongue. His mouth screws up for a moment, along with the ridges of his brows, and you can tell something about him that is so painfully easy to pick up on. “I do not snoop.”
“Sure you don’t.”
Your words tilt with a shrug of your shoulders, the leveling of your head. Swiveling back around to look through the brush once again, you have to bite your cheek to fight the smile threatening your lips as Tsu’tey still stays locked on you. It’s a pleasing feeling, knowing you have riled him up so much in less than a minute.
“I do not snoop. Nor do I spy.” He reiterates, says it with authority now. In the same stern voice he uses to talk to the children of the clan and warn them about venturing too far into the depths of the forest without parental supervision. But you are an excessive amount of familiar with him for it to work on you; for it to sway you in the slightest.
If anything it eggs you on. Maybe a small personality flaw; most definitely a little boorish of you. Nevertheless you enjoy it, you think you always will. Because you are the only one who gets to see Tsu'tey like this. Who gets to poke and preen and tease, without worrying if your head might end up on a pike afterwards. (Not that he could stomach ever doing such a thing without a monsoon of reasons, truly, because even behind his ostensibly permanent glower he is just a big hearted fool deep down).
“I see,” you hum, and his gaze is still boring holes into the side of your skull, “Then you’re just nosy.”
“I am nothing of the sort.” And there it is, the scoff that always comes when you begin to make sport of his tendencies trailing after his detest. You’ve finally got him—successfully sunk your teeth into his throat and dragged him right into your claw toothed trap.
“Great,” you denounce, then flick your gaze back to that of the agitated man beside you. “Then it will not matter to you to know that Jake and Neytiri snuck out of your sight five minutes ago.”
“What?” Head whirling, eyes shooting wide, he turns back instantly to his break in the brush to confirm your statement.
Your statement that was in fact laced in nothing but falsity and had the sole purpose of exposing him for just how intrusive he is; which worked like a charm, you must add. Jake and Neytiri are still there, of course. Still talking and collecting herbs like they were before. Still enjoying their innocent—albeit sickeningly flirtatious—time together.
Tsu’tey whips back around to look at you, this time squaring his shoulders to glare at you properly.
“Wiya!” He hisses, but it holds no threat. Just his annoyance, the baseline of frustration. (Probably out of embarrassment for being caught, if the sharp flick of his tail is any indication at all). “What is it that you need?”
You consider him, hold his gaze. There are one of two ways you could go about this and you’re trying to decide which route would be the most entertaining. It becomes clear with each tick of his jaw what option you’re going to settle on, so you begin to pick up the puzzle pieces and place them down methodically.
“Oh, nothing.” Shrugging as you lace your fingers behind your back, you count your breaths. “Was just seeing what you were up to.”
Tsu’tey, expectedly, does not waver still. “I am busy tending to things.”
“You mean spying?”
“No.”
“Hm.”
After your hum you let another pause take place. Another beat of silence between the two of you. There’s a faint rustling to your right and out of the corner of your eye you see Jake and Neytiri actually gathering their things to leave this time. You wonder if it’s because they heard the two of you or perhaps on their own whim. Regardless, you don’t miss the twitch of Tsu’tey’s ears as he picks up on it too. You’re almost certain his brows knit tighter together, if that is even possible.
“What do you need, yawne?” He repeats himself, presses once more.
Yet even on edge, his tongue strikes lovingly. How enthralling of him, how compelling. How can he expect you not to want to toy with him? When he is just so yielding?
You shake your head. “Nothing.”
Another pass. The noises of the forest fill in your lull.
“Well,” he huffs, straightening himself out. “If there is nothing you need then you should be going. Like I said, I am busy.”
And you’ve been plotting, scheming, for this perfect time to swing the hatchet down. Tsu’tey has set you up beautifully, honestly. It’s almost like he’s in on it himself. He should know better by now, you think.
“Right, you’re busy.” This time, your words drift off with a deep sigh. Shoulders rising up and dropping theatrically like they’re being controlled by a puppeteer's strings, you turn to leave the same way that you came. You mumble under your breath, but not low enough that the man in your presence cannot hear you as you take your first steps away, “Always so busy. Looking out for everyone. Leaving me be..”
Tsu’tey’s sharp intake of breath might be stifled, but you hear it without a single shred of strain. In less than a second wide strides are being made to close the short gap you’ve created between the two of you. And just as soon as they stop, the unreserved grip of a calloused hand is clutching onto the ridge of your hip bone, pivoting you back around to beset the (now slightly less annoyed) warrior before you.
“Leaving you be?” His voice is tainted with something endearing, something unfiltered. Concern flitters across his strong features and it’s riveting; telling.
You’ve got him. Right in the palm of your hand.
“Mhm.” Angling your chin with a nod you turn your eyes downward. Relaxing your shoulders into a defeated slump, posturing yourself to be despondent. “It’s fine, really. I know you are an important man. I should not expect your undivided attention.”
“My attention?” He quirks, and his hand is leaving your hip only to take place on your jaw. He tips your head up but you still keep your gaze averted. It is not time to give in yet. “You have all of my attention, always. Oeyä txe’lan, why would you believe that you do not?”
You bite your tongue. Attentive, heeding; earnest is his expression as he deciphers every twitch across your face. You’d think for a man that is so good at reading you he would be able to tell when you are presenting faux emotions. Yet it’s like his worriment outweighs his fluency of you.
Somehow that’s even more touching.
“Ma (Y/n),” he hearkens, veering into your line of sight until you’re forced to meet his gaze, now. The intensity of his focus has your stomach fluttering, your hands behind your back ringing together. Oh, how you love him. “Tell me, am I being neglectful of you? What is it I have failed to do?”
“I—” His thumb is rubbing against the plane of your jaw. The curve of his lips pushes them out in an adoring pout as he inspects every quiver and crease of your features.
This was supposed to be a fun little game, one you are used to playing and one you are always in control of. So why does it suddenly feel like Tsu’tey has wiped the gameboard clean and tossed out all the cards? How has he flipped this on you, by simply cracking open his chest and laying his bleeding heart atop the deck? How has he become the game master, with a simple cradle of his palm and the dripping of devoted professions off his tongue?
How is this fair at all?
“Oeyä tìyawn.” My love, my heart; he holds you with such firm care like you are the very muscle that pumps life into his body. Like you are the very essence of his soul, all in all. Like you are his lifeblood—and aren’t you, really? “Do you crave for my attention? Have I not awarded you enough?”
“No.” It’s instant, no hesitation in your deliverance and, somehow, this is not about teasing your lover anymore. Your lungs burn, your internal clock ticks like the time frame of minutes has been cut short. “No, it is not enough.”
Contrition trickles down Tsu’tey’s face like watercolor pathos coating concern by the brush of your velvet tongue. His grip on your jaw softens, his free hand slides across the hollow of your throat until his fingertips bracket the braid encasing your kuru. He steps close; impossibly closer than he was until the beads of his neck piece scrape delicately against your sternum, until his breath fights to contrast the already growing warmth of your blood rushed cheeks.
You swallow, but it is not enough to stomach the tension clawing up your ribcage. His forehead is just a mere breadth from yours, his nose twitching millimeters from your own. With his ears pressed back and his tail flicking lowly, he envelops every sense a Na’vi can use.
He debilitates you, wholly and unquestionably.
“Forgive me,” he presses, and his lips seal yours before you can respond. “Forgive me, paskalin,” he longs as he steals your breath once more, presses his thumb against your pulse point. “Ngaytxoa, Ma (Y/n). May you never want for my attention again. I will grant you anything to prove as such. What do you wish of me?”
“I wish…” It is tasking, trying to catch your breath. He is just so close and just so consuming and adhering. “I wish for you.”
“Me?” He ticks his head, drops a hand in order to slide it down to the base of your spine. “You have me, all of me. Do not be foolish and believe otherwise.”
You blink, regain yourself. Yes, you suppose he is right. You suppose you do have him—all of him—that his actions now prove to supplement that statement. So what is it you really want? What is it you crave of a man who has given you everything even if you bait that he does not? What is the desire that you harbor in your heart, that he has not already graced you with forthright, at the any shallow utterance you muster?
“The day,” you wager, “Spend the rest of this day with me.”
Tsu’tey’s lips cinch to the side for a moment—his duties listing off on the blackboard of his mind, you are sure—but a moment is all he tenses before his foundation gives. He nods, cleaves to your wish.
“Of course. What would you plan? A hunt? A harvest?”
A fang hooks the corner of your lip and you shake your head. So willing to heed to you but it is not quite right, not quite on script. He has mistaken your petition for something far more innocent than you thought he would; but you suppose you cannot fault the conservativeness of a warrior that holds such merit as he.
“You mistake me,” you correct, snaking your hands up until they reside over the ridges of his protruding collarbones. “I wish to spend the day with you. Alone. As my mate. Doing that of which only mates are permitted.”
At this, Tsu’tey’s ears flicker; his pupils expand against his will and you take that as your sign of agreement before he even murmurs as such. And his compliance does not run verbal—not fully—other than a gruff rumble of his chest as the hand on his spine drifts to drag against the back of your thigh and hoist you up. Instinctive is the way your legs find themselves winding around his cinched waist. The woven ridges of his cummerbund brush against the insides of your thighs, and it is not an unfamiliar feeling.
Funny, how as lips sear against your own, drift and smear along your jaw and down the curve of your throat until they find refuge on your pulsepoint at which his thumb now retreats, you feel far more innocent than tainted. Perhaps love does that to someone; hides guilt or shame and breeds only purity. Perhaps attention can surely prove to be a cure all, in certain sentiments.
Whatever it is, you embrace it fully and relish in it with all of your being.
And maybe it distracts you, just slightly, because your tongue grows dangerously loose as you give up your will. You really do prove to be your own betrayer, truly.
“Sau,” you sigh as you tip your head to the side to allow virtuous lips room to roam, “I should tempt you with plight more often.”
Kisses halt and hands tighten where they grip onto you. You realize your mistake just as soon as the last word rolls off your tongue, but you cannot swallow down things already spoken. Fingers still sifted into Tsu’tey’s braids, you peer down as he leans back enough to look up at you.
“How kawng of you,” he aims, but he grants you no tell of expression.
“And even so?” You ponder, hum as you scratch the base of his scalp. “Will you revoke my request from me? Will you be so cruel as to deny me this?”
“Do not be foolish,” he hearkens, and something twinkles in his eyes as he says it—something twitches at the tilt of his lips. “You will have your day with me, just as you wish.”
“How merciful of you.” And you cannot help the simper that plays at your mouth. Even after fumbling, giving up your original position, you have still seemingly gotten your way. How delightful, this has proven to be.
But Tsu’tey’s fingers delve into the meat of your thigh with a little more pressure. His kisses find their way back to the juncture between your throat and jaw with a little more fervent. His tail brushes against your hooked ankles and you are not foreign to this rhythm of flicks.
“Do not deem me merciful yet, yawne,” he apprises with a nip of your skin. “You wish for my attention? I will grant it. But remember—”
A deep chuckle rumbles against your skin and the heat of his laugh has your stomach boiling with fire-licked butterflies. Your heart skitters, your inhales hitch before they slip out of your throat, as his lips find their way to the shell of your feverish ear. You find yourself bated, waiting, on whatever is to come.
“You asked for all of my attention. So now, you must take it.”
And if there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. And that is what you are banking on as he carries you further into the forest.
Imagine a a one-sided love between Neteyam and reader + arranged bonding trope where Neteyam slowly falls in love while the reader falls out of love (she loves him but is not IN love with him anymore) ☺️💜
i was listening to begin again and the last time by tswift while writing this.
she scoffed in disgust, recoiling at all the inquisitive stares directed toward her. how dare they ask her of this? no, demand of it.
neteyam, called out for you as you barreled out of the tent. fear had never had you in a vice grip like this before. not once in your entirety of being brought up in this world, - not once have you ever doubted the great mother.
that was until now.
the tip of his fingers managed to catch on your shoulder blade. in return, you let out a hiss so venomous that it made the man before you feel as if a thanator tore his heart out.
"don't. don't you dare!" she heaves, tears cascading down her face.
"i did not ask for this, i'm sorry. but i see you, i do now-"
she rolls her eyes then, shoving at his chest. her fists pound onto it, broken sobs withering from her.
y/n had never felt so humiliated, so scorned.
she took a step back, eyes ablaze and betrayed. a look of resentment battling a gaze so harmonious. it prickled at her skin.
to be with a man she once loved? she'd rather be brutally murdered by the sky people.
"see me?" she spat, fury encompassing her heart and soul.
"you are incapable of doing such a mundane act, future olo'eyktan."
"but i-" neteyam spluttered.
"no. not after all this time!" she insisted, picking up her pace and walking away from all the curious eyes of the people.
he follows, nerves only accelerating as he moves leaves and branches away from his path.
"y/n-" he tries again as you reach a clearing, but you only jab a finger in his chest.
"i speak." she seethed, tail thumping in vexation at the moss beneath them.
"you do not, they do not-" she pointed back to where they resided.
"- get to choose this, make me do this! not when i loved you for so long, neteyam."
the way she utters his name sends dread to his veins. it was empty, void of any softness she used to speak to him with.
"you love me?" he gapes.
"see, that is what i mean! you do not see, not how i have." y/n takes a few steps further back then. not realizing how close she had gotten to him, a waft of his scent nearly made her take back the words she was about to convey.
he shakes his head, wanting to prove to her that he does.
"i worshipped you, i was completely and ruthlessly willing to be at your mercy if you ever so wished for it. i was at your beck and call, i was your ears. your confider, your rock." she scoffed at the memories that tantalize her then.
"you never put my name at the top of your list. you see me as a fried? i saw you as my entire world. so, no. i do not want a taste of what you have to offer me now. i do not want to be on the top of your mind because of the prosperity it will gift the clan. i cannot will myself to love you all over again." her hands shake as she shields herself away.
away from the broken look that was sending daggers into everything in her mind that treasured the rare beauty of neteyam sully.
but she cannot be his to appreciate.
"i will not begin again, just because you've come to your senses" she quipped through gritted teeth.
y/n stalks off then, deeper into the forest. she could no longer withstand hearing another word fall from his saccharine lips. not with his tone so tender and arms too inviting.
as your footsteps fade away, all neteyam is left with is a hollow shell of what he once was before all these revelations.
bitterly he muttered to himself, "you're right, i guess i was incapable. not now, not anymore."
𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
a/n: maybe i'll make this into a full thing? i am honestly not sure if this was a req or someone just saying their thoughts🤷🏻♀️ buT ARGH i didn't know to end this!!
“i worshipped you, i was completely and ruthlessly willing to be at your mercy if you ever so wished for it.” BECAUSE WHY DID THAT LINE MAKE ME CRY literally throwing up rn
tags. mdni, afab! omatikaya! reader, p in v, clit play, adult language, mating, praise kink, a smidge of mean! jake.
notes. the jake sully thirst be powerful asf. found this earlier and just had to do a little something for him 🤭🤭. ngl i felt so silly writing this but i hope y'all enjoy it </3
wc. 3.4k
"y'gonna be shy on me now?" jake hummed, voice hoarse as his chest rumbled with satisfaction.
hips pressing flush against the curve of your ass whilst lust drunken eyes rake over your complexion, filled with gratitude to be blessed with viewing such a beauty.
azure flesh glistening with sweat, cum and slick, tuscany orbs glossy with unshed tears as the mushroomy head of his cock kisses your cervix deliciously.
amidst dire attempts to acknowledge what brought a cause to the situation, regardless of any progression, the tug of jake's cock against gummy scarlet walls had you crumbling all the way back down to square one.
both minds webbed in sin, flavourful smacks produced from the little space left between you. "f– fuck"
the view alone left heavy balls tensing, his pace quickening as sweat trickled down his chest.
eyes screwed shut, jaw slacked and breath jagged, ears twitching against your temple as thighs quivered.
"look at me.. open those pretty eyes, syulang.."
open mouthed kisses scattered amongst your collarbone, lapping over bruised flesh with the tip of his tongue. a guttural groan spilling from his throat as your walls clamped around his girth, hips stuttering.
it would leave no surprise, to him, if the village was capable of hearing such sinful vocalisations.
from you, nonetheless, writhing enticingly beneath your mate. the mighty toruk makto.
veined palms ghosting over the mounds of your chest before resuming their rightful place on your hips, calloused fingertips pinning your weight beneath him.
slick dribbling from puffy folds had only added to the loud squelches consumed by the bioluminescent forest.
irritation bubbling in the pit of the male's stomach, hissing vaguely as you paid no attention to his request.
"s– shit.. c'mon, don't make me ask again" he muttered, dragging his swollen cock out as only the tip remained before pushing back into your sopping cunt.
effortlessly held against the walls of overstimulation as your clit throbbed, begging to be toyed with.
a creamy ring building up at the base of his cock, emitting a low groan as your arousal consumed him.
what a fucking tease, were you aware of the affects you had on him? without doubt consuming every notion, like how you differentiated in size. (easier to manhandle).
throat constricting as wet lashes bat open in surprise, hips bucking into the unexpected pinch of your clit.
his lips break out to form a coy grin as your breath hitches, relaxing into his teasing ministrations.
"there ya' go.. so, so good f'me" pace growing sloppy as praises spilled from his lips, tail unconsciously swatting along the moss beneath his feet.
heavy grunts accompany the tensing of his sack and twitching length, composure seeping out of open pores.
what sort of man would jake be if his main priority had been his pleasure before your very own, rolling the bundle of nerve delicately between skilful digits.
"please, ma jake.." you settle for a soft cry, chest heaving as tears drip past your waterline. it was all too much.
you were being fucked dumb, quite literally. choked out gasps rattling in the air, heat pooling in your tummy.
jake swiftly angles his hips higher, calculated pistons decreasing to no more than erratic jolts.
"m'gonna cum" he huffs, sweat building up within his hairline. "ya' gonna let me fill y'up, sweet thing?"
it was so vulgar, lips parted with a silent moan just as your cunt spasmed harshly around him. "..yeah?"
Not Ready to Say Goodbye, (please don't go). | Neteyam Sully.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : even though the war with the sky-people was over, a new one began to brew in your mind. the eclipse is coming, meaning you only have a few hours to prepare to say goodbye to your yawntu (beloved).
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam x omaticaya!reader / sully family x omaticaya!reader (platonic).
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : after seeing this in the movies, i wondered how the sully family went about their preparations for neteyams funeral. but i put my own twist to it! readers gender is not specified. i hope you love this gutwrenching angst xx thank you for tuning in to my first writing i posted here <33 feedback is much appreciated!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, grief, longing, reminiscing, mentions of death, implications of a funeral, reoccurring mentions of blood, neytiri crying, sad!comfort lo'ak, sully family in pain😭🫶🏻.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.8k words
You don't really know how you ended up in the Sully's mauri. All you can recall is how cold Neteyam's usually warm body felt. How his blood painted not only your hands - but Lo'aks too. It was coating the armbands he crafted all for you, the hands he had held countless of times.
Your eyes shut in anguish, letting the all-consuming rage encompass every inch of your entire being. It was devastating, your mind reliving what was his last moments. He shouldn't have left this world in so much pain. Not when all he did was protect and love the people around him so fiercely.
It was too sudden, you were scrambling to try seize every single memory, experience. Everything that was left of his essence. It pained you to now realise that you were doomed from day one. You should have never challenged him that you could catch a bigger fish. You should have never fallen for him.
Your mind was stumbling on what you shouldn't have done. But what about everything you'll never get to do again?
When everyone would fall asleep, even back home - their home away from the ocean. The rainforest. It was just you, Neteyam, and the stars. The time where you'd share your deepest thoughts, whispers and quiet laughter. Afterall, your cheeks always ached from smiling so much on those nights. Oh what you would do to relive that all over again.
To hop on your Ikrans and fly away to your own little sanctuary, an oasis away from curious eyes. Where you nurtured one another, grew with one another - learnt about your feelings for eachother.
You woke up yesterday thinking that there'd be many more ecplises to come. And on those nights, he would be there. Your protector, your warrior, your Neteyam.
But now all you can see is his wistful eyes as he finally voiced out what he had been telling you in secret since the day you all left to seek further refuge.
"I want to go home." You do recall that.
You recall your fingers tucking his hair behind his ears after he had said so. The beads you gifted him, the ones you braided into his hair only a few days ago - glinting. Your reassuring smile beaming, wavering, sinking. And his eyes held pure desperation, such strong will to live.
Why didn't you live, Neteyam?
The next time you laid your head against his chest. There was nothing, you could only hear your own heartbeat drumming in your ears from anxiety. The heart that used to beat for his family, for your love, for your future - now having no rhythm.
It was ironic, considering how one of things you two were complimented most on was the rhythm of your day to day lives. How even when you were apart from him. When his dad would whisk him away on hunting trips. Or you had to go look for medicinal leaves, your hearts were steady. Because you knew when you'd return, you would be there for eachother.
That was your rhythm, your momentum.
And it was now all gone because of a bullet wound.
"Y/n?" There Neytiri stood, a bowl of warm water cradled in her hands - along with a cloth. You couldn't bare to maintain eye contact, because through her... all you saw was him.
She set the bowl down, as she sat infront of you. Neytiri gazed down at you, frowning. Because the caregiver in such situations for you would usually be her son.
She had adored you from the moment you graced Pandora. Your mother was her dearest friend. After losing her to the sky people when she took a bullet for her. She had to witness your father lose his grips on sanity as you were left to grow up all alone. That was when she and Jake officially took you under their wings.
While your current state was more than understandable, it worried her greatly. For Neytiri, it felt like history was repeating itself.
For once, she did not know what to say. She knew she had to tread lightly, she would push away voicing her direct concerns for the time being.
Your conversations always flowed, it didn't matter if it was as simple of a question as "how was your day?" What mattered is that she continuously rooted for you. Even more so when she witnessed you and Neteyam acting a little too similar to how her and jake had at the beginning of everything. When she realised her feelings for Jake held much more weight than she would have ever thought. But no words could soothe the grief you have submerged yourself into. She lost her first born son, and you lost your soulmate for every lifetime.
Your eyes glossed over as the damp cloth wiped away the last of what you would have of Neteyam. His blood, removed from your skin - transferred to the cloth. And you don't know why such a simple act felt like an axe dragging achingly slow across your heart. But it did.
Maybe because it was the last ever thing of his that would touch your skin. It felt too raw, too open. Your mind wanted to beat itself up, because it wasn't his hand, or his touch. It was his blood. His blood that had caked your hands for however long. Your hands were clean, and your Neteyam was dead.
Neytiri noticing your crestfallen expression, instantaneously brought you into her arms. Into her shelter, into her warmth. And the axe just dug itself deeper. Rupturing your soul, and everything you've ever known. Neytiri looked up at the ceiling, trying her damn hardest to blink away the tears that crept up onto her. Your wails, your haunting cries would keep her awake for a long time. But she knew, if anyone would understand the hollowness she currently is immersed in - it would be you. Her horrowing cries followed yours.
You could taste your own tear's through your sobs, and they were bitter. And you were angry, so angry - at what the world had taken away from you. What you are now going to have to miss, and it cut through you. You both cried harder.
No matter where the members of the Metkayina clan was in that moment, even if they were underneath water. They would have heard it all.
Each sully entered the mauri, one after the other. Tears once again edged the surface and broke. You huddled together, desperately reaching out for eachother. None of you being able to withstand the the thought of knowing your Tsahik - Ronal, was preparing Neteyam for farewell.
After awhile, you were all too exhausted. Draining yourselves until there were no more tears physically able to escape your systems. Silence followed, then soon everyone started dispersing.
Until it was just you and Lo'ak.
His throat burned, and even the action of trying to speak seemed worlds away for him. But yet, he still croaked out, "I'm so sorry, Y/n."
Shaking your head as a sigh left you, none of this felt real to either one of you yet. "I'm sorry too, Lo'ak", you whispered, that's all you could manage right now. He heard you, he knew you're trying.
His hand reached to yours, squeezing it and holding on tightly. Almost to the point where it was painful, but you didn't even mind. You'd take anything over the numbness creeping up on you. And you two needed eachother right now, more than ever before.
Both of you sat there, holding on. You knew ecplise was coming. How could you bring yourself to say goodbye if you couldn't even move? Having to see him so lifeless once more? It felt so wrong. Only the other day, he was hugging you from behind. Did he do that yesterday? Did he do that again before he left you?
How could you say goodbye to a future you barely even began? You wanted to punch something, you wanted to curse the sky people for ever even entering Pandora's atmosphere. You'd do anything to bring him back.
Neytiri and Jake entered the mauri once again, instead this time Neytiri was holding a smaller bowl - now full of paint. They had already prepped themselves for later... how?
They sat themselves before you two, Jake leaning over to give you a kiss on the forehead. You truly appreciated it, you couldn't even begin to fathom how he must be feeling right now. The man had not been able to speak a proper word to you since he carried you onto Tsireya's ilu when trying to make you guys head back to the village. You were too out of it to travel back yourself.
He didn't know where to start, where to end. Suddenly Jake was reminded of the words Lo'ak had told him about the ways of how the water held itself in the eyes of Ewya.
Before he and Neytiri followed Ronal and Tonowari to the dead tulkun the other day. Neteyam had asked for his fathers guidance, on how to properly court you, to prepare himself in the near future to have you as his mate. All the words and advice he had spoken, passed on with Neteyam to the great mother. And he couldn't endure that at the moment, he was on the brink of losing himself even further.
Both of them painted your faces, you wished it would have taken a lifetime. Because it was dark out, already - and that meant Ecplise had arrived.
"We'll meet you outside." Neytiri spoke softly, and solemnly. The pain was so evident in just those few words. It made you want to shrivel up even more. Suddenly sticking yourself to the walls of the mauri and never leaving seemed alot nicer then what was awaiting you.
You looked to Lo'ak, and he stared back at you. His hand fell into yours again, but this time you were the one that squeezed. Truth be told, none of you were prepared. Let alone, ready. None of you would ever be, as you were all under the impression that there was more time. Life is cruel that way.
Before you knew it you were both standing up, making your way out into the night. Time had crept up on you once again. Taking a deep breath you looked out into the ocean, you wish you could bring him back to his true home. But it seems this will have to do. You knew a part of his heart was with the water surrounding you when he first dove into it.
It all feels surreal, but it was inevitable. Goodbyes can be agonising if the world demands it.
“she lost her first born son, and you lost your soulmate for every lifetime” ARE YOU KIDDING ME RNNN i’m abt to throw up i’m crying like a baby !! like ?? you’re wild for this one 😔💔
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : do you see that pun ?? isn't it so funny ?? ^^ hahahahaahahahahahha.. okay here u go whores have sum headcanons 🙏🏼‼️‼️ (i was gonna link the jake sully one but i think everyone and their mom has seen it). this filthy asf i did not hold back. my mind ran and fell out of my ass. edit / ok the bullet points were glitching out for wari but i'm hoping it is okay now!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : MDNI, nsfw, UHMM seggsy times with blue big ass aliens idrk what else to say ?!?!? choking, overstim, brief degrading, mention of somnophilia & oral (f! receiving).
✰ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐈 :
uHMMM have you seen his tail ?? you're gonna have a field day with that one
wari knew you were drawn to his tail, for a differing amount of reasons. one of them being that it made you feel really good
and he'd be so consumed by making you feel good, because you're his girl. your pleasure tops everything for him
like his tail is so thick in and the width of it is so girthy lord
"take it like the good girl you are." he'd say as he forces you beneath him and lets his tail gravitate up your leg to where you need him most
i just see his tail acting before he can even fully think of what he was about to do
whether it is in his possessive nature, or just watching out for you
he'd totally use the width and thickness of it to his advantage come on. probably would let it lay in between your plushy thighs and press it against your throbbing clit.
"ahh" he'd say, as he would spit in your mouth - making you swallow it as you grind down on his tail.
I'm not sure how sensitive the metkayinas tails would be considering how different they've adapted to their surroundings, but i'd like to think
if you were to tug on it, it'd still elicit a deep guttural grown from tonowari
he'd fist your hair and smash your lips against his, nibbling at your bottom lip
"yeah? is all of this mine?" he'd growl, hands groping your ass and squeezing it.
wari would whisper such filth to you as his lips hover right over yours, basking in your whines and moans that waver in differing octaves.
"what's wrong, sweetheart? can't take anymore? why? oh...-" he'd let out a low chuckle. "is that it? i don't care. keep going."
his tail would be like. undeniably smooth.. so imagine thigh riding but switch thigh with tail lol!
some of y'all gonna be like wtf!! but dont lie to me ik some of u guys are eating that concept up
like him gripping your hips and pulling you up and down, other hand trailing down to press his thumb on the pearl of your clit and gently just rubs
or when you've made him fucking angry he'd use his tail as some sort of fuck toy until your legs are too sore to keep going.
like he'd give you such a condescending glare, "what? you're spent? when did i tell you to stop?"
tonowari is a beefy man, and with all that strength lordddd you're all gonna be going at it for quite some time !!
like ik for a fact he'd make you use his tail to get off until you reach the point of pure exhaustion
he'd let out a booming laugh, making you comfortable as he just towers over you
"guess it's my turn now"
and his cock would just be so ready for your cunt
and he'd coo at you as you let out something akin to a scream and a cry as your poor lil hole is finally filled with himmm and his balls would just smack at your skin lorddd
there'd be instances where you'd go on midnight swims and his tail would just curve into your waist pushing you closer to his proximity.
he'd have a wolfish grin as your chest presses into this, hands palming at every inch of your skin.
and as things get more heated, more desperate. you'd begin to tug him back to shore, to head to your shared mauri.
but he'd insist with a shake of his head, grasping below your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.
his head would dip down then, hovering over your ear. his breath making the hairs on the back of your head stand.
"how about i just take you here?" like! ok yes pls-
i can just imagine his tail sometimes pushing the ends of your hair back so he could have access to your chest, kissing you everywhere.
like not to deter but tonowari is such a boobs guy like he'd fr suck on your nipples while bucking into you real deep.
mans has such a high sexdrive like, he's going to crave you constantly. especially if he didn't have a successful hunt, or people in the clan are way to up his ass that day.
either he'd fuck you into oblivion, or just sit back and let you use him however you wish.
his tail swishes ever so slightly at the mere thought of you, that's the affect you have on him.
he doesn't know if it's possible but the next thing on his kink list is to definitely somehow choke you with his tail as he fucks you.
you'll have more than enough time together alone, (especially on your night escapades) for him to really test those, so be ready
✰ 𝐓𝐒𝐔'𝐓𝐄𝐘 :
let me just say. he'd be gripping your throat as his lips are so precise with the way they kiss yours in that very moment
and you wouldn't acknowledge it at first as he leans in closer to you. not even realising his tail that trails up your leg
but then it would tug at your loin cloth. once to check how tightly it is on. two to check the waters. 3 to rip it right off of you.
and you'd gasp in shock as the cool air hits your already wet pussy
tilting his head, a coy smirk graced his lips as his forefinger ever so softly dragged through your folds
"ah, what have i done to already make you this wet. do tell."
your hips would jolt then, desperate for more friction, for him to fill you up
the smirk would drop, tsking at you as one of his large hands would push down on your lower tummy to keep you settled
you'd take a deep inhale of breath, both your eyes following the tail that once again trailed up your leg
this time it'd wrap itself around your breasts, squeezing. it was pure erotic, back arching and everything.
the smoothness and how sleek it was, the way it pressed down on your chest - had your eyes closing in pure utter ecstasy
"that's right, use it like it's my cock. there you go, baby. yes." he'd urge you when you are having sex
he'd be very watchful of your reactions, solely just wanting to please you and make you feel good
like can you imagine at a bonfire one night, tsu'tey had gone off to get your food
you're just happily waiting for him when suddenly another man from the clan approaches, trying to seduce you to follow him to the forest
you'd respectfully declined, knowing that of his true intentions behind his words - but he wasn't seeming to go without staking a claim on you
did he live under a rock? oh no tsu-tey
tsu'teys hands are preoccupied, anger making his posture stiffen ever so more as he quickened his pace over to you
"i am taken, i have a mate. please leave before he-"
he makes himself known from behind you, balacing the food on his hands as he uses his tail to smack the wrist of the mans hand that was trying to make its way to your face
"you heard her, leave. before i take out all your teeth and beat you to-"
"tsu'tey!" you'd hiss, arms wrapping around his waist.
he'd snap out of it, glowering at the pathetic excuse of a man as he scampered off.
your cheeks flush as you realised his tail now seemed to wrap itself right above your loin cloth - an action he'd do unintentionally when feeling possessive
after your meal,, let's just say he was still starving for some more
the way he'd restrict your hand by his tail, or how the swishing motion of it would tenderly linger on your legs when he'd devour your pussy
"shhh, don't want the rest of the hunting party to you hear you. unless you do?" he'd say as he had you against a tree and completely having his way with you
i can see his tail having a mind of its own while he's asleep sometimes,, like he'd be having quite a vivid dream of you
and suddenly his tail would just be pressed against you, in a tired haze you'd try to ignore the pressure
but with tsu'tey spooning you and now unintentionally rutting against you, his tail seems to be growing in sensitivity as it curls against you
the feeling of the fur at the end of it brushing your upper thighs is what would finally jolt you awake
i can just imagine his tail trailing down the dip in your spine as you ride him, or the best part
when you'd surprise him by tugging on it
it'd happen at those times where its your turn to take control during your nighttime charades,, yk y'all like to switch it up
just a lil tug is all it takes sometimes
he'd harshly bite down on his bottom lip, "y'n" he'd let out in a low growl that makes you clench and squeeze down on his cock even more
eyes rolling to the back of his head, jaw and thighs clenching in sheer pleasure as the feeling of it equates to that of him teetering over the age of bustin
he'd definitely use his tail to choke you out when you're about to cum
i just feel like tails can do so much more than depict the emotions he is feeling at that very moment
he'd honestly use it however way you wish for him too as long as you're fine with it and it makes you feel good
like him fucking you from behind as his hands grip at your ass and his tail wraps around your hair and tug on it...??? damnnn
𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my nsfw taglist. ♡
also i am sorry if this is bad </3 she was written at like 3am last night!
the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.
the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)
the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake.
the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!
the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs
masterlist
SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice.
It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick.
Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented.
Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you.
Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire.
He hates it. He hates you.
He thinks.
It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth.
But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him.
It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you.
Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone.
Like now, you linger.
It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them.
Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over.
Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin.
“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes.
Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger.
“We going or what?” he finally says.
You perk up.
“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.
Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly.
“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents.
You roll your lips and shift on your feet.
“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful.
Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours.
“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.”
Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible.
You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes.
“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up."
You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off.
“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh.
“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles.
“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”
Lo'ak sneers.
“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.
“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”
Lo'ak's spine stiffens.
“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.”
Kiri rolls her eyes hard.
There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you.
“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam.
He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand.
“Hi,” he says flatly.
“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet.
His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare.
“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face.
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat.
A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him.
His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows.
“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”
You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure.
“My birthday's coming up,” you start.
“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs.
It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest.
“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you.
“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone.
You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens.
“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”
Friend.
He scowls at the term.
“We're not friends,” he bites back.
If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face.
“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly.
“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp.
He leaves you in the clearing on your own.
You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice.
“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head.
His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply.
“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”
“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly.
“But, Dad!”
“Lo'ak.”
Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off.
“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle.
The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target.
Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot.
You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile.
“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.”
Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target.
His heart sinks.
“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.
He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two.
He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn.
“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs.
“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest.
You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path.
He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora.
“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel.
His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks.
“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!”
His chest rises and falls with a scoff.
“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood.
Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage.
“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly.
“You are my friend,” you protest quietly.
Lo’ak rolls his eyes.
“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you.
“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?”
Friends.
That stupid fucking word again.
Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path.
Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.
“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle.
As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother.
“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.”
“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised.
Lo’ak’s face scrunches.
“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”
“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns.
“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”
A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates.
“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.”
Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat.
“No thanks,” he says flatly.
You try to coax him.
“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”
“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up.
You offer up the plate again.
“Lo’ak–“
“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed.
He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground.
“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds.
“Shit, I didn’t–”
“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.”
“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering.
“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.”
Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–
“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”
“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.”
“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters.
“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.”
“Dad!”
“Go, Lo’ak.”
Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose.
“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air.
He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology.
When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye.
He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction.
“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief.
You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat.
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.
A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest.
Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about.
When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile.
“I wanted to–”
“I came to–”
Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy.
“You first,” you offer.
Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing.
“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm.
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.”
You shake your head quickly.
“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him.
He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you.
You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile.
You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn.
Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam.
“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation.
He shrugs.
“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.”
The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face.
“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?”
No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly.
It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night.
“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly.
“I dunno, green?” he offers.
“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly.
Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head.
“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.”
He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal.
“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages.
Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up.
“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.
You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet.
“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.”
Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion.
“What?” he asks.
You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him.
“Nothing.”
Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session.
And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you.
He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off.
And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade.
Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended.
“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips.
Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars.
“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.”
“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night.
And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has.
But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries.
The words are leaving him before he can stop them.
“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.”
The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.
“I’m not perfect,” you assure him.
“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.”
You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile.
“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.”
Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.
You continue.
“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.”
Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments.
“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.”
“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.”
“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
You nod, smiling at him.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”
Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.
Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night.
After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring.
“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village.
“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed.
Kiri shrugs.
“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.”
You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully.
“Yeah?” you wonder
So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower.
It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist.
Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat.
He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.
There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again.
But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw.
“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands.
You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff.
“Hey,” he replies hesitantly.
“Where you going?” you ask curiously.
His throat bobs as he gestures behind him.
“Hunting,” is all he says.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.
He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control.
Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard.
“No,” he says.
And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly.
“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?”
“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.”
“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–”
“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too.
You try again anyways.
“It’ll be good practice and–”
“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.”
Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek.
Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch.
“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”
The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face.
Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later.
You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.
Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore.
You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully.
“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”
There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates.
“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles.
“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.”
You frown.
Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud.
“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?”
“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent.
“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs.
Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.
His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further.
“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him.
He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut.
“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”
“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level.
“But you’re–”
“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.
Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle.
You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree.
You follow after him.
“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects.
He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.”
You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off.
He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels.
“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”
“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!”
You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you.
“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry.
“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!”
You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles.
“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper.
“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!”
The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you.
“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.”
Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat.
You dropped your journal.
Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands.
It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet.
He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been.
“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal.
It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open.
He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch.
“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued.
“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers.
“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?”
Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.
“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides.
A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers.
“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
Spider winces behind him.
“You serious?”
Lo’ak sighs.
“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…”
“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.”
Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him.
“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.”
“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.”
Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him.
He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.
“Did you at least apologize?”
Lo’ak squirms.
“Dude!”
“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation.
“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“
“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs.
“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.”
“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps.
“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?”
He blinks at the human.
“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.”
“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.
“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”
“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply.
“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.”
Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook.
“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly.
Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off.
It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.
At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths.
It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind.
I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis.
As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him.
He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you.
It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late.
After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.
As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver.
A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling.
Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar.
“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.
It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face.
When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them.
“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves.
A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it.
“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head.
A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him.
As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze.
“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.”
Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read.
“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand.
“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.”
His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him.
His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it.
He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping.
It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you.
You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—
Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain.
It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished.
Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind.
It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap.
It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.
As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh.
Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath.
Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know.
he is like the sun,
shines so bright,
but burns the closer you get.
Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting.
he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him.
His chest heaves as the words blur.
Fearless.
Fearless.
Fearless.
In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward.
He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye.
Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time.
likes green and blue.
likes yovo fruits.
The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest.
When he turns the page, his breath hitches.
In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes.
Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another.
The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star.
He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like.
Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease.
His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones.
Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river.
A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide.
Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you.
You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself.
He stands from the hammock and runs.
You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.
Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.
As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins.
You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape.
“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.”
You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him.
You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm.
“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay.
“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.”
The tears well on their own.
We’re not friends. We never were and we never will.
The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches.
“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”
“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.”
He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below.
“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.”
Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky.
“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.”
“I do, _________, I do!” he argues.
He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you.
You shake your head again.
“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.”
“Stop–”
“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”
“No, _________. Wait!”
You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness.
Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better.
She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence.
“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat.
Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task.
It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest.
“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his.
Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze.
“I hurt someone,” he says quietly.
Neytiri stiffens.
“What?”
“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently.
Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression.
“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.”
Lo’ak swallows.
“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?”
You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly.
“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.”
Lo’ak swallows.
“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.”
Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.
His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines.
“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines.
“Why should I help you with your mess?”
You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment.
He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd.
Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show.
Be brave.
He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space.
You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips.
“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him.
You remain jaded.
“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background.
“________,” Lo’ak tries again.
You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side.
“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder.
The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday.
She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you.
He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact.
He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet.
He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely.
It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right.
Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt.
They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart.
“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.”
Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve.
Be brave. Sometimes that is enough.
Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids.
“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.”
The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push.
“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees.
“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage.
“I’ll only be a second!”
“Wait, Kiri!”
Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path.
“Good luck, egghead!”
Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself.
You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams.
“Oh, you were–”
You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls.
“Lo’ak…”
“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes.
You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet.
“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him.
He scratches the back of his head.
“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer.
“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads.
You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly.
You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat.
The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.
His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream.
“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.”
“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.”
He swallows.
“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words.
“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.”
When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him.
He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes.
“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.”
You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek.
“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.”
You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot.
“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you.
“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?”
He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze.
“Did you…”
“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”
“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?”
“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening.
“Lo’ak, don’t–”
“How long?” he presses desperately.
Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push.
“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.”
Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines.
“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”
You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.
“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.”
He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out.
“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief.
“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.”
He lets out a shaky breath.
“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.”
Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head.
“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him.
“Please.”
His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours.
“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.”
Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope.
“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers.
You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss.
He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you.
To being loved by you.
BONUS
“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…”
Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones.
“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.”
Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by.
His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift.
“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.”
You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you.
A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself.
“Lo’ak, wow…”
“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.”
an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx
i found this fic like three days ago and only read a quarter way, and then i lost it and was devastated!!! i literally gasped when this popped up on my dash again and i was so excited to read it
i don't wanna annoy you with an entire essay op, but this fic honestly does deserve it and it's a crime at how little notes it has because it's FANTASTIC! the way you write is so gorgeous, you truly have a way with words, every sentence was so <333333 !!!
you definitely captured lo'ak's personality so well in this, and i LOVED all the character interactions - even that super small snippet of lo'ak and kiri picking berries - it was like a little peek into their lives. i also love the spider/lo'ak interactions!! you wrote them exactly how their dynamic is, especially how lo'ak loosens up around him a bit more, that's so real.
also reader is so sweet, she made me all warm and fuzzy inside, i honestly felt for her a lot throughout this. she's just such a genuine character. when lo'ak made her cry i teared up so bad, was 🤏 this close to actually shedding tears istg
at the point where lo'ak lost it after jake yelled at him and went off at reader, i genuinly had an "oh no this fic might not have a happy ending moment" and idk why but that made me love this fic more!! like the fact that i was sooo incredibly invested in it... like i haven't felt this way abt a fic in a long time!!
the plot progression was also super satisfying. i'm not a big fan of enemies to lovers, but this genuinely might have changed my mind about the trope - like it wasn't rushed or weird at any points, their emotions were real and the characters had proper turning points and reasons for shifts in their feelings and emotions.
i said i wouldn't rant, but i did 😭 you just inspire me so greatly op! this is one of those fics that made me sit for a lil and go "oh damn", so THANK YOU for your work!!!! you're a true blessing in this community <33 (big hugs for u!!)
this is neng (@loaksky) hehe, reblogging to respond off my fic rec acct <3
i woke up to this this morning right before work & almost cried when i read it (i’m a big ol baby), but i’m so touched that you enjoyed it enough to take time out of your day to write abt it ☹️
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : Hi, I was wondering if you could write a Neteyamxhuman!reader where the reader takes the bullet for Neteyam, so they transport her soul to her avatar and they become really emotional upon waking up and seeing her human body, dead and they all (sully family and metkayina clan) have a funeral for her human body. Neteyam comforts her and mourns with her??
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam x human!reader / (eventually) na'vi!reader. sully family x reader, ronal x reader (platonic).
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : thank you @karmascale for requesting this! this was a challenge to write and i hope i did your request justice! i did a few minor tweaks just to make the story flow better. this slightly deviates from the original plot in the movie! feedback is once again, much appreciated - i love hearing ur guys thoughts! this piece is my prized posession 😭😭😭 if there's any mistakes pls lmk! reader is gn!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, blood, funeral, angst, mourning/grief, eventual fluff, gsw, death, detailed descriptions of pain/slipping in and out of consciousness, seizure.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.6k
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @odessa-is-my-queen
closely helped me through writing this so here is something to listen to if you want to get even more immersed <3
You weren't supposed to be there. That's the only thought that had been drilled into his mind ever since your body had struggled to stay afloat after jumping off the ship.
The once crystal clear blue waters were now tainted with an angry scarlet colour. Neteyam did not know what the source of it was. His heart had sunken, missing a beat when your head had not popped out of the water to cheer with the rest of them.
"Wait, where's Y/n?" Neteyam, panted as he tried to catch his breath.
Prior to all this, he had expressed how you should have gone back to Awa'atlu. But your eyes had a fire that even he couldn't shoot down. His family by definition was yours as well. You just couldn't sit this one out, not this time.
Your struggled gasps answered his question, your head bobbing back underwater only to resurface seconds later.
"Nete, I think I've been shot." You groaned in pain, as you struggled to stay afloat.
"You are such a skxawng, Y/n!" Neteyam cried, immediately swimming over to your side as he helped hold your much smaller body up.
"Hey, that's not nice." You tried to retort jokingly, only to cough up blood right after you had finished your sentence.
You weren't supposed to be there. Your link machine was experiencing issues, Norm was fixing it. Tuk, and Kiri, had brought you out to the ocean as you waited. You've been begging to see baby Ilu's ever since the Metkayina clan allowed you, Norm, and Max to stay behind after Kiri's seizure. Now seemed like the perfect time to do so, but they couldn't have been more wrong about their decision.
When you three had seen Lo'ak rushing off to warn Payakan about the tracker. Your friends not trailing too far behind him, you all joined too. You believed Lo'aks words from before, you didn't know such brutal consequences would come from such actions.
It was you and Neteyam who fled to drop the tracker further away, only to witness in horror as your friends were trapped in a net, being lifted by Ikrans and dropped on the large ship.
Only months ago were you all held captive, but the stakes are larger than life now. You were horrified. Neteyam curated a plan, only on the ship to cut them out of their restraints. Then you'd all head back together. But Lo'ak wanted to save Spider, and a sky-person turned Na'vi was blocking your freedom back into the water.
You weren't supposed to be there. He thought he got you out there safely, how stupid of him to think that.
His amber eyes caught sight of your gunshot wound when he and Lo'ak pulled you on top of Tsireya's Ilu. His world was crumbling around him, and all he could do was apply pressure.
"It hurts!" You grunted, the pain like nothing you've ever experienced before.
"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, Y/n." Neteyam shushed you, trying to give you some comfort while calming his own worries.
His father's words began to repeat in his mind from the training lessons he used to teach his kids when they were far younger. This one focused on sky-people and the type of weapons they use. The damage it can cause.
"Son, a bullet wound is deadly - only if there is an exit wound."
How did a bullet even hit you? It should have been him. Now he felt like he was paying the price.
Neteyam cursed to himself, yaymak.
"We must bring Y/n back! They can help them there!" Lo'ak interjected, trying to get everyone's attention. He was worried for his friend who wasn't even in their Avatar body. The tensions were through the skies that gloomed down on you all.
Tsireya, clutching onto her dear friend for life - nodded hastily. Yipping at her Ilu, they made haste back to their village.
Neteyam previously thought his greatest loss was the time he missed out with you. But now there was a chance of truly losing all of you. He couldn't bare the weight that train of thought held over him.
When his parents had told them that they'd have to leave all they'd ever known. He knew you wouldn't follow in their footsteps. They didn't even have a foolproof plan. And it would be too dangerous for you, your avatar was not ready yet.
He wanted to stay, but his family needed him now - more than ever before. They wouldn't allow it anyway.
"I will wait for you, Nete." You had told him, speaking so softly. Your words were full of warmth, full of promise. You sounded so sure, and it reassured him so much. He was utterly devoted to every fiber of your being. You already encompassed his entire mind. Each decision he had been making lately that would benefit his future, always circled back to you.
If he closed his eyes he'd still remember every minor detail of that day. The day he had to say goodbye. It was gutwrenchingly beautiful.
You stood on a tree trunk, and he wanted to curse Ewya for having to make humans wear masks. Because as your tiny hands grasped his face, his fists clenched in sheer desperation to caress yours. But he couldn't, not with that damned mask in the way.
Instead he opted for tucking a stray braid behind your ear, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. His hands hovered over yours above his face, before grasping them. You'd never get over how they dwarfed yours, how it felt to bask in his warmth. It felt like a reminder from Ewya that you were destined to be together.
You could see the tears he was trying not to shed, and feel the way his hands were slightly shaking. His ears laid flat, tail hung low. And it felt like a punch in the gut, a harsh reminder of not knowing when he would come back here.
The fear of not knowing when you'd be in each other's presence again.
His gaze kept traveling between every feature of your face. The boy did not have any artistic ability in his bones, but he'd be utterly dumb to not remember every minute detail that he had fallen for.
This wasn't earth, there were no devices that could reach as far as they were hoping to go. No mailing system. They'd have to rely on their trust for one another this time.
With purpose, you held his chin. "I. Will. Wait. For. You." You had annunciated every word.
Determination flickered in his eyes, and his hands held onto your mask, the part that covered your cheeks. You blushed, he'd never done that before.
"I will wait for you, Y/n." He declared as his forehead met yours.
"Come on, bro!" Y/n suddenly said, wait what?
His shoulders were being shaken, and he was brought back into the harsh reality.
"Hop on!" Lo'ak tugged on his arm, as he and Spider waited for him. Neteyam swung himself onto his Ilu. They raced back to shore.
He briefly saw Ronal ushering a member of the Metkayina clan who was holding his Y/n, into a mauri.
He started to head towards them with Spider when he realised Lo'ak wasn't following. He quickly turned around and beckoned him over, only to witness him hopping back on his Ilu.
"What are you doing?" Neteyam hissed at him.
"I have to go back for Tuk and Kiri! They are still there, mum and dad as well." Lo'ak explained.
"I'm coming with you." Spider walked back over, Lo'ak wanted to argue about it - but knew they didn't have time.
He could see the conflict in his older brother's eyes.
"I got this brother. I know that doesn't feel reassuring. because I usually don't. But this is our family, I won't fuck this up." Lo'ak insisted, he didn't want to risk a slim chance of potentially losing anyone else.
"Lo'ak...-" Neteyam tried to change his younger brother's mind.
"Please, trust me. You're going to regret not being here if Y/n gets worse." Lo'ak contested, he knew he was right.
Neteyam shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Contemplating his choices, he knew what he had to do.
"Go, but be alert. This isn't a raid back home!" Neteyam said.
Lo'ak nodded in acknowledgment, turning his Ilu and heading back to the ship in the distance along with Spider.
When they were nothing but a speck in the distance, he quickly rushed over to the mauri he saw Y/n and Ronal enter.
He rushed in, his heart somersaulting at the sight before him. You were pale, too pale. Your chest barely rises up and comes back down. He could tell you were on the verge of losing consciousness.
"Please mother, let me ask for the humans!" Tsireya begged as she continued to try to stop the bleeding.
"Fine, go get them." Ronal allowed it, continuing to do her ritual.
Tsireya was about to get up, but Neteyam stopped her.
"I can do it." He mumbled.
He made sure his comms were on the channel that had a connection with both his parents, Norm, and Max.
"Norm, Max.-" his voice choked up.
"I don't know what you are doing right now, but Y/n is dying. I need you to come to the chief's house, now! I don't- I don't know what you need to bring but just what you can! Please!" Neteyam pleaded as he fell by your side, his fingers running through your hair.
Blood splatter was speckled on the inside of your mask, and you blinked slowly in response to his barely there touch. Gazing up at him, a pained smile graced your face.
"Neteyam, is that you?" You asked.
"It's me, I'm here," Neteyam replied, tearing up at your whimpers of pain.
"We're on our way! Eta is 3 minutes!" Norm's rushed voice sounded through his comms.
"Tell her we are here. I am here." Neytiri's voice sounded forced, holding in the emotions she was truly feeling at that present moment.
"Okay, okay. Mom is with you, she is rooting for you. You hear me, Y/n? We all are!" He hoped his words were giving you strength, he felt like anything he could potentially do wouldn't be enough. Neteyam could only pray to Eywa that his mother would be okay after what she had just heard.
Neytiri loves you like you were her own, to this day she cannot pinpoint why she held such prejudice towards Spider but not you. Maybe because his father killed her own and the fact he had destroyed her clan's sanctuary.
Your mother and father were fierce, in a sense they were seen as warriors through her eyes. Alongside Trudy, they had pioneered the revolution against Colonel Quaritch and his followers. Y/n's mother had worked side by side with Grace, while your father worked on the front lines.
Right before the battle, she had confided in Neytiri.
"I am with child. If anything ever happens to my family, please take care of her." Neytiri took this newfound information in and agreed, deep down only hoping for the best. They were some of Neytiri's and Jake's greatest allies.
But Y/n's father was killed taking a stand, and with too much sorrow in her heart. Y/n's mother carried you to full term. Only to pass away after being with you for the first three months of your life. Neytiri nurtured you alongside Neteyam. She too just like Neteyam, could only pray to Ewya that you'd be okay.
"I'm scared," you spoke so quietly that if he wasn't as close to you as he was. He wouldn't have heard you at all.
"It's okay to be scared, I've got you. You're going to be okay." Neteyam emphasised with you, trying to offer more alleviation to such a dire situation.
"We're here- fuck." Norm cursed, as Max unpacked a few things.
"Nete, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep." Drowsiness was tempting you, and the pain was beginning to fade into nothingness.
"No! You must stay awake!" Neteyam tapped on your mask, but your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
You started to seize.
Ronal and Tsireya continued to chant, as Norm turned her on her side.
"There's too much blood, Max!" Norm shouted.
It poured out like a languid waterfall, strangely just like some of the ones back in the forest. He felt the dread tugging at him, he was losing you.
He held your head to stop you from potentially hurting yourself even more when suddenly your body slumped. Your breaths come out in wheezes.
Neteyam could no longer hold back his tears, he had never felt so helpless and petrified. He wished the rest of his family was here, in a room full of people - he felt stranded.
Max clocking onto this, pitched out a thought. "I don't know if it will work, but I have an idea." He held a flashlight above Y/n's eyes as he spoke.
"What is it? We'll make it work." Neteyam insisted. He would do whatever it takes to be able to rid you of this agony.
Ronal eyed the boy, understanding his struggles. Then stared at the humans who were fumbling over Y/n's body, using foreign devices.
"You wish to transfer Y/n's soul to their avatar," Ronal replied as she listened to your heart. It was weak, but still persisting.
Max gaped at her, the Tshahik must have put two and two together.
"We cannot save Y/n from these injuries, they are fatal. That is the only way." Max further explained, not meeting Neteyam's eyes. He knew what he was suggesting was an ultimatum larger than life. But he could not see any other way, you were already advancing further in succumbing to your wounds.
"What you are asking of me is something that has only been done a few times, not once has it been performed in our clan. As the Tsahik I cannot guarantee this will be successful!" Ronal protested as she continued to tend to you however way possible.
Tsireya continued to plug Y/n's wounds, listening in, as Neteyam hesitantly let go of your hand. Moving to Ronal, he kneeled down before her.
Ronal noted one thing, the eyes she was looking into were drastically different from how she remembered them moments ago. Now it was untamed, yet persistent.
"I know my family has caused enough destruction. I know you never wanted us here in the first place. You believed we would not do our part, and I cannot fault you for thinking that way. We have learned your ways, adapted like my father did." He then motioned to you behind him.
"So will Y/n. In your eyes, sky people come from demon blood, but their parents fought on Toruk Makto's side. They made a difference, just like Y/n has started to do here. Y/n is an excellent fisher and healer. The children in this clan have warmed up to them. Because that's the effect they have on people! I swear, if you give them this second chance, they will be forever grateful. And if it doesn't go the way we wish for it to, I will not put the blame on you. The decision of whether or not she passes through the 'Eye of Eywa' only lies with our great mother." Neteyam held his chin up high, not bothering to wipe away the tears that began to stream down his face.
Ronal looked at Neteyam for a few more beats, before shifting to look at you.
"Prepare them for travel, we do not have much time before they get too weak for the transfer." Neteyam cried out in relief, thanking the great mother as he moved back over to you.
"Stay with me, just a little more Y/n," Neteyam begged, squeezing your hand encouragingly.
"I can't feel anything Neteyam, please I'm scared." You whispered to him, and he tried to put on a strong face. But he couldn't even imagine how scared you must be if he was already paralyzed with fear. All he could do was pet your head. and give you continuous kisses on your hair and forehead. Ewya, please be with us right now.
"Where are they?" Neteyam could hear his mother calling for them outside.
"In here!" He beckoned them over.
"Tsireya, get your father and gather whoever can come with us. We must leave to the Coves of the Ancestors, now." Ronal advised her child.
She quickly halted what she was doing and dashed outside of the mauri.
Neytiri's hand fell to her mouth at the sight of you, weeping as Jake whispered comforting words to her.
"Mother." Neteyam looked up at her, not knowing how to proceed from here.
"Ronal, may I bring her on my Ikran?" Neytiri in just a single moment changed face. Time was of the essence.
"Yes, you have not been where we are going. Follow along with us." Ronal commanded, gathering her things and getting ready to ride.
At this point you were slipping in and out of consciousness, but Tsireya had been able to temporarily stop the bleeding. Neytiri cradled you in her arms as she walked outside, calling for her Ikran.
The Sully family and Metkayina clan made their way to the Cove of the Ancestors. Ronal could not shake the feeling she had thought. That no matter what - they would end up holding a funeral there tonight. She dared not to voice such feelings.
Neytiri stayed leveled, flying closely side by side with Jake and Neteyam. She kept looking down at you through the short journey, checking on you. She wasn't the only one who was doing so though. Neteyam as well kept a close eye on you. Sometimes his Ikran would brush too closely to Neytiri's. She let it slide this time.
The last time Neteyam was here, you were in your Avatar body. You both had a deep love for sacred places to the Na'vi, and this one wasn't any different. Neither of you has heard of the place before, but it didn't squash the appreciation you both had for it. He recalls not just being in awe of his surroundings, but also of you. Your eyes held something remarkable, full of wonder. You'd given him one of your big grins, the one that only comes out in times like this. Your deep appreciation for monumental sites like this made him think of how your heart was just pure gold.
"You'd make a great Tsahik one day", is something he had cheekily said to you. In return you gave him a smack on the shoulder, scolding him. He harbored such great memories from that day, he loved it. He could only desire to relive that instead of all this.
The wind swooshed in her ears, but Neytiri faintly heard you say, "I like it here." She grinned down at you tearfully.
Truthfully, you don't know much about where you came from, to you - Pandora was and always will be your home. Nothing could compare to the beauty it beholds.
"Me too," Neytiri spoke wistfully.
You all were approaching the spirit tree, submerged in the ocean. It glowed like no other. The clan began to make a circle around it, linking their arms.
"Jake, we have their avatar!" Norm called from a rock not too far from the tree that they were safely able to land on. They had left before everyone else to get there ahead of time.
Jake flys down to them, retrieving your avatar.
Neytiri and Neteyam go to the same rock. They step off their Ikrans as Neytiri treats them like a feather. Your whimpers of discomfort do not go unnoticed.
Ronal and Tonawari approach them with a large leaf of sorts.
"You may place her in here," Tonowari told them.
You looked peaceful, too peaceful. You were placed in the leaf, as Ronal began to float you closer to the Spirit tree. The Sullys closely followed behind their Tsahik.
"Jake, attach their avatar to the spirit tree" Ronal ordered.
Jake nodded, placing a mask on your Avatar and activating it - an idea of Norms and Max as you would be underwater for an unknown amount of time. He connected your queue to the tree, the closest he could to the surface.
"We must put them to sleep for the ceremony to start. If you'd like to say anything to them, now is the time." Ronal gave you moments of privacy, swimming over to members of the Metkayina clan to further explain what was going on.
Neteyam couldn't remove his eyes from your Avatar that was shifted with the current of the ocean. Swaying whilst attached to the Spirit Tree, he'd never seen your Avatar look so lifeless.
Jake waved him over, "Neteyam, they are asking for you."
Tuk was crying, her head leaning against your own. You quietly spoke to one another, even while in agony - you managed to make the youngest Sully giggle.
Neteyam drew closer to you, even if you were facing away from him. Like clockwork, you felt his presence. Your head slightly turning to acknowledge him.
Tuk moved back, latching onto Lo'ak as she cried into his shoulder. The entire Sully family have given words of encouragement to Y/n, Jake especially - explaining the process and how it felt passing through "The Eye of Eywa". He could only pray you'd get that far. He was truly hoping this wouldn't be a repeat of Grace Augustine.
"This is not goodbye. When you wake up, I will be by your side the entire time. You are not alone. Oel ngati kameie." He stated, headstrong - like his father.
Neteyam wanted to wipe away your tears, he wanted to lean his head against yours without the obstruction of the mask. He realised that very soon, it could be possible. If you make it through this, that is.
"Neteyam I-I, Oel ngati kameie." You stuttered, voice cracking. That was all you can manage.
Ronal expectantly surveyed the Sullys, Neteyam nodded. It's time.
"We will now begin the consciousness transfer. Neteyam, connect them to the Spirit Tree. You may rest for the time being, Y/n." Ronal announced, everyone, witnessing their mighty Tsahik.
Your eyes fluttered shut, Neteyam looked at his family, before taking a deep breath and bringing their limp body to the Spirit tree.
His eyes widened as one of the leaves reached out, attaching itself to your back. Eywa, are you here? A comforting hand met his shoulder, his foundation. His family.
The Sullys linked their arms as Neytiri and Neteyam held onto you.
The Spirit Tree was alive, its light brightening a tenth fold. Flickering, as it seemed to react to the chanting of the clan. The Sullys could only cling onto each other more tightly as each leaf on the spirit tree lit up. It was fascinating to witness, they were just hoping it would work.
Before they knew it, the lights ceased. Ronal from above the surface halted everyone, before diving down to where you were. Tonowari, Tsireya, and Ao'nung trailed behind. They all looked to you expectantly, hoping for any sort of sign.
Gasping you awaken, struggling to catch your breath as you immediately check your surroundings. Neteyam almost choked on the water as your eyes opened, he tried to get your attention but you were too lost in your own world.
You were in the water, but how were you breathing? The mind-numbing pain was gone, and you definitely felt different. You were trying to remember and process whatever had just happened. Oh yes, the ceremony. It must have not worked, you're still wearing a mask.
By instinct your hands move to cover your face in shame, instead, you see that it's your avatar's hands. You tilt your head down, the legs, feet! It's all blue. Did it actually work?
Neteyam swan closer to your side, pointing upwards. Signing to you to swim up to the surface, you nodded. Detaching your queue, you made your way to the surface - the Sullys except Neytiri followed behind closely.
This time when your head pops out from the water, there is no bullet wound. You weren't bleeding out, you were truly Na'vi. You've miraculously been given a second chance at life.
You removed your mask as grateful tears streamed down your face. You gaped at Ronal and the Metkayina clan, "Thank you, thank you so much." You spoke to them all, signing "I see you".
When you reached Ronal, you brought her into a hug. The soon-to-be mother of a 3rd child was in shock, looking at Tonowari. The man could only grin, urging his mate to return the hug. And so, she did just that.
"Y/n!" Tuk screamed in delight as she swam over to you, you disconnected from Ronal. Mouthing "thank you again", she let a smile slip as she took in your words.
You hugged Tuk, looking at Neteyam over her shoulder. He was looking at you, differently. It was expected that he was always more attentive towards you. It felt all too similar to when he tried to remember every piece of you before parting ways. He was in disbelief.
Neytiri came up from behind Neteyam, a large leaf in her grasp as Jake helped console her.
Neteyam let Y/n lean their head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, kissing your cheek. They all realised what exactly, or who Neytiri was carrying.
Your human body.
You didn't want to look, it felt far too strange to do so. While your avatar still held features very similar to that of your human self, most of what resembled your parents felt futile. It just wasn't the same anymore, and it never would be again.
You felt grateful that you were already aware of how it felt to live amongst the Na'vi in an Avatar body. Navigating this body isn't rocket science, you've been in and out doing so these past few months.
Tsireya comes, with a handful of flowers and seashells. She delicately spreads them around in the leaf.
"In our village, we give back energy to the ocean, the sea will allow their past self to rest peacefully." Tsireya indicated to the ocean floor beneath you all that held a yellow glow.
Neytiri leans her head down, kissing your now-closed eyelids. She felt a sense of deja-vu creeping up on her. Her family follows her actions, all of them kissing your eyelids, their own unspoken version of goodbye. As Neytiri and Jake brought your human body down to the sea anemone that awaited for you, all you could think and wish for - was more time.
You didn't understand why the circumstances had to be like this. As you watched that version of yourself begin to disappear, it physically felt like a part of yourself went with it.
Y/n no longer felt naive to Pandora. They knew more than most about this beautiful luxury. Now that they'd been gifted with a body that was stronger, and more capable. They would stand with their chin held high and fight. Just like their parents had done.
Slowly everyone disperses, making their way back to Awa'atlu. Neteyam can see how drained you are, he silently beckons you to follow him. They make their way back to his Ikran, flying back home.
Everyone's asleep. You had tried to do so yourself, but you only got a good hour in before being awoken by the thoughts circling your mind. Poor Neteyam was exhausted, so it didn't take much for you to escape from his hold and make your way outside.
You let yourself sit on the shore, gazing up at the twinkling stars and endless skies. Squinting your eyes, you saw someone making their way back. Ronal.
Her cyan eyes widened seeing you, hopping off her Ilu she walked over.
"Can't sleep?" Ronal inquired at the obviously distraught child.
You shake your head, no.
Ronal sighed, "I understand, today has changed your life. It is good that you have such a strong support system."
All you could muster was a grin, "Thank you, Ronal. I know I've said that countless times today. But I don't know what convincing it took, but I will forever be in debt to you."
This time, it was Ronal who shook her head.
"I am your Tsahik, you have proven to not be useless here. But that Sully boy, he begged for me to do whatever it takes to save you. I'd like to believe Tonowari would have done the same for me if I was one of the good sky people. You are essential to Metkayina, you are one of us now."
She let her hand linger on your shoulder. Before you could get a response in, Ronal was already walking away back to her mauri.
You looked over your shoulder, she'd done the same.
Speaking it out didn't feel enough, therefore you signed it instead.
"Oel ngati kameie." She did the motion in return.
As she walked inside her mauri, someone else caught your attention.
Your Neteyam.
He darted over to you, a worrisome expression plastered on his face.
"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" He blurted out, lifting your arms to check if there were any wounds.
"I am, not physically though. Thank you for worrying about me, Nete. I am mourning what I've lost, what those demons have robbed away from me." You explained to him, your hand movements were erratic as you were still trying to come to terms with everything yourself.
Neteyam clenched his fists, before bringing you into his embrace. You leaned your head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. It dawns on you, you could've lost this.
Your grip tightens, truly taking him in as you bring your hands through his braids. You could've lost him.
He seemed to be coming to terms with the same realisation. You heard him sniffling as he breathed you in. You made him lean back, your thumbs following his tears as you gently brushed them away. He nuzzled his face into your hands, his body shaking as he tried to conceal the depth of his emotions.
Neteyam tried to speak, his mouth opening only to close again. You let him reign his thoughts as you continued to gently caress his defined cheekbones.
You gazed into his eyes, they were dark, lost. He seemed worlds away from you..
"I simply cannot live in a world that doesn't have you in it." Neteyam spoke through clenched teeth. Like uttering those words was a physical blow to his gut.
"Nete...-" You tried to offer words of comfort, only to be cut off.
You let him - because you understand him.
He exclaimed. "You are my home! You are my person! It should have been me, Ewya worked her miracles today. But seeing you now, compared to how you just were. I keep doubting if you are even real."
Neteyam could not meet your coaxing eyes, his hands were gripping your arms for dear life. Truth be told, when he had woken up and you weren't there? He had thought the ceremony was a sick joke he had curated to cope. His heart almost gave out when he went outside the mauri only to see you sitting in the same spot you always seemed to endeavor.
"And you are mine, I am here. I am real." You carefully removed his hands from your arms, placing one on your cheek and the other on your heart.
"The great mother has given me a second chance, all thanks to you. Do not beat yourself up for something that was out of your control. We've already lost so much time, I cannot afford to dwell on it any longer." Your words settled in his soul, making itself an oasis there. It was like a thwack to the back of his head, just like the ones you'd do when you scolded him.
You're really here. He could breathe.
You were right, it all has already happened. All you can do is move forward. That you can both do, together. As a pair, you were an unstoppable force.
His eyes that were so lost a few moments ago opened, with newfound sparks of hope. A new sense of purpose. Behind all that flickered rage, directed at the sky people. They would pay for what they've done to you if they crossed each other's paths in life again.
You beamed at him, he looks so radiant at this moment. He let you lean your head on his shoulder as he held your hands in his. He traced random patterns on yours as he looked down at them.
"Tanhi, I forget even now your hands are still smaller than mine." He smirked at you as you snarled at him.
"Shut up, skxawng!" You giggled and he could only grin in return, giving your hands a gentle kiss or two.
Between one another you talked about your favourite memories of when you were human through the rest of the eclipse. Neteyam chuckled at one he was specifically fond of as you continued to rant about it.
As his nose nuzzled into yours, your cheeks became a deeper blue hue at his actions. He couldn't be more grateful for the Great Mother and her ways. Neteyam decided to take this whole experience as the beginning of something else entirely.
Eywa has secured a lifetime with you. His father was right, his family is a fortress. He will no longer take that for granted.
Neteyam may not become the Olo'eyktan like his parents were preparing him for. But wherever either one of you went, the other always followed. He will protect that honour for as long you'll let him, and he hopes it lasts for this life and every other one that the world demands of him.
summary: jake sully x female!reader but no use of y/n, arranged marriage, sunshine!jake x grumpy!reader, kind of lmao. angst, jealousy, mentions of death, feelings of insecurities. fluff. <3 i think that is all, pls lmk if i missed anything
word count: 5,112
tìyawn (n) - love
comments: first fic in a few months, first avatar fic ever <3 i really loved writing this, so i hope you all love it too, okay mwah mwah bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
You had not wanted your night to end like this, angrily picking at your song chord as your mother whispered to the elders of her desire to have you wed, and to the Olo’eyktan none the less. Every stone, every achievement, you had earned felt as though it was taken from you. Ripped from your fingers just as you were starting to enjoy the fruits of your labors.
