Summary: It is said, that the brothers had learned to hunt side by side before they had even learned to speak. Together, they were an unstoppable force. A dangerous duo. And right now, their entire focus was on their most recent prey: You.
Warnings: explicit smut, clan swap au, non-con, kidnapping, mmf threesome, body modifications, sex slaves, spanking as punishment, sex toys, praise kink, possessiveness, abuse of power, power imbalance, teasing, sexual tension, frenum ladder piercing, tongue piercing, prinz albert piercing, pet play, dom/sub, forced tsaheylu, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight kuru play, biting
Although it is the same moon that you stand on, the sun feels much hotter here, where the earth is dry and the trees are charred down.
Time loses its edges when every day feels the same. The heat presses down on you from dawn until long after the sun has begun to sink, clinging to your skin, seeping into your bones. There are no canopies of leaves to hide beneath, no cool shadows to retreat into. You are made to sit in the open, the sun beating down on you until your head swims and your thoughts grow sluggish. And there is always a fire burning somewhere, radiating heat.
The ground burns through the soles of your feet. Ash clings to your skin, to your braids, to the inside of your mouth. Even breathing feels heavier here.
You watch the light crawl slowly across the scorched earth, measure time by the length of shadows that offer no relief.
You grow thirsty quickly, but water comes with a price.
Loâak, the younger brother of the two, would only give it to you if youâd drink it from his mouth. Each time, it felt filthy and intimate, the way he was forcing your cheeks together to pry your jaw open, before he poured the water from his mouth to yours. The humiliation that came with it was something you figured he found great pleasure in. The more you resisted, the more you fought him, the more he was enjoying himself.
Loâak drifted in and out of your days, loud, amused, always eager to parade you past others like a prize heâd won. He talked to you as if you were his entertainment, teased you, laughed when you refused to meet his eyes. He liked seeing your reactions. And he liked being seen.
The older one of the two, was an entirely different story.
While you burned under the sun from morning until dusk, Neteyam was rarely seen at all. It was when the eclipse neared, that he finally made an appearance. And when he did, the change was immediate.
Neteyam does not raise his voice the way Loâak does sometimes. He doesnât need to. A look from him is enough, or a shift of his hand, the smallest tilt of his head, and you move before you realize you have decided to. There is something frighteningly effortless about the way he commands space, the way obedience seems to settle into your bones even when you want to resist.
Itâs been three days, and youâve noticed that Neteyam had found a liking to your prayers, amusement mostly.
At first, you thought he might stop you when he caught you singing. Punish you. Maybe even mock you.
Instead, he watches, quiet and intent, those golden eyes following the movement of your lips as if you are speaking directly to him. There is something almost curious in his expression, something faintly amused, like he has found a habit he does not intend to break you of.
Sometimes, he pulls you down to sit in his lap, one arm heavy around your waist, anchoring you there while the fire crackles nearby. His presence is solid, inescapable, his breath warm against your ear as he rasps, "Sing for me, little birdy."
And you hate it.
You hate the way the words curl through you, the way your chest tightens, the way your voice feels smaller every time you open your mouth. You hate that your prayers have become something he asks for, when those songs are not for him.
But you sing anyway.
Because you have learned that when you refuse, Neteyam is not playful like his brother. His displeasure is cold and precise.
Today, not long after the eclipse has passed, you sit where Neteyam placed you, close and contained, your voice low as you sing the old songs he favors. Your words are steady, practiced now, even as your eyes glare sideways at him. He pays it no mind, as always.
His fingers move through your hair with idle familiarity, separating braids, smoothing loose strands, tugging just enough to remind you that he can make it hurt if you resist, but he can just as well make you feel good. If you behave. Youâre always within their reach. Like a pet kept at heel. The touch makes your skin crawl, and still you sing your prayers to Eywa while sitting in the lap of a man who has long since turned his back on her.
While you do, your eyes wander despite yourself.
Beside you, Loâak sits close to the fire, skinning an animal. His hands are slick with blood, movements efficient, almost careless. Every so often he wipes the back of his hand across his chin, leaving dark smears along his chin before tearing off a piece of meat from where it cooks over the flames and sticking it between his lips. He looks feral like this, comfortable in the mess, almost wholly unbothered by it.
Truthfully, the sight scares you.
When he catches you staring, his mouth curves immediately and he winks.
The glare you send him is sharp, and as always it delights him. Loâak leans closer, tilting his head, bloodied lips parted in a grin meant to provoke you. He hovers just near enough that you can smell smoke and iron, clearly intent on teasing you further, invading your space simply because he can.
His blood smeared lips almost touch yours, but you turn your head away at once, tucking your face closer to Neteyamâs chest, hiding from Loâakâs attention as best you can and your voice wavers for half a heartbeat.
Normally, that refusal would cost you.
But Neteyam only chuckles softly, the sound low and brief. His arm tightens around you just enough, like a quiet barrier placed between you and his brother.
"Thatâs enough," he says then.
Loâak scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he leans back, amused rather than angered. "Youâre spoiling her too much. I like when she shows me her fire," he mutters under his breath, still grinning at you, but Neteyam simply ignores him.
In a vain attempt to distract yourself from the brothers, your eyes keep wandering, pulled past the fire and the shapes of warriors moving through their village, out toward the open sky.
There is a vast shape that cuts through the air in the distance, dark and angular against the fading light. It flies too smooth and too loud to be anything of the great mothers creation. Your breath catches hard in your chest, spine going rigid and every muscle locking at once when you realize what it is.
Your song falters.
"Tawtutes," you whisper, the word slipping out thin and horrified. Humans.
Restlessness surges through you, sharp and panicked. Your hands twitch uselessly in your lap, instinct screaming at you to flee even when you know you canât. Your heart immediately pounds so hard in your chest that it hurts.
Beside the fire, Loâak chuckles.
He doesnât even look surprised. He just glances at you, clearly entertained by the way fear flashes so openly across your face.
Neteyamâs hand rises, calmly brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is almost gentle and reassuring, if you didnât know any better.
"I told you thereâs no reason to be afraid, txeptsyip [little flame]," he says quietly. "The humans arenât a threat here. They are working with us."
You stare at him, disbelief burning behind your eyes.
Working⌠with them?
The metal bird lowers itself toward the far edge of the village, engines roaring, kicking up ash and dust that roll across the ground. The Omatikaya barely react. No one runs and no one reaches for their weapons. They simply watch, waiting for the humans to come to them.
Then the doors slide open and figures begin to emerge. Small, pink-skinned humans wrapped in stiff coverings, moving nervously beneath the watchful eyes of the warriors. Behind them come towering metal frames with humans sitting inside behind a shield of glass, their frames all clanking and heavy, carrying crate after crate between them. Boxes stacked high, marked and sealed, unloaded with quick efficiency.
Neteyam shifts you then, guiding you firmly to sit closer to Loâak. The movement is not rough, but it is unmistakably possessive, placing you where he wants you before standing.
"Stay," he says, already turning away.
You watch him walk toward the tawtutes [humans], posture straight and confident, utterly unbothered by those demons. The humans meet him halfway, speaking too softly for you to hear. One of the metal frames lowers a crate at his feet, which Neteyam opens. Your eyes follow every movement as he peers inside, his expression unreadable. Whatever he sees earns a short nod of approval.
After that, the pace quickens. More boxes are hauled down from the metal bird. Omatikaya warriors drift closer, answering Neteyamâs gestures without question, lifting crates onto their shoulders and carrying them deeper into camp, towards the Oloâeyktan and tsahĂŹks tent. A few smaller ones are brought to the brothers tents as well.
Curiosity coils tight in your chest as you watch the exchange unfold.
What could possibly be inside them?
Weapons, you think at first. More metal, more poison. Your unease sharpens then when someone new steps forward.
He is human, unmistakably so, but not like the others. He isnât sealed away in bulky armor or hidden inside machines of metal. This one moves easily, confidently, as if he belongs here. His gear is stripped down: dark pants reinforced at the knees, heavy boots, fingerless gloves. His upper body is bare save for straps and tubing that loop around his neck and shoulder, feeding into a mask of glass that sits on his face.
His hair is kept short and messy, blond curls framing his face. A necklace made of metal hangs around his neck, it clicks together loudly when he walks. His skin is marked with red stripes, his eyes framed with dark coal.
Itâs uncanny. He is human, but he looks like one of the Ash people.
He approaches Neteyam like an equal.
They exchange a few words you canât hear, the human gesturing casually toward the crates. Neteyam listens, arms crossed, chin lifted as he nods along whatever the pink skin says.
Then the humanâs gaze drifts, and his eyes land on you and Loâak.
A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, sharp and knowing, the kind that makes your stomach sink. His eyes linger on the rope at your wrists, the way youâre positioned beside Loâak. There is amusement there, similar to the one you so often see in the brothers eyes.
Loâak notices the demons gaze immediately. He bares his teeth in a grin of his own, almost welcoming, as if he recognizes the human as an old friend. He calls for him then, a word that you donât recognize as anything of your mother tongue, but he mustâve understood it.
"Come, txeptsyip [little flame]," he says and Loâak is on his feet before you can react. His hand closes around your upper arm and he pulls you with him, already moving. "As much as I would love for my pretty little pet to stay, I have other businesses to attend to."
You almost stumble over your own feet to keep up, heart pounding, casting one last look over your shoulder as Neteyam continues speaking with the human, utterly unconcerned.
The walk is short.
Their tentâ your new home, as they call it, looms ahead, familiar now in a way that makes your skin prickle. Two warriors stand guard outside, long, deadly spears carved of wood and bone in their hands, their eyes flicking briefly to Loâak before returning to their watch.
He drags you inside and lets go only once youâre past the threshold. The sudden absence of his grip sends you off balance, and you drop down onto the furs with a soft, breathless sound. The air is warm, as it is always.
Loâak crouches in front of you and makes quick work of the ropes around your wrists. The fibers loosen, then fall away. Blood rushes back into your hands, pins and needles flaring painfully, but you barely have time to register it.
"Be good while Iâm away, yes? Iâll be back soon," he says lightly. Then leans in suddenly, fast and unannounced, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss is brief, but rough-edged, tasting of smoke and iron. You struggle against him, but Loâak has his hand on the back of your head, and his teeth catch your bottom lip before you can pull away, not hard enough to break skin, just enough to sting.
"Donât miss me too much while Iâm gone," he grins once he breaks the kiss, chuckling when you frantically clean your mouth with the back of your hand.
"Slu self muntxa, [fuck you/ become self-mated]" you mumble under your breath as you glare at him.
And then heâs gone.
The tent flap falls closed behind him, muting the sounds of the camp outside. Once again, youâre left alone.
Your wrists ache and your lip tingles, and you want to crawl out of your own skin when you think about what might await you now. Usually, when the brothers leave you in their tent to do, well, whatever it is that they do, they come back in the late hours of the night, eager to play with your body until you collapse from exhaustion.
Three days. It had taken them three days to learn your body and how to undo you.
Of course youâve thought about running away and breaking free from this prison.
The thought comes to you most often at night, when the camp grows quieter and the fire burns low, or when youâre alone, when the weight of everything presses hardest against your chest. You imagine slipping out into the dark, putting distance between you and this place, letting the forest swallow you whole.
But youâre not stupid, you know thereâs a risk.
It isnât failing that frightens you mostâ itâs succeeding just enough to make them hunt you. Being tracked through the forest like prey. You know how this clan hunts. Youâve seen it. Youâve heard it.
If they brought you back, and you have no illusions that they wouldnât, you know that the punishment would not go quick and easy.
Besides, even after three days of plotting and breaking your head over it, you still didnât know how you would even begin.
You had no weapons, nothing to cut rope quietly whenever they tied your hands or feet so you wouldnât run, nothing to defend yourself once you were outside. Two guards stand watch at all times in front of their tent, and when youâre not stuck here all on your own, the brothers have you on a tight leash, neither of them letting you out of their sight for even a second.
Of course there are things here that could be used, bones sharpened into tools, metal hooks, perhaps youâd even find knives in their kelku [home] if you only looked hard enough. You could hurt someone with them, sure.
But not two someones. At least not without the advantage of the surprise.
Whatever you could take from this place would only ever work once, and only if fate was kind enough to leave you alone with a single opponent.
Letting your gaze trace what has become painfully familiar, you suddenly notice one of the crates that the Tawtutes [humans] had carried, sitting half-hidden under a woven blanket, near the back wall. When you pull the fabric away, you see that a red X has been painted messily across the lid, the pigment uneven, as if done in a hurry.
Your throat tightens as your fingers begin to tingle, a sharp, electric itch running up your arms. You swallow thickly, heart beginning to pound as your eyes stay fixed on it.
Itâs made of metal. Whatever lays inside is most likely made of metal too, but youâre itching to open it. Partly because of curiosity, and partly because of the opportunity the boxes containment could be.
And yet still, you were raised to know better. Metal is forbidden. It is poison to the heart.
But⌠if inside this box were weaponsâŚ
Just one pull of a trigger, and even the strongest warrior falls just the same. With a tawtute [human] weapon, you wouldnât need to be faster, or strongerâ just willing enough to touch and use metal.
Your gaze flicks to the tent flap, to the faint shadows of the guards outside. Looking back at the box, your breath comes shallow.
If there are guns insideâ real ones, loaded, then this could be a chance. A slim one, fragile as glass, but real.
The great mother may forgive you, you think. If this is what it takes to leave this place, if this is what it takes to survive⌠she would forgive you.
With trembling hands, you lift the lid.
It opens with a soft, unfamiliar hiss, hinges creeping a little. Bracing yourself, you expect more cold metal, the unmistakable shape of a weapon. Instead, your met with⌠what in Eywas name is that?
The box is full. Just not of anything you could recognize.
Inside lie objects of various sizes and relatively similar shapes, packed carefully into molded compartments like ceremonial tools meant for a ritual you were never taught. Some are long and curved, others short and thick, all made from materials that feel smooth beneath your fingers. Some are firmer than others, bending slightly when you press them.
You frown.
One of them is a deep, unnatural red, glossy like fresh fruit but cold to the touch. Another is black and heavy, with a rounded end and a narrow handle, covered in strange ridges that make your fingertips prickle unpleasantly. You pick it up, turn it over, even shake it a little, but bothing happens.
There is no blade hiding and no trigger either.
There are smaller things too, rings made of stretchy material that snap back when you pull them, odd hollow shapes. One object has a cord attached to it, coiled neatly like a sleeping snake. There are things with buttons that make them wriggle in a unnatural way when you press them, reminding you of the movement of a Teylu larve. You recoil and drop it back into the box immediately.
Watching it wiggle around inside the box, you grimace, before reaching inside and pressing the button again. That turns it off.
With a sigh, you realize that none of these things are sharp. None of it looks remotely capable of killing anyone, unless perhaps by profound confusion. The only common thread is that every single thing feels intentionally shaped.
Heat creeps up your neck, equal parts embarrassment and disbelief. The box with all of its contents is entirely useless.
You let out a long, tired sigh.
It seems today wonât be the day you break out of here. Not with this, with whatever this is supposed to be. With nothing left to lose and nowhere to go, you let your hands drift back inside the crate, idly rummaging through the objects. You poke, squeeze, lift one and put it back. One is oddly heavy. Another looks far too much like something you were sure had to be coincidence, so you immediately shove it under three other things to hide it from your eyes.
Youâre so absorbed in your confusion that you donât hear the tent flaps move.
"Look what we have here, brother."
You shriek.
The sound tears out of you sharp and ungraceful as you whirl around, heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Neteyam stands just inside the tent, arms folded across his chest, eyes fixed not on you, but on the open box at your feet.
His expression is unreadable. He looks calm. Almost⌠pleased.
"Seems like someone was too impatient to wait for us," he continues evenly, gaze flicking from the box to your face, "and opened her surprise all on her own."
Heat floods your face instantly. You scramble back on instinct, hands lifting as if youâve been caught stealing.
Behind him, Loâak leans against the tent pole, clicking his tongue as he peers inside.
"What a shame," he says, grinning wide and delighted as he saunters over to you. "I wouldâve loved to be the one to show you what we bought from the humans."
Your stomach drops.
"Youâ" Your voice comes out thin. "I thoughtâ"
"Thought it was weapons?" Loâak supplies cheerfully, crouching to pluck one of the objects from the box and weigh it in his hand. "Yeah. We figured."
Neteyam then steps closer too, until his shadow falls over you and the box.
"Sweet girl. You looked so hopeful," he says with a smile, his head tilted. "That was almost my favorite part."
Your eyes are wide now, breath shallow, as Neteyam steps closer, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to keep him in view. The smile fades from his face as if it had never been there at all, replaced by what you assume is disappointment.
"But I donât appreciate this kind of behavior, txeptsyip, [little flame]."
Before you can do as much as blink, he grabs your arm and hauls you up in one sharp motion. You barely catch your footing before he turns you, forces your hands behind your back. Rope bites into your wrists again as he ties them quickly, far too practiced. Behind you, you hear his younger brother chuckle, the sound making goosebumps raise all over your skin.
"What would you have done," Neteyam asks, bending down so his voice is level with your ear, "if those were weapons, hm?"
"Iâ n-nothing!" The words tumble out of you, scared and desperate. "I swearâ"
"I donât believe that." He sighs, as though you have inconvenienced him. Then he pulls you forward, manhandles you so youâre bend over his knee where he sits on the furs.
The position makes it unmistakably clear how little control you have. You freeze, muscles locked and humiliation burning through you.
"You know," Neteyam says, voice almost conversational. One of his hands glides over the backside of your thighs, up, up up⌠"we wanted to surprise you with these gifts because youâve been such a good girl."
In the corner of your eyes, you see Loâak as he straightens nearby, watching with sharp interest. His tail flicks excitingly.
"But now," Neteyam continues, tightening his grip just enough to make you gasp, "I donât know if you still deserve them."
He pauses, letting the words sink in. You feel his hands still, thumbâs hooking under the cord of your loincloth as he drags it down your legs, despite the way you struggle against it. With your hands bound, you writhe, twist and turn in his grasp, but itâs no use.
"I think we need to teach you that touching things without permission is something that comes with consequences."
The silent promise that lays within his words makes your heart beat faster. Itâs impossible to crane your neck enough to see what heâs doing behind your back from this position, but you soon realize thereâs no need to.
A high-pitched yelp breaks free from your lips as a heavy hand descended onto your upturned ass, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over.
The first blow of his hand landing on your left cheek comes so sudden and unexpected, you suck in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spreads through you.
"PxasĂŹk! [Fuck]" You curse loudly. Immediately, anger surges through your entire being, humiliation at being disrespected like this makes your cheeks flare red and hot. "Youâ did not just do that! I'm not your palĂŹ! [Direhorse]"
"Kehe [no], you are certainly not," Neteyam chuckled lowly, curling your tail around his hand so it would stop whipping around. "A palĂŹ is obedient."
You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand. But his thighs kept you from moving.
"The good thing is," Loâakâs face comes into view then, crouching down in front of you to be level with your eyes, "these gifts arenât just for you. They are for us too. So when my brother is done putting some manners into you, youâll be happy to hear youâre still allowed to find out what they are."
The grin on his face was a mean one, even when his words were cheerfully spoken. Another blow of Neteyam hand had you choking on a whimper. Loâaks hand found your jaw then, his thumb brushing against your skin as if to soothe you.
Tracing the outline of your bottom lip, he used the moment his brother spanked your ass once more and your mouth fell open, pushing his thumb inside to press against the top of your tongue.
You heard the smack again, before you felt the hot prickling against your skin as one more landed, and by eywa it fucking hurt. Teeth closed around the digit Loâak had pressed between your lips, and your jaw clenched with every slap.
"Bite me, come on," he urges, his eyes full of lust, his bottom lip drawn between sharp teeth, "Show me your fire."
So you did. Your teeth clamp down hard on his thumb, a sharp, instinctive bite born of pain and fury. When he pulls back, he replaces his thumb with his tongue, forcing you into a hungry kiss.
Blow after blow makes you whimper into his mouth, and you might have tried counting them if there werenât so manyâ too many, and your ass was burning and you wanted to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and then maybe Neteyam would stop soon and you could just promise to be good. When Loâak broke the kiss, a thin string of salvia still connected your lips to his before it broke apart.
You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when Neteyams hand finally stopped, and instead softly caressed the red marks on your skin.
"Did you learn your lesson yet, txeptsyip? [little flame]" he asked.
"Y-Yes!" You chocked out, "Yes, Iâm sorry, I- I wonât do it again!"
Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out a moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable.
"Hmh, I think she gets it," Loâak hums, kissing your cheek, before he suddenly disappears from your field of view. "Câmon, leave her, bro. I want to play."
Fingers slide down along the crease between your cheeks then, vanishing between your glistening folds. You feel them tease your entrance, between your lips, up to your clit. Moaning, you subconsciously arched towards his touch, because everything was better than being spanked like a misbehaving animal. But then you cried out when the movement was answered with another slap.
"Seems like you are not the only one impatient here," Neteyam says, and you hear the pleased smile in his voice, as he leans down to whisper in your ear, "Shall we look at your gifts now?"
They give you no time to respond though, your bottom stings and you whine at the uncomfortable feeling once youâre pulled up by strong hands and made to sit on the furs. The sudden movement makes you gasp, the lingering sting at your bottom flaring as you shift, drawing a small, involuntary whine from your throat.
Swallowing curses, you notice that your hands are still bound. Your shoulders ache with the strain of holding yourself still, and despite it all, you still find yourself glaring at them.
Neteyam sits down beside you as if nothing had happened, entirely unbothered and seemingly unaffected by your punishment. As if unable to keep his hands to himself, one immediately drifts to your tail, not in comfort but in possession, fingers closing around it with idle certainty. He rolls the soft hairs at the end between his fingers, lifting it slightly.
You glare harder, jaw tight.
That infuriating, knowing curve of his mouth widens when he lets the tail slip through his fingers, the hairs brushing his nose. He huffs a quiet breath, amused, as if you were really nothing more than a restless animal testing its tether.
With a loud thud, Loâak then drops the heavy crate in front of you and you canât help but flinch. The sound echoes in the tent, rattling bones and chains alike. He crouches immediately and begins rummaging through the contents with obvious interest. Then he pulls something out and turns it over in his hands.
Itâs unnaturally pink, shorter than the rest of the objects youâve seen and slightly more rounded. Made of that same smooth, human-crafted material that doesnât feel like anything you know of. It has no use that you can understand and looks downright ridiculous.
Loâak glances at you, then at Neteyam, then back at the object, a grin tugging at his mouth.
He arches a brow at you. "So," he says lightly, "what do you think of your surprise?"
"I- I donât know⌠what these are," you force the words out, hating how hoarse your voice sounds.
"Oh, isnât that sweet." Loâak laughs outright now, turning the strange object over and pressing one of its buttons. It gives a faint hum. "This⌠is called a vibrator. It does, well, that."
The word is still foreign to you. Vibrator. You can only guess what it means when he saunters over to you and lightly drags the humming thing along your arm.
You flinch hard, jerking away as if it stung. The sensation isnât painful, just foreign. It buzzes against your skin like a trapped insect, sending a ridiculous shiver up your arm.
Letting it glide along your arm, Loâak chuckles. "Feel that?"
"Tickles," you mumble softly, wrists tugging against the restrains. "What is it?"
The younger brother glides the object over your arm and along your chest. You suck in a shaky breath when it reaches your breasts, and Loâak begins to circle your nipples with it. The touch is light and teasing, the vibrations enough to make your nipples form into hard pebbles.
"Itâs a toy," Neteyam whispers, his tail curling around your thigh as he speaks. When you frown, he adds, "A toy meant for adults."
A toy meant for adults? You want to ask him how that would work, but then Loâak letâs it wander lower, over your stomach, until heâs reached the soft swell of your mound. Instinctively, your thighs snap closed around his hand. Shaking his head in disapproval, Neteyam pries them right back open. He keeps his hands secured on the underside of your knees so you canât close them again, while Loâak moves the toy down until heâs reached the sensitive little nub that sits on top of your slit.
"Oh!" You exclaim in a gasp that comes out far louder than you intended.
When the vibrator begins circling your clit, itâs almost too much for comfort. The sensation is foreign and incredibly intense, and you suddenly feel this overwhelming heat under your skin at the contact. Pleasure surges up your spine, making your back arch, and a painful embarrassing whimper leaves your lips. Nothing has ever made you feel like this.
With your mouth open, you stare as the pink toy as Loâak glides it around your clit, chuckling when your knees jerk whenever he moves too close to the bundle of nerves.
"S-Stop," your voice comes out all breathy and soft, "I feel⌠feel weird."
"Hmm, I donât think you do," he grins, pressing the toy directly against your clit. "I think you feel good. Pretty good, actually."
The sensation cursing through your body is like a wild fire that you canât tame. No matter how much you try for it to not feel this way, itâs still so infuriating good. Amazing even. You feel yourself unable to describe how quickly the vibrations are pushing you towards the edge of your orgasm, so all you can do is moan and writhe and twitch in their grasp, as Loâak pushes the toy harder against your clit.
"I- Iâmâ Iâmâ" you gasp, unable to finish the sentence as you feel your legs begin to tense and shake.
All words are suddenly swallowed by Neteyams kiss as he presses his lips against yours and forces his tongue inside your mouth. He groans against you as you moan into his mouth, failing to keep these noises back. Your orgasm comes suddenly, violent and intense, so much so that your ears are ringing and you momentarily donât even hear yourself as you fall apart.
Your entire body is buzzing in similar way to the toy between your thighs, and you want to gasp and whine, but Neteyams kiss is never ending. Itâs not until youâre running out of breath that he finally detaches himself from you.
"That was quick," he chuckles, licking his lips. Blinking your eyes open, they still struggle to regain focus. You feel warm all over, and donât even recognize at first that the ropes around your wrists have been loosened enough for you to slip your hands out, until a four fingered hand frees them.
"Donât even think about doing anything stupid, txeptsyip, [little flame]," Loâak says, and itâs then that you realize that it was him. He kisses your wrists in way that is almost tender, before you snatch your hands away and he leans back on his feet to smile at you.
"Let us use something else, see how you like it." Neteyam suddenly adds, the hands on the underside of your knees instinctively tightening before you can snap your thighs closed.
"No!" You gasp, attempting to sit up, "I donât know if Iâ"
A hand against your chest pushes you right back.
"You can."
Your eyes move from Neteyams infuriating smile, to his younger brother, whoâs handing the vibrator to Neteyam before heâs back at rummaging through the contents of the box. The sight makes you shiver with the endless possibilities of what he might pull out of it next.
With the way his tail begins to sway and curl in excitement, it seems heâs found exactly what he was looking for. When he turns around, all color suddenly drains from your face.
"No," you whisper shaking your head. Then, more sternly, "No, no thatâs not gonna fit!"
You donât have to know anything about tawtute [human] things to know what the toy Loâak holds in his hand is supposed to be or where itâs supposed to go. Itâs obvious shape tells you enough.
Itâs pink, but not the same shade as the vibrator. Pink like the pink skins, slightly curved upwards and even in the hands of a naâviâ big. Loâak holds the flanged end in his palm and the sheer size of it makes your breath come out quicker.
Stepping closer, he tilts it slightly as if examining something foreign, clearly enjoying the way your eyes widen.
"Iâm impressed," he mutters. "The humans really outdid themselves with this one, huh?"
Before you can shift away, Neteyamâs arm slides around your waist. The movement is sudden but controlled as he lifts you just enough to reposition you, setting you down firmly on his lap. His grip is steady and unyielding, so you donât even try to wriggle free. Your bottom still feels tender from his punishment earlier, and youâre not quite ready for round two just yetâŚ
Still, your pulse jumps into your throat when Loâak lowers himself to kneel in front of you, the object still in his hand as he studies your reaction with open amusement. His pierced tongue swipes over his bottom lip, and you clench your jaw hard.
Neteyam on the other hand doesnât even glance at the toy.
Instead, he leans forward slightly, his head dipping toward your shoulder. His breath brushes your skin a moment before his lips graze the side of your neck. He hums thoughtfully.
"You still smell like the forest," he murmurs, voice low. "Sweet, though."
Your muscles tense immediately, every instinct screaming at you to pull away even though his arm tightens slightly around your middle, holding you in place.
Loâak notices, of course.
"Careful," he says to his brother with a grin. "Sheâs about to bolt again."
Neteyam exhales a quiet breath against your neck, unconcerned, "She can try."
Then he finally lifts his head, dark eyes settling on Loâak and the object in his hand.
"Well?" Neteyam asks, warm palms gliding over your thighs to spread them further.
Loâakâs grin widens slowly.
"Well," he says, glancing back at you, at the arousal youâre sure he can still see glistening on your lips. "I think our little spitfire can handle it. If she can handle us, she can certainly handle a toy. Right?"
No, you want to say. Instead, youâre shaking your head viciously from left to right as he lowers the toy enough so itâs tip slides between your folds. Itâs cold enough that your legs jerk, but it heats up quickly the more Loâak rubs it against you.
"This is⌠unnatural," you murmur, "I-Itâs wrong."
Behind you, Neteyam chuckles, "Would you prefer the real thing instead?"
Raising his hips to grind against your bottom, he makes you feel the hard length of him. Even through his loincloth, you could clearly feel the outline of his cock, every thick inch, every throbbing vein. Even his piercing, all eight of them, all of him just waiting to be sheathed inside you.
"You will like it, just wait," Loâak added, pressing a kiss to your ankle before propping your foot onto his shoulder. "And if not, Iâm sure we can find something else in there for youâŚ"
The smooth surface of the toy glides easily through your folds, slowly lubing itself with your arousal. It moves over your clit, wet and warm from body heat now and you canât help but let out a breathy whimper every time a surge of pleasure sizzles through your core. Soon, the toy is almost too slippery for Loâak to hold it steady, and each time he comes close to your entrance, he teases you with the round tip, not quite pushing in, but rather testing the limits of how far youâre able to stretch yet.
"Relax," Neteyam whispers, lips and teeth grazing your ear when it lays flat against your head. "Iâll help you loosen up, txeptsyip, [little flame]."
The hand under your knee moves to somewhere besides him, and then comes back into view holding something familiar and pink. The vibrator turns on with a low buzz, not as intense as before, but still enough to make a moan tumble from your parted lips. Youâre still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and the direct contact with the vibrator against your clit makes more arousal gush from between your thighs. You feel it leak from you, before Loâak catches it with the tip of the other toy and begins to push.
Truthfully, it slips in easier than you had thought it would. Youâre wet enough and itâs surface is so smooth that no real force is needed to work the first few inches inside of you with ease.
"Such a good girl," Neteyam purrs, "look how perfect youâre taking it."
Circling the vibrator around your little nub, your toes soon begin to curl as more and more of the toy slides inside. Loâak grins as he gives it a little twist, pushing in, then back out and in again, harder. He repeats the motion a few times, before he gives a single, hard thrust that hits so deep, you know without having to look down that he just shoved its entire length into you.
Your eyes roll back into your head and you fucking keenâ let out such a high pitched noise that you didnât think it was you at first. Your inner walls are clenching around the false cock as if it were a real one. The stretch it brings is nearing painful, but Loâak withdraws it just enough so your body can adjust, before heâs pushing back in again. Your toes curl with how good it feels, despite your concerns about the tawtute [human] thing. But deep down, you know itâs wrong. You know you shouldnât enjoy this, shouldnât find pleasure in something crafted by the very vrrteps [demons] that destroy the land and abuse the laws set by the great mother.
A particular deep thrust makes your back arch, and Neteyam uses that moment to press the vibrator down harder against your clit. You moan, loud and wanton, and both brothers groan in unison at that.
"I want to feel you, txeptsyip, [little flame]." Neteyam breaths. "Let me feel how good youâre feeling."
Your brows draw together when he lets his other hand slip away.
Neteyam reaches back over his shoulder, fingers finding the base of his braid. Slowly, he gathers the thick strands and brings them forward. At the end, where the braid narrows, those soft tendrils fan outward, greedily reaching for something.
Your breath catches.
This is not a casual gesture, not something you play with. What Neteyam implies to do is the most intimate connection the People knowâ one meant for lifelong mates, for those who choose one another beneath Eywaâs gaze. It is not something done lightly and⌠it is certainly not something done by force.
The faint hum of the human device still buzzes somewhere in Loâakâs hand, and you realize that Neteyam mustâve given it to him so he could use both of his hands to do this.
Your stomach twists as Neteyam lifts your own braid with careful fingers, bringing your kuru forward to rest beside his. The delicate tendrils twitch faintly in the air, reacting to one another instinctively.
"N-No!" You want to snatch it back, but Loâak thrusts the toy into you hard enough that your eyes momentarily flutter close. "No, please donâtâŚ" Your voice comes out weak, "you canât, the great mother willâ"
"Youâre mine. I can do whatever I want."
The combination of both toys playing with every sensitive nerve you possess while Neteyam connects the ends of your kurus is something words could not describe, not even if you tried. You feel so many things at once that itâs hard to focus on one at the time, until you realize youâre coming hard enough that your legs are shaking from the sheer force of it. Behind you, Neteyam groans deeply and you know, that heâs feeling it with you.
Your orgasm crashes over you so violently, you fear it might break you in half.
"Fuck," you hear Neteyam breath heavily, trying to catch up with your racing heart. You feel him underneath your skin, your veins, your heart and in your head, in all these places strictly reserved for the male to be your mate. Not him. "Who wouldâve thought that your pretty little head is filled with such filthy thoughts?"
You canât help it. Loâak is still thrusting the toy into you and Neteyam has gotten his hands back on the vibrator that he presses down hard against your oversensitive clit. Your mind is filled with images of them, the feel of their hands on you, their cocks filling your holes, every single one of them. You donât know wether its Neteyam forcing these thoughts or if that is all your own doing. Not that it mattered in this moment.
With your kurus still connected, Neteyam grabs the other toy from Loâaks hand and begins thrusting into you in a rhythm that felt almost too good to be true. You whine, high and desperate, head falling forward with sweat droplets that raced off your burning forehead, pupils blown with lust as he angled the toy upwards, hitting your sweet spot. It was the bond, you were sure of it. He could feel every bit of your pleasure, could tell exactly what felt best to you now that you shared mind, body and soul. And you should hate it, if it werenât getting you worked up so quickly again.
"I-Iâm gonnaâ" you choke on a moan when the toy thrust into hard and deep, "a-again!"
But before you know whatâs happening next, the vibrator is shoved into Neteyams hands as well.
"My turn," Loâak says and he detaches his brothers kuru from yours with a swift movement of his hand. Your eyes are wide open and you watch, unable to stop him, as Loâak connects the tendrils of your braids with those of his own.
In that moment, you come hard enough you think your heart might beat right out of your chest.
"Fuuck, baby," Loâak groans. "That good, huh?"
You can feel him, deep inside of you. You can feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you, driving you deeper into your orgasm. You can feel his tip hitting your cervix and at the same time his lips around your clit, his piercing rolling over it, until you realize those are just what he makes you feel through the bond. Itâs not real. What is real, however, is the way your legs are shaking, how you are holding your breath and then release it in a moan thatâs almost a scream. Everything between your thighs is so, so wet and slippery, your poor clit is overstimulated and feels raw.
Words are falling freely from your lips, but not all of them are coherent. Just a wild mix of please, please, please and coming, Iâm coming, and also stop, I canât, I canât come anymore!
When Neteyam finally, mercifully, lifts off the vibrator and withdraws the other toy from your sopping wet hole, you want to cry with relief. Youâve never, never in your life, have ever had an orgasm so intense before. So many of them, too. Your chest is still heaving, forcing deep breaths of air into your lungs as you try to get the trembling of your legs under control.
"Oh, sweet girl," a voice coos from somewhere behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder. "That was a lot, huh?"
You nod, because thatâs all you can manage.
"Youâre so fucking pretty like that, all wrung out and well-fucked," Loâak adds, grinning down at you like youâre a piece of fruit heâs about to devour and you wonder when this man is ever satisfied. Distantly you remember that his kuru is still intervined with yours. When you look up, he shares a knowing look with his brother that makes goosebumps raise on your skin, before he glances back down at you, grin sharp enough to cut steel.
Behind you, Neteyam rests his chin on the curve of your shoulder as he gently pulls you and his brothers braid apart. His breath is warm and his voice low as he says, "Letâs try another, shall we?"
Your breath stutters.
"A-Another?" The words come out as a whimper, soft and quiet. Your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he brings your kuru close to his mouth. A full on body shiver goes through you when he blows a soft breath of air over the wriggling pink tendrils.
"Itâs our gift, remember?" Neteyam chuckles. "And we still have plenty of toys for you to try, txeptsyip [little flame]."
Chapter 1 / Chapter 3
Honorable mentions of artworks that inspired this fic:
Brain slow as fuck right nyow Iâm on about 20 mineetoes of eep so take my random flutternutter
Imagine being a Mangkwan who lost her child and mate when your Hometree burned and became deeply loyal to Varang when she surmounted her place as TsahĂŹk and Oloâeykte of the clan
Your lowkey sorta batshit crazy and obsessed with having a mate and child and in comes Quaritch!
Varang essentially gifts you to him as both a gift for him and reward for you. He has proven to be a great provider for the clan and is very physically impressive and capable so who else better for her most loyal healer than this Sky man?
Except he already has a son and he thinks Spider being a human might cause some friction exceptâŚno it doesnât. Quite the opposite actually.
âMa Miles, you have already given me a son? Oh he is perfect-look at you. You already paint yourself and wear naâvi garb,he is wear Mangkwan pride perfectlyâ
Thatâs pretty much it. Spider having a maternal figure whoâs just so willing and potent with her love for her human stepson. I love that stupid goober heâs just a fella
I really want for all bigger black girls to find love. Love that cherishes them, holds them like the most treasured gift that they are and protects them on the daily. Love that doesnât just accept but absolutely celebrates every inch and facet of their mind and body. Love that they can actually receive and reciprocate. I want bigger black girls to know love like this.
hellooo id like to send a request for miles quaritch :)
what about a au where miles is given the choice by jake either to learn the ways of the navi or die. Itâs basically an alternate ending to the third movie.. so he follows jake and his family to the metkayina clan and meets a sea navi (us) and is absolutely love struck by her đ .. basically the reader will be the ones teaching miles, kind of like how neytiri and jake met! đ fluff or/and smut your choice hehe..
have a great day! đ
Hearts of the sea (Part 1/2)
let's pretend Quaritch never got that close with Varang and never wore the loincloth/paint for the sake of this fic okay?
Pairing: Recom!Miles Quaritch x Female!Metkayina Reader
Wordcount: 8.0k
Warnings/tags: Strangers to lovers, fluff, description of blood, alternative ending, AFAA SPOILER, injuries, violence, weapons, drowning, mentions of death/murder, flirting, smut in future parts, english is not my first language, not proof read!
[Part 1] â [Part 2]
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
Now that he sat here on his knees, wrists bound tightly behind his back and hundreds of disgusted snarls looking down at him, he questioned if he had made the right choice by promising Jake to learn the na'vi ways.
Tonowari did only little to hide his glare as his eyes raked over Quaritch with hatred and anger. His gaze then snapped to Jake, who stood behind Quaritch, aiming a rifle at the back of his neck "You bring this demon to us, to cause more suffering?" his voice was booming, hisses and growls sounding through the crowd.
Jake shook his head, lifting one hand to try and shush the clan to hear him out "No, but I believe people can change, remember? I believe people can adapt, they can learn. I know I did" he started, the other voices dying down "I saw him hesitate, I saw him worry about his son"
Jake placed a firm on hand on Spiders shoulder, pushing the boy forward, who looked at the ground as if the mention of Quaritch being his father, or what remained of him, deeply ashamed him. Quaritchs ears dropped at that.
"The old Miles Quaritch is dead, he has been for a long time" Miles' shoulders tensed up. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Jake was right. But who was he without the memories of the man whose name he carried?
The mouth of the gun pressed further into his neck "But the new Miles Quaritch hasn't been born yet. And he needs our help to see this world like we do. Like he should have seen it from the very start"
Jakes words sat heavy among the metkayina, lingering like pressure on your chest. He turned to Tonowari, his voice quieter now, smaller, to talk directly to him "Tonowari, my brother, I promise you, he will change. Either he starts to learn or he dies. That was the deal"
But Tonowari still didn't look convinced at all, frowning deeply at Jake and the demon he had brought. "We just need someone who will teach him" Jake said, his eyes boring into Tonowaris with an almost pleading intensity.
The olo'eyktan huffed through his nose before lowering his head. "So be it" he hissed, then turned to face his clan "Toruk makto has spoken! The sky demon will walk among us from this day forward. Teach him what he was too foolish to understand" he roared, the lack of kindness in his voice chilling.
"Much like Toruk makto and his family, he will be like a baby, even more so." Quaritch growled at being called a baby, it was bad enough that he was tied up and on his knees where everyone could see, he didn't need to get pissed off even more.
"Treat him as our brother. And time will tell if he was worth saving" Tonowari spoke his last works directly to Quaritch, spitting them into his face.
Jake hauled Quaritch up to his feet. Tonowari called out a name into the crowd, one that made Quaritchs ears perk up without reason.
As he was pushed along by Jake, the clan parted to clear a path, and to keep a safe distance to Quaritch. Only one person stayed put, a woman. As much as he despised these blue monkeys, they did have some pretty ladies here and there.
You didn't flinch as Miles was pushed into your space, your expression didn't change. You looked calm, collected. No fear.
Tonowaris hand came up to sign from his forehead down to you "I see you, ma'yawne" Quaritch snorted. My beloved, were you that guys missus or what? You looked a bit young for that, but he also couldn't blame him...what a fine face you had. Damn, he had to get it together.
You returned the motion "Would you please treat his wounds and show him his marui?" Tonowari questioned, his head held low as if he was ashamed to ask this of you.
You nodded, giving him a soft smile. "I will" you answered shortly, giving Jake, Lo'ak, Spider and Quaritch a look before turning around without another word, heading to your own marui and expecting the other men to follow.
Once you arrived at your pod, you collected a few things you needed to treat his injuries. Your movements were unhurried and light, as if he was just someone from the village who needed help. And maybe that's what Quaritch needed. Someone who didn't treat him with kidness, but also without malice or hatred. Just a neutral interaction between two people.
Though he certainly deserved to be treated like trash, he had to admit.
"Sit him down" you instructed simply and Quaritch was pushed onto a woven mat by Jake and Lo'ak. They held him firmly by the shoulders, not showing any signs that they were about to move.
You sized Jake up, staring at him. "Leave us" they were hesitant at first, not sure if this was a good idea. But Jake knew you, so he wouldn't argue about your choice. It was better that way.
You sighed softly as you were finally left alone with Quaritch, cutting the bindings that secured his wrists behind his back "Careful, sweetheart. I don't think you thought that through" he chuckled, rubbing his sore wrist with his good arm while he watched you sit down crosslegged in front of him.
"I don't think you realise I am the one with a knife" you mirrored his sass, earning yourself a defeated nod and a grin "TouchĂŠ" he chuckled, observing you while you cleaned your hands in a bowl.
You scooted closer to him, grasping his right arm with a firm hand and pulling it straight. He hissed at the movement, though he tried to hide it. A broken arrow was lodged all the way through his biceps. The wound looked gnarly, at the verge of getting infected. The bleeding had stopped, but you couldn't leave it in. Not a minute longer.
You put your hand under his upper arm to support it, your other hand gently digging into the wound to get a good grip on the feathers of the arrow. His face grimaced softly.
You looked at him "This is going to hurt. Breathe in" you instructed, waiting until his chest rose and he held it, a tense vein bulging from his neck.
You nodded, just to make sure "And out..." only when he started to breath out did you pull. You made a quick job with it, though his pained groan echoed, his lips turning into a harsh snarl that showed his fangs. You threw the wooden stick to the side, quickly smearing an antibiotic salve onto his...very strong and firm biceps, before wrapping his arm up tightly with palm leaves.
Just as fast as it came, your touch left him and he cranked open his eyes. His chest was heaving gently, brows laid in sweat from the pain. But you seemed relaxed, finished with him.
His gaze settled on his arm, snug in bindings "You done?" he asked as if he couldn't quite believe it.
You hummed in affirmation, his ears perking up, content. You came closer again after you had mixed together some clear white slurry that reminded Quaritch of aloe vera, though the texture was less slimy as it hit his skin.
You touched him softly, he almost couldn't feel your fingertips gliding along his face. While you did this, it was quiet between you, the only sound being the waves lapping ashore and families going to sleep a few maruis away from yours.
It was a bit awkward, to him at least. But you didn't seem to mind the silence at all. "So...that guy" he started, closing his eyes as you applied the gel to a cut over his eyes that was already starting to bruise.
"What guy?" you asked, brow furrowed with concentration. "Y'know, that guy. Your leader I assume?" he tried to explain to you, though it came off a bit disrespectful. Nothing knew with Quaritch. "Tonowari. He is olo'eyktan" you corrected him then, your fingers re-dipping into the bowl of jelly.
Quaritch rolled his eyes, so subtle you didn't catch it "Yeah, right. He called you my beloved" you recalled that Tonowari had indeed called you that, he often did. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but the way Quaritch spoke about it made you wonder if humans didn't use platonic names of endearment with each other. "Yes, and?"
Quaritch huffed at that "Well, that's a petname, ain't it? You're his missus or what?" he asked you with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Not even he knew where that came from, and why.
You pulled back your hands, staring at him a bit dumbfounded. You? The Tsahik of the metkayina? Tonowaris wife? That made you laugh and you shook your head no to his question "You called me sweetheart, even though I am not your sweet heart. Is that any different?"
Well, you had a point, a sense of relief washing over him. How weird.
The words you got me there were about to leave his mouth as he started to dismissively raise his hand, but a sharp pain shot up his right arm and he flinched. You quickly went to grab a piece of net, cutting it to the size you needed and wrapping it around his torso and arm like a sling, so he wouldn't move his arm too much while it healed.
"Your na'vi is good" you acknowledged, tying the knot over his shoulder "But it can be better. I will help you"
He was about to answer you when you stood up, your tail brushing his shoulder, almost on purpose, strutting past him. When you noticed he wasn't following you, you turned. He looked at you over his shoulder, confused. "Come" you said.
Quaritch didn't move, at least not fast enough for you. "Come" you repeated more enthusiastically, pulling him up by the good arm to drag him along. He stumbled behind you, the shells and beads in your hair chiming with every step ok the bouncy woven paths that connected the homes over the reef.
He had never looked long enough to appreciate the houses of the metkayina, there was no time when he ordered them to be burned down. But now as he watched you navigate through the pathways with his hand firmly in yours. Something in Quaritch itched to get his boots off and feel the woven material under his bare feet. He refused to let himself fall for that inner longing that felt too primal for him to approach.
It seemed like you had forgotten that his warm hand was wrapped around yours, too busy finding an empty marui for him to stay in.
You found one at the edge of the reef, not far from yours or Jakes. It was small, but enough for him to live in with the few belongings he had. "There. You stay here and rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you"
Quaritch chuckled, not moving an inch. When you realised the lack of movement from him was caused by your hand interlaced with his fingers, you quickly ripped your hand away, tail giving one irritated flick as you brushed past him. That was the most emotional he had seen you since his arrival. He found you to be very collected, calm. He wondered why.
He watched you set up his bed, if he could even call it that. It was a flimsy hammock he wasn't sure would support his weight without collapsing, but he had worse. He had to be thankful he was even getting something that resembled a bed and didn't have to sleep out in the mud with zero privacy. After all, he deserved every bit of harsh treatment.
"What makes you think I ain't gonna flee, huh? When everyone's asleep" he asked you then. You gave him a soft smile and pointed out the dark ocean to an illuminated pod "That is my marui. I am a light sleeper, I will hear you" you answered, stepping closer to him "You are surrounded by the sea and the people born there. If one of us won't catch you, my skimwing will" despite you being slightly shorter than him, your message was clear.
He lifted his left arm to salute you "Understood, ma'am"
The odd gesture made you tilt your head, your eyes squinting, your lips pulled into the slightest amused smile. He looked silly, but you didn't tell him that. "Sleep now. I will wake you up early" and with that, you vanished from his pod, a gentle salty breeze occupying the space where you once stood.
Quaritch sighed deeply as you left. He went to remove his tactical vest, which proved to be pretty difficult now that he couldn't move his right arm too much. Eventually, he got it off, forming a pile with his camo pants, which he had folded up neatly.
He kicked off his boots and socks, placed them near his clothes and sat down at the edge of the marui in only his tank top and boxers, his feet dangling just barely above the pitch black water.
He wasn't able to see that far across the ocean, the crashes of the waves being lit by the moon, just faintly.
And as he sat there, being able to freely breath the fresh and cool air without a pesky mask around his neck, his toes not being restricted by narrow leather boots and dipping into the water below, doubt crept up in his mind.
He didn't want to give up the humans ways and become feral like these savages he was fighting against. But with every day that passed, he wasn't sure if these thoughts were actually his. If any of this was actually his. On rare days, it felt like the memories surpressed something deep inside him- as if he were caged, longing for freedom.
Quaritch shook his head, swallowing down these dreading thoughts yet again. Instead he raked his gaze over to your pod. You stood right where he could see you between the woven walls, with your back turned to him.
Your arms suddenly lifted over your head and he knew, if you had faced him, he would have seen your breasts spill out from your top that you removed for sleep.
His head snapped to his lap so hard he was sure he just gave himself a mild whiplash. He was sure you wouldn't have minded much if he saw, your people walked around half naked the whole damn time. Though it wouldn't help his case if he watched you change like a creep, so he scooted back from the edge and stood up, removing his tank before trying to get comfortable in the hammock, as much as his bound arm allowed him to.
â
The next morning arrived sooner than Quaritch would have liked. Being from the military, he was used to getting up early with little sleep. He was trained to be wide awake by the first ring of his alarm.
But today, he just didn't want to leave his bed. He could have slept forever and would have been more than content with it. He didn't know if he was just exhausted from the events of the last few days, or if his body had finally found the way it should have had been resting all along- the na'vi way.
He remembered that you had said you would wake him early, but when you actually stood there in his marui at the crack of dawn- there hadn't been a time he would have rather asked for just five more minutes.
But at least your body blocked the sunlight from his face as you towered over him "It is time to get up" your voice was nice, but right now it grated through his dreamland and he grumbled, his brows furrowing, but his eyes remained unopened.
With a huff, you went over to untie the knot that held the hammock up on the wall by his feet, and he came crashing down in a second, his fall featherd by the bouncy ground underneath him.
You had to stifle a laugh with your hand as a string of curse words you had never heard left his mouth. Quaritch caught it, even as you quickly straightened up with a calm expression. "I could have just broken my other arm, Lady. And you call yourself a nurse" he protested as he sat up with a pained groan, the sling slipping from his shoulder.
"I do not call myself anything" you admitted innocently, crouching down to be eye-level with him. You tried to be sneaky and get a good look at his very well build torso. His biceps were thick and strong, you had seen and felt that yesterday. And you already searched for an excuse to touch him again.
His waist was slim and toned, beautifully so, nothing you had ever seen in your own clan. He must have noticed your eyes wandering, a soft smirk stretching across his lips "See something you like, sugar?"
That made you snap out of your shameless staring. You huffed a breath through your nose. Instead of answering, you laid something down in front of him that you had been carrying under your arm.
A strip of woven fabric, soft and sea-dyed, adorned with shells, beads and stones smoothed by the oceans current.
"This" you started "you will wear." Quaritch stared at the loincloth for a moment before he couldn't help but laugh, a sharp and disbelieving sound. "No way"
You tilted your head, squinting your eyes at him in confusion. It was almost cute how you didn't seem to understand where he was coming from at all, that he'd feel too bare and vulnerable and that it was...scary.
You blinked softly "It is a loincloth" you explained to him, as if knowing what it was would make him change his mind. "Yeah i know, and I'm not puttin' that on" he answered flatly, his ears pinned back in irritation. "I'll go in what I've got"
You looked him over, he was only in sime tight, black boxers. To you, they left little to the imagination, even more than the loincloths. You could clearly see the outline of his big-
You shook your head and stood up. Without another word, you stepped past him, reached down to where his clothes had been folded into a pile, and scooped up both the garments and his boots into your arms.
"Hey-!" his hand reached out as if he would have been able to stop you as you approached the edge of the marui, the same where he had been sitting yesterday, and tossed his clothes into the ocean.
Quaritch only heard a splash as his things hit the water and he surged to his feet. "Why the fuck did you do that!?" he raised his voice, squaring up behind you. You turned back to him, calm as ever, the salty breeze playing with your braided hair. The teal colour of your skin matched the light blue tint of the water perfectly. The picture you painted almost made him forget what he was mad about.
"They will dry" you said, your voice carrying a slight teasing edge "Eventually."
He stared at the water where his clothes floated, drifting lazily away from his pod.Then he looked at you. "...You serious?"
You pointed at the loincloth laying on the ground "Either this" you started, crossing your arms over your chest, the wave tattoo on your forearm showing "or nothing."
Quaritch scoffed at your words, his nose pulled into a soft snarl "Don't mess with me, lady" though he knew you were determined. And stubborn as hell.
You stepped closer to him, the faint smell of coconuts filling his nostrils as your hands reached up to secure the sling around his arm again, pushing the knot up where it was supposed to be resting on his shoulder. Your eyes flicked over his collar bone, fingers tracing his dark blue stripes that stretched over his pec, almost absentmindedly, until you said:
"I am fine with both."
Quaritch froze on the spot, but you removed your hand before you could feel his heart take a leap. You turned away before he could respond, making your way out of his marui with a slight more prominent sway of your hips than usual.
But his voice stopped you at the threshold "If I didn't know it any better, I would say you're flirting with me, sugar" he grinned, eyes roaming your backside.
You looked over your shoulder, your eyes fixated on his, barely dipping lower to his v-line and up again. Instead f answering his statement, you took a deep breath "Come find me when you are ready" and then you left.
â
Surprisingly, you didn't have to wait for him too long. You heard his bare footsteps approach over the rock where you sat and finished weaving a basket out of dried palm leaves. You didn't turn at first.
"Don't say a word" Quaritch muttered behind you. Slowly, you looked back. He stood there with stiff shoulders and a tightly locked jaw, but despite everything, wearing the loincloth, the sling for his arm abandoned. Not that he really had other options.
It fit him better than he wanted it to.
The fabric sat low on his hips, shells and pearls reflecting the early light of the sun and chiming against his skin. His tail flicked once, his cropped ears were pink at the tips and he looked utterly displeased.
You abandoned your work to stand up and observe him. He was already almost naked, but your gaze made him feel even more exposed. You walked around him slowly, nodding "Good."
His tails swatted your thigh "That's it?" he snapped at you with a raised eyebrow, his neck craning to see you "That's all I get after you threw my stuff into the ocean?"
Of course you could have said more. How nicely the loincloth sat on his hips, how strong his legs looked, how beautiful his abs curved with every movement, that the muscles in his back rippled under your assessing gaze- that you yearned to feel them shift under your hands. But why would you give him that satisfaction?
"Yes." you answered simply.
Quaritch exhaled sharply as you had completed walking in a circle around him until you stood in front of him again, looking annoyed down at you "Yeah, thanks a lot. 'ppreciate it" he deadpanned.
You stepped closer, your hand coming up to rest under his navel. For a moment his breath hitched and his thoughts slipped into the wrong direction, despite you just adjusting a knot on the cloth he had tied too loosely to withstand the pull of the water and its harsh currents.
You weren't touching him more than necessary, though you wish you could have, even just to mess with him a bit more.
"Now, come. Today we swim" you explained and walked over the jagged stone that had been smoothed out like a ramp into the water by the constant crashing of waves over the years.
You moved forward, your body welcomed by the sea and quickly submerged yourself fully. You resurfaced silently seconds later, gracefully, the water beading on your shoulders. He was still standing up top, waves lapping faintly at his toes, but he didn't move to follow you.
You cocked your head "Come. Or can you not swim?" You asked him only half serious, your voice carrying a teasing edge. Quaritch snorted "Of course I can swim" he just didn't feel like it. Not when fear was already gnawing at him by just looking into the ocean. He was able to see all the way down to the sand floor, which did only so little to calm him, but it was something.
With visible reluctance, he took a step on the slippery rocks, carefully wading deeper until he couldn't stand anymore. He swam alongside you for a moment before you dipped, disappearing and diving deep, the teal colour of your body shimmering against the faint rays of light that reached through the water.
Great. He floated on the surface, head kept steadily over the water. And he would have liked it if it stayed this way. You could dive with your little sea friends all you wanted, he'd be damned if he ever submerged himself fully underwater ever again.
A touch on his ankle startled him, your hand wrapped around his leg and softly pulling as if to encourage him to follow you.
He sighed. The water was shallow enough, clear, and no military ships in sight. So what could really go wrong? With another deep breath to prepare himself, he plunged under, your figure blurry but still perfectly recognisable.
The world had gone quieter as the water closed in over his head. He could hear the faint clicks of ocean creatures in the distance as water filled his ears, and the sounds his arms made when they sliced through the water. He kicked his feet a little awkwardly at first, his tail more than useless, while you swam circles around him with practiced ease, your paddle-like tail pushing you forward.
You formed an 'O' with your thumb and pointer finger, gesturing the question to Quaritch. He nodded, returning the motion to you to let you know he was alright. For now at least.
You found his way of swimming odd. He spread his legs like a frog and pushed the water behind himself with his arms, it felt a bit insufficient and was draining his energy quickly. You decided you would have to teach him differently. You were about to signal him to surface again, when a shadow came up behind him.
Your Ilu passed by him, her fins brushing him a bit more forceful than intended as she surged around him, curious and unafraid, assessing him as a new friend you brought. Unfortunately, Quaritch wasn't aware that this creature was of friendly nature and simply interested in him, threateningly invading his space.
He flinched hard in surprise, his body reacting with a gasp. Water instantly rushed into his lungs, body seizing to cough it out, which only made his nostrils fill with more water.
Memories breached through the panic, the burning sensation of drowning fresh like it once was, the darkness nipping at his vision while he was pulled under and the pressure weighing his body to sink to the ocean floor.
He thrashed helplessly, punching your Ilu in the neck. She instantly swam over to you with a hurt coo while Quaritch kicked his legs hard for the surface, fear obliterating any rational thought. Swimming up felt like torture, time had stopped as he ascended to the line where water met air.
He broke free gasping and clawed his way onto a slick rock, coughing violently, water spilling from his mouth as he retched and shook.
Quaritchs hands trembled, gripping the sharp ridges of the stone until his palms bled, bare knees scraping against the rough surface of the small rock formation surrounded by the sea.
He didn't even hear you get out of the water and climbing up beside him, only when he felt your hand on his back did he realise you were kneeling next to him. Your touch was grounding, easing his chills "Breathe" you cooed, brow furrowed in concern "You are okay"
He dragged air into his lungs like he would never get more if he stopped. "I-I can't-" He gasped, his head falling forward in exhaustion, but his body pushed him to the edge of hyperventilation.
"You can" you insisted firmly, your other hand coming up to shut his jaw and press it firmly over his mouth so he was forced to take deep breaths through his nose instead. His yellow eyes snapped to yours, in that moment you saw his very soul. And it terrified you as much as it woke your curiousity about this man. Not Miles Quaritch. But this man in front of you.
He was finally able to calm down, his blood pressure sinking as he looked at you, your presence making his heart settle again.
Your hand slid from his mouth to cup his jaw "You okay?" You asked then, the water dripping from his chin. He nodded "I'm okay" he rasped out, fighting the urge to lean into your touch.
"I'm sorry that Za'tary scared you" you pulled back quickly as the tension grew, instead keeping distance and apologizing, even after you felt something leap in your chest.
Quaritch went to sit up straight, brushing a hand through his cropped hair "Who?"
You chuckled softly as Za'tary popped her head out from the water, swimming around the island distressed, looking out for you. Quaritch spotted her, recognizing the animal as one he had ordered to be shot in another reef village weeks ago. He grimaced. "My Ilu. She is not dangerous" you explained to him, reaching your hand down to her to scratch her chin. She chittered, pleased.
"M'sorry for punchin' her" he said then, gnawing at his bottom lip.
You nodded in acknowledgment "It is okay, she is strong" you smiled, putting your fist up to tap your chest. He huffed a soft laugh, though his smile was barely there. "Well, guess she matches you then"
You scoffed at his words, shoving him gently "Do not think compliments will help you get out of this" you lectured with a teasing edge in your voice, already turning to the water. "Come" you waved.
"Ain't gonna risk drowning again, Lady" he crossed his arms over his chest, sitting on the stone like a child throwing a tantrum. You crouched closer to him, looking into his eyes "Because you do not know how to breathe" he looked at you as if he had never heard anything more stupid, but he bit the inside of his cheek to stay quiet.
You could see how bad he wanted to roll his eyes at you. "Here" you said, placing your hand flat against his toned abdomen. He stiffened instantly, but didn't pull away.
"Not your chest" you continued, you mimicked your touch on him by bringing his five fingered hand to sprawl against your stomach as well. You almost flinched, you hadn't expected him to be so...warm. You tried to snap out of it quickly "Your stomach. Feel it rise."
You inhaled deeply, demonstratively, waiting for him to do the same. At first he hesitated, but he soon closed his eyes to concentrate as he took a deep breath.
Your hand on his andomen moved ever so slightly, letting his skin press against your fingers as he held the air, before breathing out, ears flicking, unsure if he had done it right.
You nodded softly "Again."
While he repeated your instructions, your hand moved up from his stomach to his chest, tracing the ridges of his abs and pecs, four fingers laying flat against his heart. He watched you intently, his heartrate picking up and you felt it "You need to embrace the water, do not fear it. Calm heart"
Yeah, if you wouldnât be touching him like this, so damn soft in a way that made his skin tingle, then he could calm his heart alright. "M'not scared of the water" he muttered, avoiding your eyes.
Instead of asking why his heart was beating so fast then, you had the feeling you knew already, you pulled your hand away from his skin. "Then what are we waiting for?"
You stood and extended your hand out for him to take "Come." you incouraged again, and fuck, if you didnât look like a goddess right now, the sun just in the perfect angle behind you to make it seem like you were glowing from within, your hair a blissful halo around your face. "I will not let go of you this time" was this what the old sailors saw before being dragged deep into their deaths by a sirens call? He was about to find out, and he couldn't wait.
He grasped your hand in his, yours smaller due to the missing finger and followed you without hesitation as you stepped back into the water.
Step by step. You did not let go, just like you had promised.
Your other hand went up to grasp his free one, too, walking backwards into the sea. "The way of water" you started softly as the tide reached your waist, his eyes snapping up at you as he heard you speak "has no beginning and no end."
You guided him deeper, your grip curling firmly around him. You watched his muscles tense as the cold water lapped at his ribcage.
"The sea is around you" you continued "and in you." With every word you said, the water climbed higher around you both. His heart hammered, but he did not pull away, didn't stop looking into your eyes like nothing else mattered. In that moment it didn't.
Your voice was hypnotising, whatever ancient poem you were bewitching him with settled deep in his lungs, as if to make them stronger. "The sea is your home before your birth" your hands slipped from his hands to his wrists and up to his forearms, your bodies pushed closer together by the gentle waves "and after your death." you watched him swallow, his hands gripping your elbows as if he'd sink if he let go of you.
The water was abojt to cover your shoulders and you started to take deep breaths, in and out, he mimicked you. "The sea gives, and the sea takes."
Your throats were enveloped by the waves and you had to tip your head back to breath. It should have scared him, the way he clung to your every word.
"Water connects all things," you whispered, emptying your lungs one last time "Life to death. Darkness to light."
On the last word you both gasped for as much air as you could, before you submberged. Together.
The water closed over his head. His instinct screamed at him to flee at first, but your presence anchored him. Your eyes never left his, making sure he was okay, making sure he knew you got him, that he wasn't in danger.
You swam side by side through the colourful reef, he even tried to copy the way you moved underwater. It was clumsy, but you appreciated it.
You let him touch plants that retracted once he did, smiled as a group of zukzuks swarmed around him, their baby briefly settling down on his calf to enjoy a short ride, before it's mom snatched it away again. You laughed at that, bubbles forming behind your hand.
A featherfin fish rounded the corner of a large coral formation and Quaritch looked at you as if to ask permission to touch it. You nodded your head, biting your lip to swallow down your mischief.
None the wiser, Quaritch extended his hand, and by the time he barely grazed the creatures tail, he was slapped by it, the fish quickly swimming away.
Judging by the fact that you were already darting away by the time he realised, you knew that this would happen. You looked over your shoulder with a grin, a clear challenge, and he wouldnât be Quaritch if he didn't accept it, even when his chances were practically zero.
He tried to race after you, swimming through tall sea grass, rock formations, large tree-like corals which looked ancient, but by the time he had to stop as a giant school of weird looking yellow fish passed him by, he lost sight of you.
Quaritch looked to his right, his left, behind himself, turned in a whole circle to scan the area for you, but you had seemingly disappeared.
That's when a ring appeared around him, getting wider as it went over his head, thinning out until it broke apart into tiny airbubbles traveling to the surface. He looked down to his feet and saw you laying all the way down on the ocean floor, your hands near your mouth as you exhaled to push another bubble ring upward, which stretched out to let Quaritchs body pass through.
Seeing the bubbles made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He went to swim back up, breaking through the water with a gasp, but not panicked this time.
He looked around, only to see that the rock you two had been on previously was now so small in the distance, he could barely make it out. In that moment he realised just how far you two had swam, and how long he had held his breath without even noticing.
Quaritch watched you resurface right in front of him, much more graceful than he had. "Not bad, sky man" you teased, trying not to grin too much. You were just his teacher, after all. Not his friend.
He splashed water into your direction "You're playing unfair, you knew that damn fish was gonna slap me"
You faked a surprised look, turning to swim to a smooth rock that peeked from the shallow ends of the lagoon "Did I?" you asked innocently, but he knew you were smirking when you turned your head away. "Don't play dumb with me, missy" he darted behind you "Thought you'd teach me all rights and wrongs so I can learn to see"
You climbed onto the stone that was smooth under your skin, warmed from the sun. "No one can teach you how to see" you explained, sitting down comfortably to let the warmth of the sun dry your clothes.
Quaritch stayed in the water but folded his arms up and supported himself on the rock like this so he wouldn't get pushed back into the ocean by the waves, his whole body floating on top of the water, the sun shining warm on his back as well, the dogtags around his neck glimming in the light "Ain't that your pretty little job?"
You shook your head "You have to experience it yourself. You find something that makes you want to see"
Quaritch scratched mindlessly on the rock with his finger, kicking his legs behind him in the water "how will I know I found it?" he asked you then, looking up to you sunbathing. If he was actully curious or just playing with you, you couldn't tell, but you answered anyway "You will know"
You spent the whole afternoon like this. You had fallen asleep on the warm rock, fully at peace, not caring if Quaritch stayed or not. You weren't his babysitter after all, you hadn't even been given the task to teach him. It just all fell into place, somehow.
When you awoke, your skin was now a slight deeper teal colour everywhere the sun could reach. When you looked around yourself, Quaritch was nowhere to be seen.
A heavy feeling settled in your chest, even though you shouldnât care at all. Why would you?
Suddenly, a gasp sounded in front of you and Quaritch surfaced, adding a few colourful stones to a pile that he had collected while you slept. He wiped the water from his face with his hand, shaking his head like a dog to get rid of the droplets adorning his hair. Only then did he notice you were awake "Hey, sleepin' beauty" he grinned up at you, a soft sunburn stretching across his cheeks.
But you were more intrigued by the little trinkets he brought "What is all this?" you asked him, crouching closer to pick up a smooth tumbled rock that glinted iridecent in the sunlight.
He shrugged, pushing the pile closer to you so you could look through them, as if searching for your approval "I went diving while you were sleeping. Thought I would collect some pretty rocks, hell knows what you people could use it for"
Your fingers found one singular shell between the stones he had gathered. You picked it up with a smile, admiring the spiky ring around the top that was sharp enough to cut skin, though the colours showed otherwordly beauty, a pearlescent band wrapping around the sturdy shell. Just how fitting.
You brought the shell up and held it against his hairline "The King's crown" you announced the name of this specific type of shell. He chuckled at that "That's what it's called?" he asked you and you nodded with an affirmative hum.
"Well, guess I gotta keep that one to myself then" he pursed his lips slightly, cheeky, and you huffed, giving his forehead a shove with your pointer finger "Big headed man" you scolded, but without any bark behind it.
He asked you to sort out the stones that you thought would be useful. He brought the ones that were left to the shore, waving you over to join him. You packed up the rocks into a little pouch around your hip before you stood next to him in the sand and watched him do something he called skipping stones.
He threw them into the water and magically, they jumped a few times over the surface until they finally sank. You looked at him like he was crazy and picked up a stone yourself, threw it, and it was pulled underwater instantly with a loud splash.
Between a bit of lighthearted banter, he taught you this knew skill, even went diving on his own to retrieve more rocks when you ran out. You failed each and every time, but it was so fun. You almost forgot who he was, that he wasn't one of the people just because he had reluctantly put on a loincloth and that he certainly wasn't as kind and carefree as it felt.
Still you tried to ignore the others that watched you from a distance- Jake who seemed almost proud, Neytiri who wasn't happy with this situation at all, Spider who...well, he observed quietly, went to occupy himself with Lo'ak and Tsireya, not quite accepting the good time Quaritch seemed to be having after everything that happened in the last few weeks.
Maybe Quaritch had felt your slight hesitation, but how could he blame you at all, or anyone in this village?
By the time the sky dipped into an orange hue, you had thrown more rocks in your life than you ever had before, and just when you were about to give up, the last stone you picked up skipped over the water one, two, three times before sinking. It hadn't held out long like Quaritchs, but at least you had actually managed it.
"Not bad" he mirrored your words from today holding up his weird looking hand. You stared at him as if waiting for something to happen, but it just...didn't. "What are you doing?" you asked, huffing out a small laugh.
"Uhh, High-five?" he stated as if it was so obvious, you tilted your head even further. "I do not know what that is"
He cleared his throat to mask the slight embarrassement creeping up and took his hand down again "We do that as a little celebration, when something good happens" he shrugged and you eyed him up and down, then you smiled softly "You sky people are weird"
He chuckled dryly "Yeah, guess we are. But hey, I taught you somethin' too. Makes us even, I shouldnât be the only one to change my worldview entirely" his stance was proud, and maybe he was right. Without another word you turned, flicking your head into the direction he should follow you in. The eclipse was near and you were both starving.
He followed just half a step behind you as you walked along the line where sand met water, the waves lapping at your feet.
He walked, the loincloth remaining uncomfortable, especially now that it was wet and clinging to his legs âStill feels weird, this thing" he muttered, though more to himself than to you.
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes flicking briefly over his form, appreciatively, before returning forward. âIt suits youâ you said.
A stupid grin stretched across his face, flattered and proud, his chest puffing up just a little ââŚYeah?â
âYes.â you confirmed.
And for the rest of the walk to his marui, he didnât complain once.
You both then ate dinner together in silence. You had brought roasted fish wrapped in broad leaves, some fruits and steamed vegetables cut into pieces. It probably wasn't something he usually ate from where he came from, but he dove in without hesitation and it left him full, but not uncomfortably like the fast food at bridgehead did, and he felt energized. He felt good.
You sat crosslegged across from him, just staring at him as you finished your food, while he sucked his fingers clean. That image made something in your stomach flip, but you pushed it down. Instead you reached into the pouch at your hip and withdrew the shell he had retrieved earlier.
Quaritch frowned, swallowing down the last pieces of food in his mouth âThat thing again?â
You took a length of dried vine and braided it around the shell, hooking the spikes at the crown between the material to create a space that held the shell firmly in place.
Quaritch watched your hands, his head tilted. ââŚSo what is this exactly?â he said at last, voice rough but not mocking "M'not really a jewelry person"
Your head lifted and you studied his face for a second longer, then returned to your work. âThis is not just decoration.â You tied the vine securely, tested the knot with a firm tug, then held it up between you.
âThisâ you declared âis the beginning of a songcordâ
He stared at the dangling shell. âA what?â
You shifted closer to him, not invading, but closing the distance enough that the cord could hang between you. âA songcord is a life" you explained âIt starts with your birth and ends with your death. It is the keeper of memories, it marks important moments in someones life"
You lifted your own from where it rested wrapped against your forearm. Quaritch hadnât noticed it before. Not really. It was longer than he expected, going all the way from your wrist to above your ellbow. A cascade of shells, beads, carved bone, pearls and braided fibers, each and every piece different.
âThis is mineâ you spoke with a sense of proudness that made something in his chest ache. âOur lives are not meant to disappearâ you almost whispered âThey are meant to be remembered. Sung. Passed on. No one is ever forgottenâ
Quaritch looked down at the shell in your hand. He didn't understand everything yet, didn't feel it the way you did. Maybe he never would get to that point, but he felt like listening to you was worth it.
He bowed his head down to let you hang his new songcord around his neck, for now. You admired it for a moment, your hand brushing over his chest. Then you suddenly lifted his silver dogtags over his head. "Hey, what are you-" for a second, he thought you'd throw the necklace into the sea just how you did it with his clothes this morning, stripping him off the last pieces of his identity completely.
To his surpise, you chose to wear the dogtags yourself. They looked good on you. Fuck did they look good on you.
You played with them, letting the unfamiliar material slip through your fingers, the tags warm through his body heat "You are right. Changes and growth happen together, and I promise to not just teach, but to learn. To learn you" nothing you did could have prepared him for this.
And with that you stood, but before you could just vanish, he stopped you. You turned to him, a bit agitated as if you had just said too much and wanted to desperately disappear "I promise I will... try" try what? To be better? To learn, to understand?
He didn't know, but you seemed to be pleased, just nodding at him before you finally left.
Just how was he supposed to sleep after all of this?
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
I really hope you guys like this as much as I do. I guess you can tell just how carried I gotđ Part two will probably take a while if it is about as long as this one, but part two will have smut in it you freaks
So stay tuned, likes, reblogs and comments mean the world to me!!
SYNOPSIS : Your father's name has been whispered countless times over the centuriesâthe famed and feared Draculaâfiction to most, but a warm reality to you. To youâto your siblingsâhe was Vlad Stoker, a man whose actions gave you a second chance. Yet after a harrowing event in 1840 that left your family seemingly broken beyond repair, you make it your eternal life's mission to seek out Dracula. However, when a certain Original shows up at your doorstep to cash in an ancient favor, you and your brother have no choice but to return to the wretched town of Mystic Falls. [ Elijah x reader] [Klaus x reader]
FACECLAIMS FOR ARC I : The Stokers!
ARC I : in progress...
Prologue [only the last part has been cut off for those that have already read it.]
Synopsis: A letter in the night changes the course of your future forever. With Lady Catelyn's husband dead, and the Baratheon line uncertain she seizes the opportunity to save her daughters and reunite her family. Under the cover of darkness she pens a letter to the only remaining bloodline with a true claim to the iron throne. To Visery Targaryen, bartering a match between his younger sister and the proclaimed King in the North. With your husband and child recently deceased, and Robb in love with another, the marriage promises a perfect storm. You had long been aware that love was not guaranteed in life, but you would not let one would-be king's disapproval of you stop you from taking back what was rightfully yours with fire and blood.
The reader hears voices brought on by magic. This may be triggering for people who experience psychosis. Please take care.
If you are not comfortable with any of the (canon) themes in the game of thrones universe do not read this story as all themes are included
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1 - Disdain
Synopsis: With the promise of the iron throne once again in Visery's grasp, you find yourself caught in the middle of someone elseâs war. Conquests are replaced with domesticity, as youâre uprooted from your life, dragged across the sea and planted in rotting soil. With few allies, and trust all but forsaken, you arm yourself with knowledge, replacing weapons with words. You would need your wits about you if you wanted to survive in the north. Those fighting held no loyalty to you, and your husband to-be was colder than the surrounding air, but what was the relevance of another would-be king to a rightful queen, and what was the opinion of a wolf to a dragon?
TW: Physical and verbal abuse, sexual harassment, Blood, violence, mentions of slavery, death, murder, threats, misogyny, sexism, hunting
A Political Affair ⢠Alone in a Stranger's Land ⢠Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon ⢠Innocent Indiscretions ⢠Capable Hands ⢠Dances and Diatribes ⢠From the Ashes
SEARCH â buttered brown and pretty in pink â britain can't get enough of you. ââ ⪠fluff + hint of smut â ft. anime nerds, interracial relationship, kuro gyaru girl, special post for my people <3 : britain dalton Ă black_female!reader âŤ
ps. britain deserves the biggest apology.
â¤ď¸. anime conventions lived in britain's veins, in fact, he met you there! he wasn't a fan of pink until he saw you. pink didn't dull your chocolate brown skin. it highlighted you, it belonged to you. you stood out without even noticing, in your insane, avant-garde gyaru look. it told him what exactly you are, fearless yet free. he adored that.
â¤ď¸. in all honesty, the fans attending were very questioning. however, he approached you in a bashful manner with a goofy joke that made you giggle nevertheless, you thought he was pretty cute and you never left his side ever since, he just genuinely love the culture.
â¤ď¸. you both clicked well... super well. britain is definitely an introvert, it showed from the start but he was a yapper with you. talked about your favorite anime characters, shows that are overrated and underrated, figure shopping, you both already made plans to go on trips to japan. you just made his entire day complete, he had to get your number and nearly, two years you glad you accepted him.
â¤ď¸. the best boyfriend ever!
â¤ď¸. people judge dating outside your race but honestly, you didnât care. you are quick to stand up for him and he does the same for you.
â¤ď¸. britain worships you to the ground!!! nobody never understood the "his eyes lit up" phrase but damn, was it strong whenever he looked at you. you got your friends thinking they need a white chocolate in their lives.
â¤ď¸. you are his favorite girl and he isn't hesitant to show you off. majority of the time, he ain't going to places unless you're going, you are his happiness.
â¤ď¸. he's comfy to show off his 'odd' side, always deep convos with him like: "why is the sky blue?" - "why is it only 5% of the ocean been discovered?" - "what's the afterlife like?". and you will never be uncomfortable because you question it the same way.
â¤ď¸. just for fun and games, you both take the time out and study japanese together, although when you guys communicate it's not normal, you guys got fluent without even noticing.
â¤ď¸. loves everything about you especially that melanin skin how smooth it looks and feels, lips coated heavy in lipgloss, your natural smell of shea butter, you in PINK.
â¤ď¸. hell, you love him especially when he's so respectful and a lover boy but can't keep his hands to himself. you are his pillow, it's always a thigh grab, hugging your small pooch, resting his head on your butt. and if he really wants a good night sleep? his face is buried in your stomach with his beefy arms around your waist, don't you dare to move not even to grab your nitendo switch.
â¤ď¸. you guys communicate in kaomojis, it doesn't matter if its cringe to him, as long as both of you guys are happy and free.
â¤ď¸. spoils you endlessly, with: sanrio hello kitty plush toys, big and small, whenever he goes to japan. every shade of pink bows. every shade of pink jumbo phonecases. pink makeup palettes. honey, strawberry and vanilla scented body splashes. it's scary sometimes, you have to hide his savings from him.
â¤ď¸. and even matching underwear sets (if days when he was bold enough to gift you one, shyboi), he finds himself a pervert to gift you them but you would prove him wrong by sending pictures of you and your brown glowing skin in them. how can someone be cute yet so sexy at the same time?
â¤ď¸. he definitely blushes and covers his face whenever he gets your pics in public.
â¤ď¸. has an entire photo album of you because you are that adorable: your gyaru makeup, pretty smiles, off guard pictures, cosplay outfits, duck faces, doe eyes, smudged lips, only in stockings, dare i go deeper?
â¤ď¸. bending over in small skirts in front of him and thinking it would make him flustered but eventually he would bend you over and fuck you with it on.
â¤ď¸. makeout sessions hit different with him, holding onto your hips, getting high of your cocoa butter scent, he won't ever stop, his only excuse is to say he ain't done eating his chocolate.
â¤ď¸. by looks, people wouldn't think you are a hottie, you adore megan thee stallion she lets you proudly emphasizes your status as a genuine anime fan and as a black woman showing off her nerdy side.
â¤ď¸. but you will break out of your shell when listening to her songs.
â¤ď¸. one time you both went to the club and when a megan song started playing, you threw it back on your man, and britain just stared at it awe. he's never seen you ass move like that before, he swore blacked out a bit that night.
â¤ď¸. uses you as his workout equipment. dumbbells? nah. you sit cross-legged in his arms while he does slow, careful curls. each sit up equals an earned kiss from you. push-ups with you sitting on his back, laughing every time he shakes.
â¤ď¸. good morning messages are a must from him. he texts first always, even if itâs just: "morning, pretty." sometimes he follows it up a few minutes later with, "did you sleep okay?" other mornings, thatâs all he sends since he has a major job â but he lets you know you were on his mind before the day could claim him.
â¤ď¸. best names to be called ⥠angel, doll, princess, babydoll, pretty girl.
â¤ď¸. britain love his brown sugar princess. he don't want a snow bunny, he needa ebony.
Š jioohyo. all rights reserved. do not republish or translate my fics. 2026
âą Summary: The Sully's come to your tribe, Hulanta, for uturu. When they came to the swamp, they didn't know the Tsahik was going to make their heads spin. Within her presence, it'll be the close they'll ever get to Eywa.
âą Tags: Manipulation, infidelity, marking, scenting, blood, reader is a maneater, reader is morally-grey, sex dreams, masturbation, p in v, cunnilingus, praise-kink, reader will be degrading Quaritch, old men complaining and competing, father at competition with sons, sons at competition with father, tonguing them down.
summary: Broken by the fall of the Hometree and Eywa's silence, you dream for a possibility of peace of mind, figuratively and literally. You come to the Metkayina's village looking for a temporary refuge in your search of said peace, and end up never leaving in favour of love.
pairing(s): tonowari x omatikaya!reader, platonic reader x neytiri
word count: 15k (i know...)
warnings: reader is neytiri's sister, grief and mourning, mention of dead bodies, eywa's constant meddling, probably suggestive, yearning, pining, "but i don't want ninat", added lore cuz i got carried away, kinda miscommunication, no ronal hate, space racism?, complex neytiri i fear...., mentioned pregnancy, mentioned childbirth, rotxo is adopted lmao, when the story starts reader is around 19 and both neytiri and tonowari are around 22, takes place after avatar (2009), proofread one time instead of the two usual times so pls let me know if there are any errors
author's note: can't believe this fine shyt is now a single dad
dividers from @uzmacchiato!
When the smoke clears and the ashes fall, nothing is left of the Hometree.Â
Nothing but the stump, the bulging roots and the cut-off part remain of your destroyed home. Youâve never seen one, but you think that the remains of the tree must look like a decapitated corpse â something that once was full of life, and now is just⌠there. A reminder of what was.Â
Many managed to evacuate the branches as it fell, but just as much ended up being buried by its massive limbs; you canât find it in yourself to understand if it was a blessing â for them to have such a quick death, one that avoided them from feeling the endless grief youâre feeling now â or a tragedy. You keep asking Eywa the same question, but either she doesnât know, or she wonât tell you.Â
She hasnât been telling you much lately, anyway.Â
As the daughter of the Oloâeyktan and TsahĂŹk, you grew up close to the bond you shared with Eywa. Moâat always brought you and your sisters along with her to pray, and the three of you soon learnt how to perceive her in everything you did and everything that happened. The Great Mother is in all of us, your mom used to always say, before you fully grasped the concept. She gives, and we take. And when the time comes, weâll be the ones to give back what we borrowed.Â
It looks like, to you, that the time has come. Only, Eywa wonât seem to take anything from you.Â
During the day, youâre back at the ruins of the Hometree, with a few other Omatikayas looking for the remains of their loved ones. When they are easy to remove, you do so, and then give them the burial they deserve as a part of the People; when the branches have buried them too deep in the terrain for you to remove them, you pray for them and their souls, hoping that they are, at last, at peace.Â
At night, you pray by the Tree of Souls until the first morning lights shine through the outline of the mountains, when your mother wakes and gently drags you to the marui you share with her and orders â more like begs â you to sleep. âYou wonât be able to hear Eywa better if you tire yourself so, daughter,â she utters as she holds you tight in her arms, humming that same lullaby she used to when you were little. âI doubt she wants you to be exhausted.âÂ
You sniffle brokenly, hiding in her shoulder like a child as she covers you with the blanket she had stitched with the help of Sylwanini and Neytiri when she first realised she was pregnant with you. Itâs a miracle you managed to salvage it from the fall of the Hometree, as most of your belongings have been lost during it. âWe still havenât found Tsuâtey, saânok,â you whisper, muffling a sob.Â
Moâat sighs softly, holding you tighter. âOeyä yawne,â my beloved, she starts, âTsuâtey died a great death. Even if you do not find what remains of him, Iâm sure Eywa will hold him close nevertheless. He fell into the ocean, after all â sheâs strong there, too. We might not think of it to be our home, but everywhere Eywa is, can be considered our home.âÂ
Still, itâs hard to believe that Jakesully out of all people is helping rebuild your village.Â
Heâs supposed to be one of the aliens that came from the sky â one of the four-fingered demons that have destroyed your home. And somehow, Eywa still chose him to lead the Omatikaya.Â
You donât deny his bravery, nor his will to learn your ways, nor the fact that he is a great warrior â Turuk Makto, in fact. It doesnât mean that it isnât hard for you to look at him and not see the Hometree lying dead on the ground, burning, and the Tree of Voices reduced to shreds under the dozers.Â
You know itâs probably just your grief talking â youâve never had anything against the man, not even when he first came here, blabbering about wanting to learn the way or whatever the RDA had put in his head â but you donât know what else to do. When youâre not looking around for the corpses of the fallen, or praying for them, or begging Eywa to tell you the meaning of all of this, youâre either crying or trying to sleep â and when the latter comes, itâs never restful.Â
Neytiri is grieving, too, and you know it, but she takes it differently â because she has Jake, and sheâs putting all she has into building a new, safe village, where maybe one day their kids will grow happily. But you feel stuck â like when it fell, the Hometree swallowed you, too, along with all the fallen comrades that you had known for your whole life.Â
Your answers finally come during another restless night spent under the Soul Tree.Â
Your mother has since stopped trying to coax you away from it â instead, she has taken to making salves and weaving shawls under the light of the branches as you weep silently for a sign, the terrain still against your body, unlike the usual steady beat you used to feel. Sometimes Moâat braids your hair, other times recalls stories of your father and sister, but mostly lets you cry it out â even if her heart breaks every time a tear slips down your cheek. Neytiri sometimes comes along, chanting her songs and saying her prayers, but lately, sheâs taken to spending her nights in the tent she calls home, with Jakesully.Â
(Not that you blame her. If you had a mate, youâd probably find comfort in them, too. If you had a mate, maybe you wouldnât be so utterly hopeless.)Â
Itâs when you find sleep while having these thoughts that finally, Eywa responds to your call in the best way she knows â a dream.Â
You feel like youâre floating, and finally, finallyâ you can feel her presence. Sheâs everywhere, surrounding you with her warmth, and itâs just when you look around to understand where you are that you notice that you are underwater. Life swarms you from every angle â the fishes twirling in a dance only they can understand, anemones and corals shimmering with bioluminescence on the rocks under your feet.Â
You donât know for how long you swim, but what you know is that you havenât felt this feeling in what seems like ages. You have missed the Great Motherâs presence, and if this dream tells you anything, itâs that maybe, she has missed you, too.Â
A large, warm hand engulfs yours. You canât see the face of the man that has taken it, but by the color of his skin, he canât be Omatikaya. Come with me, a voice says, and you arenât able to really distinguish it â it does not sound like a real voice, rather like a spoken thought inside your mind. Our Spirit Tree is this way. You feel the same hand on the small of your back, guiding you in the water, in a way so gentle that you already dread the moment his touch will fade.Â
You wake up with your hand still feeling warm and dried tears staining your cheeks. The ground youâre lying on feels stiff and cold. Hoisting yourself up on your elbows, you notice the sky â itâs still night â and your mother, sleeping with her head leaning on the trunk of the tree. âAre you trying to tell me that I have to find my peace somewhere else?â you murmur quietly to the tree, impossibly tired in every way imaginable. And maybe itâs just an impression, or your lack of sleep, but you think the branches glow a little more than usual at that.Â
The hard part is not accepting to leave behind the Omatikaya â in your heart, you knew that a part of you died when the Hometree fell, and no new village would ever make up for what the sky people have taken away from you; every camp made after that would only look like a ghost of what was, where you grew up in.Â
No, no. The hard part is convincing both the TsahĂŹk and the Oloâeyktan to let you go.Â
By the time morning comes, your bags are already packed. Your ikran, Ryâia, is waiting for you just outside of the village chirping softly with Neytiriâs mount, Saâatra, as you pull on your traveling shawl and wait for the villagers to wake up before your departure. Needless to say, it doesnât take long for chaos to erupt.Â
Neytiri drags you away from the astounded clan members as soon as she gets wind of whatâs happening, Moâat and Jakesully on tow when she sits you down in one of the newest tents, her face unreadable as she takes a seat in front of you. âExplain.âÂ
You look at her mate and your mother, sitting respectively on her left and on her right, and suddenly your heart fills up with courage you werenât even aware of having. âI had a dream last night,â you start, âEywa has shown me where to find my peace again.âÂ
As you recall your vision, you can tell that the only one fully understanding the meaning of it is your mother, because while Jakesully doesnât look too troubled about it, Neytiri hasnât had that betrayed look on her face towards you since you were seven, and you stole the last piece of fruit intended for her. âWhat?â she asks in pure disbelief, âWhaâ why would you ever think of going away from here, sister? We have plenty of men who would be delighted to have you as their mate. We have the ocean. We have fishes. Do you really have to look for them from another clan to be happy?âÂ
You shake your head, guilt seeping through your chest. âSister, if I could be happy while being here, close to you, I would stay. ButâŚâ Your eyes drift up to Jake and immediately go back to her, not wanting to blame him for all the things humans have done to you. âI canât find it in myself to build a new village that Tsuâtey, fatherâ hell, Sylwanin wonât see. And even if I couldâŚâ
You scroll your shoulders, âEywa has shown me the way,â you say firmly, âand I will follow it.âÂ
Neytiri looks over to Moâat, searching for support in the discussion. âMother, please, tell her this is madness,â
She looks at her for a singular moment, then to you. Finally, she speaks. âWhen I was your age, I had a dream, too. It led me to your father.â The story isnât new to you â everyone knows Moâat was part of the Orangi clan before she married your father.Â
Neytiri stares at her, âMother, you canât be seriousâ she doesnât even know whereââÂ
âHow can she know, if she does not try?â The TsahĂŹk interrupts her, âEywa has shown her that she wonât find peace while living here. These things are rare, but they happened. That was my case, at least.â
Your sister gapes at her, flabbergasted, only to look back at you, getting back up on her feet. âIf you leave,â she hisses, âI will never forgive you.â She storms out, her tail twitching after her, leaving the tent feeling even colder than before.
Finally, you manage to look at Jakesully straight into his eyes, trying to avoid the glare your mother is sending him, and youâre surprised to see an actual understanding of the situation there. âYou do understand why I canât stay here, do you?â
He blinks, sad. âI do.âÂ
You nod, âGood. I would never ask you to leave â this is your home, too, after all. And it would mean sacrificing Neytiriâs happiness. Iâd rather be happy here too, but⌠I canât do that. Not while my loved ones lay under the Hometree, dead.â you shake your head, ashamed of what youâre about to say, âNot while you are here living the life they deserved. I am sorry, Jakesully.â
Tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. âItâs okay,â he mutters, sorrowful, âI know you would stay here if you could. Just⌠please, do not go today. Wait until the end of the week. Let me talk to your sisterâ Iâll try to change her mind.â
As he leaves to go look for Neytiri, you are left with your mother. Your eyes remain downwards, all the courage of before gone after your sisterâs outburst, your heart feeling heavier than ever. Needless to say, when she moves to hug you, youâre left stunned â you were waiting for her to tell you you were mad, too. âI am sorry, daughter,â she says, her usually firm voice trembling, âI did not understand your pain was so great. I thought Eywa had in her plans to keep my daughters close to me, but if having you far from me is the price for your happiness, then Iâll gladly take everything that comes with it.â
You avoid mentioning her teary eyes when she pulls back, her hands holding your shoulders. She sniffles, trying to save face. âThe Metkayina are the only sea clan your fatherâs ever had contact with,â she manages, "their Oloâeyktan may still remember him. You should start your search from there.â
In the following days, you are smothered with gifts.Â
Everyone makes something for you to take on your travels, or to give to the chiefs of the foreign clans youâll visit. Your friends Ninat and Peyral stitch a beautiful shawl in record time, stitched beads and feathers in it. So that you may have something to remember us by, Peyral explains, emotional, as Ninat nearly bursts into tears.Â
Your mother makes a TsahĂŹk necklace typical of the Omatikaya and tells you to give it to the wife of the chief. Showing respect to your hosts is always important, remember. Do not forget your culture, but do not force it on them, either.Â
Even Jake turns up one night, giving you a funny-looking bone knife that he clearly has just learned how to carve. âAs a⌠parting gift?â he tells you, even if it sounds more like a question. His ears bend down, âIâm sorry you feel like you have to leave to be happy. I wish things didnât have to be this way.â I wish you could overcome our differences like your sister did.Â
You look at the knife â the jaggedy blade looking ugly but clearly heartfelt â and then back at him. âYouâre a good man, Jakesully,â you tell him. âI am truly sorry that my opinion on you has to be stained by what your kind has done to us â but perhaps, itâs just because things are a little too fresh. Perhaps, I just need some time away from here.âÂ
Neytiri doesnât come looking for you until it is time for you to go. As you say your goodbyes to friends and everyone you grew up with, she shuffles quietly behind Jake, her hands behind her back. Still hugging Kaâani, you look at her as she gets closer, suspiciously quiet, only to present you with a bead on her open palm.Â
You gasp at the sight of it â itâs a bright blue stone, one of the ones to be found only in the ikransâ nest, with the Omatikaya clan symbol etched on it. âFor your songcord,â she explains, not looking you in the eye. âTo mark your⌠new start. Your travels.âÂ
You look at the bead, taking it in your hands, then tug Neytiri close to hug her as tight as possible. âIâll miss you, sister,â you murmur in her shoulder.Â
Even if sheâs supposed to be mad at you, she reciprocates the hug immediately, and it doesnât take long for the tough facade to crumble. âPlease, come back when youâre finally happy again, okay?â her voice is trained, and you doubt anyone but you heard her whisper. âThis will always be your home. Youâll always have a place to stay here â with me.âÂ
Ryâia is delighted in the change of scenery â you can tell by the way she reacts through the bond, but also the happy shrieks she lets out once you lower her near the surface of the ocean so that her wings may touch the water. You look behind you â to the mountains that youâve called home ever since you came to the world â one last time before turning your gaze back to the sea, the directions your mother gave you etched into your mind.Â
Awaâatlu is almost three days of travel from your village, turned into four by the stops you make to allow Ryâia and yourself some rest. And when you finally reach it, itâs night, and only a few lights are shimmering in the Metkayina village. Not wanting to disturb their sleep, you turn your ikran to the rocky side of the island â devoid of any maruis from what you can see â and land atop the coast, dismounting from Ryâia and patting the side of her neck. âGood girl,â you murmur, ârest now, yes? Iâll take a dip and be back here with you in a moment.â
You remove your traveling shawl as she chirps quietly, remaining in your loincloth and chest piece as you dive into the waters.Â
You feel like crying in relief when you finally feel her. Eywa is everywhere here â she surrounds you with the water in bioluminescence, in the anemones that move in rhythm with the currents and the nocturnal fishes that swim around in a haze. Itâs like waking up from a bad dream, being able to finally feel her again.Â
Even if brief, the peace it gives you swells your heart. The Great Mother wasnât holding a grudge against you â you simply werenât searching for her in the right place.Â
You resurface to catch some air, only to notice that you arenât alone.
A turquoise zukzuk â an otterfin â stares at you with her big eyes, and if she werenât an animal, youâd say she was smiling at you. She rubs her snout into your shoulders, chirping happily, and you chuckle, petting her back, âArenât you a cutie? Oh, yes you are, yes you areâŚâ
She licks your cheek, and you fake a gag even as she basically throws herself in your arms. âNow, hasnât anyone ever told you not to trust strangers? If I were a tad bit more selfish, Iâd totally bring you home with me,â youâre not sure how you would manage an otterfin in the forest or while traveling, but youâre sure that if thereâs a will, thereâs a way.Â
âHey, you shouldnât swim here when itâs dark,âÂ
The screech you let out is loud enough to wake up the whole village, youâre sure. The zukzuk â who looks more scared than you â jumps in your arms as you hug her, ready to defend her from any possible attacker. The latter â a man with turquoise skin and weird tattoos over his face â screams back, mostly startled by your yelling.Â
âSorry, sorry!â he puts his hands in front of him as your screams die down, still hugging the otterfin, âI didnât mean to startle you, itâs just that â weâre too close to the reef, and itâs mating season for the akulas. Their cubs will start hunting for preys any moment now. Itâs dangerous to stay here for long.â
You share a look with the otterfin, whoâs still cuddled to you, and itâs just then that the man seems to notice her. He frowns, âNala, is that you?â It's the same tone you use for Ryâia when she pulls some kind of stunt you told her not to do, and the zukzuk lets out a noise while looking at you with the biggest eyes as if to say, Iâve never met this man in my life.Â
The latter gasps, âIt is you!âÂ
The pup cuddles closer to you, hiding under your chin, her tongue slipping out of her mouth like she wants to mock him. You raise an eyebrow, âThis is your zukzuk?â
The guy nods, âShe knows she shouldnât swim here at night, itâs dangerousââ
A rumble from below interrupts him, and you all freeze. ââŚWhat did you say about those akula cubs?â You donât even know what an akula is, but judging from the fact that apparently their cubs make swimming at night dangerous, it canât be anything good.Â
His hand wraps around your wrist as he starts to drag you away, back onto the shore, much faster than it took you to even get here. âJust where did you come from? Are you Taâunui really so clueless?â Another rumble from behind you, and he swims even faster. You keep Nala under your arm, and she keeps moving her tail like sheâs trying to help him move away.Â
Itâs only when youâre out of trouble and onto the shore, where the water reaches your knees and youâre illuminated by the bioluminescence and the moons, that he notices that you donât look like a Tauânui at all. He stares at your slim tail and arms, leaning his head like heâs never seen a specimen like this, and even your clothes are weird. Quite dumbly, he pulls at the feathers stitched into your top, staring intently, âWhat are those?â
The fact is, youâre also just noticing that he doesnât look like normal Naâvi men, too â at least, not to the ones youâre used to. Heâs broader, taller, and apparently also dumber, because he doesnât even seem to notice that heâs just grazed and uncovered part of your breast.Â
You deadpan. He blinks. Nala barks. He lets the feathers go as he turns purple, âSorry, I didnât notice.â Heâs lucky that the Omatikaya are people raised with no shame about their bodies, because otherwise, the slap you wouldâve given him wouldnât have been too nice from a girl whoâs supposed to look for uturu in his clan.Â
You squeeze the water out of your hair as he stares weirdly, Nala twirling around the two of you. âWhy were you swimming if the waters are so dangerous at night?â You ask him, trying not to stare too much at his arms â you never thought that the Omatikaya men needed more muscles, but now you understand that if they did, it wouldnât have been such a bad thing. His tail â twitching uneasily behind him â is thicker and longer than yours, and his arms have strange prolongments on their sides â to help swimming, you suppose. While Omatikaya grow slender and thin to avoid any difficulty in swinging in the forest, maybe the Metkayina grow to swim more efficiently in the ocean.Â
âI was looking for her,â he points at Nala, âwe spoiled her a little too much, and now she doesnât know how to take a no.â He tries to smile at you, âYouâre not from around here, are you? Your tail would be horrible for swimming.âÂ
You nod, âIâm from the forest clans â the Omatikaya.â you tell him your name, and he nods. âI came here looking for uturu, but the village seemed to be asleep when I got here, so I figured I would talk to the chief in the morning.â
He looks troubled, âIâm Tonowari,â he introduces himself, âIâm from the village. Uturu? Has something happened to the Omatikaya?âÂ
No matter how much you insist he doesnât, he drags you to the village â in the literal sense, as you didnât want to follow him and he has to take you by your wrist â and over to a secluded mauri, where he finally lets go. Ryâia chirps tiredly beside you, huffing indignantly at him as you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders. âIâll talk to Oloâeyktan and TsahĂŹk,â Tonowari tells you, nodding to the mauri, âwait for me here, okay?â Nala quietly follows him, dragging her little belly over the sand.Â
You didnât really explain the whole thingâ you just told him that youâre here to find contact with Eywa again because you werenât able to in your homeland. You donât really know why he insisted so much in talking to the chiefs now, and you canât help but wonder why he feels comfortable waking up the two most important people in his village for a stranger.Â
Soon enough, he comes back out from the marui, gesturing for you to come inside; you do, and youâre greeted by two very much awake chiefs, sitting with their backs straight as ever.Â
âOloâeyktan Arvak and TsahĂŹk Tsika,â Tonowari tells you, nodding to them, âIâll leave the three of you aloneâ keep an eye on that big bird of yours.â
âSheâs not a big bird," you whisper, too tired to fully protest. He pats your shoulder, looking a bit guilty, letting the woven sheet atop the pod close back behind you, âSure she isnât,âÂ
You remain alone with the chiefs â and Nala, who you realise just now hasnât followed Tonowari. Looking at the couple, you figure that the Metkayina must all have his same features. âSit,â Tsika gestures to the empty space in front of them, âand tell us everything.â
Recounting the fall of the Hometree is more difficult than you thought it would be â because even if itâs been almost a month now, the wound still feels fresh. They listen, not prodding for more information when you stop to take a deep breath to avoid bursting in tears, and the TsahĂŹk puts a hand over her mouth when you mention your father. âEytukan,â she murmurs, looking over to her mate. âHe came here when we called for the other TsahĂŹks.âÂ
At your confused face, Arvak explains, âA little over twenty years ago, our son fell sick. Rashes all over his body, convulsions, other symptoms weâd never seen before.âÂ
His wife takes a deep breath, âWhen nothing seemed to work and we lost all hope, Arvak chose to call the other clansâ TsahĂŹks and healers for help. The Taâunui sent a healer, the Aranahe some healing plants, and everyone pretty much did the same. But your father,â she pokes you in the chest, not in a mean way â in a way that says, the man youâre half a part of. âOloâeyktan Eytukan came here himself. Excused his wifeâs absence, told us she had just given birth to their third daughter and wasnât able to travel properly. He took a look at our sonâs state, and said that it probably was txumpaywll poisoning â until then, we didnât even know that its plants had started to grow on our islands. Made a salve for his rashes, concocted the antidote and left when he got better.âÂ
They bow their heads at you, âIt will be an honor to pay back Eytukanâs kindness. Tell us what you need, and weâll do anything in our power to help you.â
You beg them to raise their heads, embarrassed. âI just want some time with your clan,â you tell them, âlearn your ways with the creatures, how you move within the currents.â If Jakesully out of all people managed to learn the Omatikayaâs ways, you doubt it will be much harder for you. âI⌠Iâve lost contact with Eywa. I hope that learning your clanâs ways will help me in finding it again.âÂ
Arvak has got a pensive look on his face. Then, he says, âTonowari, I know youâre listening. You can come in.âÂ
The man sheepishly enters the marui again, sitting beside you, a little embarrassed. You raise an eyebrow â did he really think either of you didnât hear him? You mightâve not heard him approach when you were in the water, but back with your feet on steady ground, you wouldâve known how to spot him before he was even in your line of sight.Â
Nala squeals and throws herself on his knees, purring. Arvak tries to ignore her to his best abilities. âOur son Tonowari will teach you everything he knows about the reef,â ah, so thatâs why he didnât have any problem waking them up. Nice to know that the Oloâeyktanâs successor has seen your boob. On his part, Tonowari makes no protest. âHer training starts tomorrow. Go show her one of the vacant maruis â sheâll stay here for a while.âÂ
Ryâia is already sleeping when you and Tonowari detach your bags from her saddle, and you try your best not to gape at his biceps as they flex while he takes the heaviest woven baskets out of your hands. âDonât worry, Iâll take thoseâ you must be really tired.âÂ
He balances them on his side and shoulder as he walks you through the maruis â with the few still awake villagers peeking out of their tents to steal a curious look at you â only to stop in an empty one, carefully leaning the baskets down to the floor. You stare at the woven walls of your new home, at the mat on the floor and the little space reserved for the fireplace, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this can work.Â
You set down your bag as Tonowari stands back up from his knelt position, âTry to get some sleep,â he tells you quietly, âIâll come to wake you up tomorrow a little before dawn â itâs when the ilus wake up. If you need anything, thatââ he points to a nearby pod, ââis my marui.â
He stops for a moment and looks at you, sitting on the sleeping mat. âIâm sorry about your father and what happened to your people.âÂ
You press your lips into a thin line. âThanks.â You avert your eyes and wrap your shawl a little tighter around you. âUh⌠goodnight, Tonowari.â
He nods, a sad smile on his lips as he moves outside of the tent, still holding open the curtain serving as door. âGoodnight.âÂ
He closes the blind, and youâre left to your thoughts.Â
Tonowari laughs. âYour swimming form is funny.âÂ
You pout. âIf you're here to poke fun at my survival-level swimming form, Iâm sure Nala would be happy to teach me how to instead.âÂ
His laugh gets even louder, and he raises his hands up. âI said it was funny, not bad! Itâs like⌠watching a child take their first dive out of their motherâs womb.â
âAre you really saying that a kid might swim better than me?â
The son of the Oloâeyktan has at least the decency to stifle his chuckles now. âNo, no, Iâm sure youâll learn soon enough.âÂ
This morning, the villagers were astonished to find out that the chiefs had basically sneaked you into the village overnight â but sure enough, their spirits changed when you started distributing the gifts you had brought for them. The TsahĂŹk seemed pleased with the necklace your mother had made her, claiming it to be of beautiful manufacture, as her people raided your baskets for the shawls and armbands your friends had stitched for them. Yovo fruits were gone in a matter of seconds, and Arvak had to set aside the dried meat you brought to assure that everyone got a piece for dinner.Â
(As for Arvakâs gift, you gave it to him once the crowd dissipated. You told him it was from Toruk Makto, who even after proper Omatikaya training, unfortunately still had to work on his carving abilities. He took the dagger nonetheless, pleased that Toruk Makto himself took time out of his day to make something for him.)
Despite your gifts quietening the protests of your arrival, the villagers still stared a little too hard sometimes â no wonder, theyâve never seen a forest Naâvi before. Most of them are nice or at least cordial to you, but a few doubtful stares still linger as Tonowari tries to do his best in teaching you the ways of the Metkayina.Â
You start spending your mornings â from before dawn up until lunch â with the Oloâeyktan son, learning how to juggle the currents and hold your breath, and your afternoons with the clan elders, weaving baskets and learning how to stitch seashells into body pieces.Â
(The first time you asked if you could help weaving the growing side of the marui pods, they gasped, scandalized. Apparently, itâs strictly the menâs job around here.)Â
After a few days and horrendous tries, you finally manage to finish your first armband â Priya, an old woman wearing the feather chest piece that one of your friends had made, insisted on it. Itâs decorated with a few shells you managed to collect while diving with Tonowari, and as she inspects it closely, she hums, clearly pleased with your work. âIâm sure your mate will be delighted to wear this, one day.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow, surprised. âMy mate?â
The other elders nod convincingly, passing around your work. âIn Awaâatlu, the first piece a girl makes is always a stitched armband," she explains, revealing why she had pressured you so much in starting off with one. âThe mother makes sure to save it, and when the time comes, it will be given to her husband to wear. He, in return, will give her a carved comb, usually decorated with anything that pleases the woman.â
You think about it for a moment, âSo, the first ever piece the men carve is a comb, too?â
The women laugh like the mere thought is hilarious. âOf course not!â Priya hollers, âThe first piece a woman stitches is important because in her life, she will make numerous beautiful works. The men give them the most beautiful comb they make, because itâs already a miracle if they manage to make one singular, decent comb.âÂ
At this, you laugh with them, thinking about that wobbly knife Jake made for their Oloâeyktan. Then, you snort, âThis wasnât my first armband, though,â yes, you had to learn how to properly position shells and have them not fall off the strings, but this isn't your first time stitching.
One of the other women shrugs, âSo what?â She says, âItâs the first one you make here â as a future proper Metkayina â that counts as first.âÂ
Later on that night, back in your marui, you observe the armband and store it inside one of your woven travel bags, hoping that one day, the man you dreamt about will be able to wear it.
Whenever you are free from both weaving lessons and Tonowariâs constant nagging, you delve deep into the forest that the island offers, collecting herbs and fruits. Apparently, the Metkayina have learnt to make the most out of what the sea has to offer, and subsequently rarely explore the forest except for harvesting fruits. The seaside forest is a bit different from what you were used to, but fortunately the plants do not differ that much.Â
The first time you show the TsahĂŹk how you used to make disinfectant salves in the forest, she stares at the concoction like it has just clicked something in her brain. She smells it, tries it on one of the hunterâs light scratches and notes how he doesnât lament any stinging. âWhy donât you come with me and my tsakarems one of these days?â She asks finally. âIâm sure we could teach you something, as well as learn from your⌠peculiar ways.âÂ
The next day, you ask about the tsakarems to Tonowari as he gently hoists you up to an ilu. âHere, when the TsahĂŹk doesnât have a daughter, she takes various apprentices under her wing,â he explains, showing you how to place your feet to avoid falling off of the creatureâs back. âAnd then, either the most talented or the one the future Oloâeyktan chooses becomes TsahĂŹk, while the others go on to become healers.âÂ
You still fall off of the iluâs back, but it doesnât really matter â because Tonawari is there, ready to catch you, and immediately steadies you as you come crashing onto him. Youâll learn, he signs, still underwater. Do not worry, youâll learn.Â
The two of you have grown significantly closer since your arrival, and you try not to notice the way his touch tentatively lingers over your hips as he brings the both of you back to the surface. The two of you stare at each other then, his hands still atop your waist, and just as heâs about to say something, the moment is broken by Nala â and either sheâs obsessed with his biceps at least half as much as you are, or sheâs really just a little, fat bugger. You both laugh as she slobbers all over your face, his hands leaving your body, and you have to convince yourself that youâre not missing his touch to continue the riding lesson.Â
Your weak spots are the signing lessons and the apnea training, mostly because your complete attention on him is needed to actually learn something.Â
The first time he pushes his hand into your belly to show you how to breathe with your stomach, you thought you wouldâve been able to faint right here and there â or swoon, depending on how you see it. And whenever he shows you new signs and their meaning, unfortunately all you can think about is what exactly his fingers can do.Â
After lunch, you join the TsahĂŹk and the tsakarems in their dive for medical algae; a girl named Ronal shows you the best shells to pick to add to plants to make a paste, and the fishes that you have to follow to find a certain type of anemone with incredible healing properties. Sheâs a little ruffled by your presence at the lesson and you can tell, but you donât find it in yourself to judge her; youâre pretty sure that when Jake was learning your ways, you were far more suspicious of him than she is of you.
Weirdly enough, the TsahĂŹk comes looking for you when you donât show up to her lesson the day after. You come to find out that what you thought was a once-and-done offer was meant to be a more permanent position among the tsakarems, and now your evenings are filled with her lessons about spirituality and healing, too.
But the best thing about Awaâatlu is, by far, Eywaâs presence: sheâs everywhere, in the waters you swim into the bonfire Avrak lights when itâs time for dinner, and for the first time in months, you feel safe. Even Ryâia does, and itâs evident in the way she made herself a nest atop one of the highest trees in the forest.
Youâve made friends with the elders and two girls close to your age, Wali and Emâa, and the curious glances that the Metkayina sent you on that first day you spent here are nothing but memories now, as they have seemed to accept you as one of her own.Â
Ironically enough, you start noticing how close Ronal and Tonawari are just now that you know her.Â
Nothing much, but still noticeable, because most of the women in the clan are not close enough to him to be touching him â but she does. And for some reason, a lingering touch on his arm here and two grazing knees there are all it takes to ruin your night.Â
You know itâs stupid â a lot, actually. Youâd already figured that one day, Tonowari will have to choose a beautiful and probably Metkayina woman to mate with to become the TsahĂŹk when his mother wonât be able to be anymore. Ronal is smart, definitely the prettiest tsakarem out of Tsikaâs group, and above all, an established Metkayina in the clan. You, meanwhile, still have to properly mount an ilu, and Eywa forbids a skimwing.
When the fire dies out and itâs time for everyone to go to sleep, you sneak away from your friends to find refuge in that same rocky coast you landed on the night you arrived, and find yourself looking at the stars.
The next morning, after yet another slip down the back of your ilu, youâre ready to pack your bags and go back to wallowing in your pity in the remains of the Hometree, but Tonowari stops you by the tail and drags you back into the water, already hoisting you up the iluâs back again. âCome on,â he encourages you, getting on the saddle right behind you. âMake the bondâ I'll worry about not making you fall.â
Your eye twitches. Just how are you supposed to stay focused on the ilu when you can feel his chest pressing against your back, and his arms basically engulfing your own as he holds onto the saddle? He blinks at your staring, acting oblivious. âWhat?â
By some miracle, you manage to focus on your mount. The iluâs speed causes you to completely lean on Tonowari for support, but he doesnât seem to mind â the opposite, actually. One of his arms wrap around your midriff to keep you more stable, and while underwater you can feel his chin rest on your shoulder, when you rise back to the surface itâs his breath that you can feel on your cheek â and you know for a fact that heâs doing that on purpose, because heâs much taller than you, and he has to be crouching to be almost your height.Â
âSee?â He whispers in your ear. âItâs not so hard.â Well, of course it isnât with him assuring you donât fall. Slowly, you lift your head up to look at him, a brow raised in amusement. âNot with you here, mister.âÂ
Your sultry gaze makes him blush â an absolute hunk of a man who has surely had his fun playing with your closeness up until now, defeated by the batting of eyelashes. Unbelievable. His index finger traces a little pattern over your side, his eyes not leaving yours, âThen Iâll be here for as long as youâll need me.âÂ
Wali and Emâa tease you endlessly about your lessons with Tonowari, and although they are terrible at catching fishes with the nets, whenever the two of you are out in the water theyâre suddenly the most interested in fishing, even if their eyes are directed to anything but their supposed catches. They insist on rebraiding your hair in the Metkayina way when your braids start growing out, picking the prettiest shells and beads they can find to intertwine them in your strands. Considering you ditched your feather tops for their net-and-shell ones a while ago, if it werenât for the colour of your skin and your tail you could probably pass as a reef Naâvi without too much trouble.Â
But the main problem remains â you are not a Metkayina, not in the true sense of the word. And you are reminded of that as you see Ronal drag Tonowari away from the bonfire during dinner.Â
Your mood shifts visibly. You play around with the fruits on your bowl, completely bummed, and Emâa and Wali share a knowing look. âMaybe she just wants to talk to him,â the latter whispers, as her friend nods. âYeah, they butted heads allll the time when we were kids. Iâm sure he just did an ugly marui pod and she wants to point out every single mistake he made with the weaving.â
You huff a bitter laugh, âYeah, because Iâm sure that that kind of stuff requires an immediate discussion.âÂ
You go back to watching the stars atop the rocky coast that night â itâs a habit by now, because even if you feel happy here, you still miss your mother and sister. The thought of the three of you watching the same sky always manages to comfort you. Alas, now itâs helping you overcome how stupid youâre feeling, because you know that Ronal is perfect for Tonowari.Â
Sheâs been a tsakarem for longer than you, has grown up with him, knows how to ride an ilu perfectly and knows the way of the water like the back of her hand. She doesnât come from who-knows-where, where trees grow as tall as the stars and far away from their beloved ocean, doesnât have a useless tail for swimming, and doesnât need to resurface constantly for a breath of air as much as you do. Wanting to be with him is selfish, because youâre fully aware that thereâs already someone perfect for him out there.Â
Still, that doesnât mean it hurts less.Â
The next day you opt to avoid Tonowariâs lessons, staying close to Emâa and Wali to help them stitch a wedding gift for one of the villageâs couples on one of the empty, woven platform just above the water surface. The chiefâs son had looked confused when heâd found you with the women instead of in your marui, but his questioning glance was met with a shrug. âWell, they need this gift done before the end of this week. I wonât be able to ride an ilu properly any time soon, anyways.â
His shoulders sag a bit and he looks like a grounded ikran, but he still nods and goes his way, back to the beach. âWhat?â you ask Emâa when she stares at you, gaping. âHe looked so sad! Why didnât you go with him? Me and Wali couldâve finished this alone!âÂ
You go back to your stitching, fiddling with the strings. Your mind takes you back to the other day â the way his finger traced your skin â and still, a little part of you canât help but wonder how things would be if he didnât like another girl already. âWell, I wouldnât want to intrude between him and Ronal, you know.â Â
Your friends stare at each other, not knowing what to say â itâs not like they can rebuke without knowing what the two of them talked about â or did â last night.Â
You spend the day avoiding Tonowari like they pay you for it, running errands in the forest for the TsahĂŹk and finishing baskets with the elders, and by the time dinner time arrives, you canât evade him anymore without half the clan wondering what happened between you two.Â
Youâre sitting beside Emâa â whoâs arguing with Priya about what shells are best for a chest piece â when someone tugs at your braids as gently as possible. âHey,âÂ
Of course, itâs him. He looks a bit sheepish, a weird leather pouch over his shoulder as he lets your hair go and sits beside you, brushing a fallen braid behind your ear. âI like the way you did your hairâ itâs really pretty.â
Well, if Priya and Emâa werenât listening before, now they definitely are. Itâs a miracle Wali is on cooking duty tonight, because otherwise, youâd have three very nosey listeners instead of two. You blush, âUmâ really?â Damn him and the effect he has on you. One day, heâll be Ronalâs â but you decide that it surely wonât be a problem if you have his attention, just for tonight.Â
He nods, a smile gracing his features. âThe prettiest,â for some reason, it doesnât feel like heâs talking about the braids anymore, but youâre not brave enough to point it out aloud. âYou know, I was thinking that we could try again with the ilus tomorrow. Donât let a few falls discourage you â Iâm sure I fell a lot when I had to learn, too.â
You scoff, swatting him on the arm. âReally? Big, bad Tonowari beaten by a skimpy ilu?âÂ
He rubs the back of his neck, âWell, actually, I donât really remember â I was little â but Iâm pretty sure my bad memory is just because I probably hit my head really hard while falling.âÂ
That manages a laugh out of you â and itâs like he can go back to breathing properly, because he had really thought he had done something that offended you in some way or the other. He was more stressed than he let out this morning, when you refused to come with him to see the ilus.Â
The night goes on and you laugh like you havenât in months. He sure knows how to make great company when he wants to, and his arm â leaned on the sand behind your back â sometimes brushes against your spine, causing pleased goosebumps to etch over your skin. Eywa, you want him to be even closer so bad.Â
And itâs just when he leans down and scoots a little closer, his hand tentatively resting on your back, that you notice her.Â
Ronal is glaring at you from the other side of the bonfire, her arms crossed and her fingers tapping impatiently. The charm wears off â you remind yourself that you canât exactly pretend she doesnât exist for a night, because even if you donât owe her anything, you donât want to cause any rift between her and Tonowari. Itâs not like heâll ever mate with you, anyway.Â
So you gently pull away, trying to ignore his hurt stare as you get up from your previous sitting position. âIâ did I do something? Are youââ
âSorry, I just need a breather,â you disappear into the forest, but not before seeing Ronal stomping angrily towards Tonowari, surely ready to yell at him. Priya and Emâa cast worried glances at your back, but youâre too distraught to actually notice.Â
The rocky coast is quiet in contrast to the continuous chatter of the bonfire, as the sound of the waves is the only thing breaking the silence. You hug your knees close to your chest, staring at the stars, wondering what and how Neytiri is doing right now â cuddled up with Jake, no doubt. Well, if Ronal wasnât so perfect for Tonowari, you think youâd like being cuddled up to him, tooâ
A hand on your shoulder nearly makes you jump out of your bones â were you really so lost in your thoughts that you didnât hear the same man you were just daydreaming about approaching? Embarrassing. If your father were alive, you wouldnât hear the end of it.Â
Tonowari sits beside you again, and you hug your knees just a little closer. âI, um,â he stutters, and you canât believe a man of his size is able to get embarrassed. âToday, when I went hunting outside the reef, I got you something.â He grabs the pouch slinged over his shoulders, opening it to reveal a beautiful conch shell.Â
Youâve never seen one so big â itâs probably the size of your head, if not bigger. The outer shell is iridescent, reacting to the bioluminescence of the waves that crash underneath you, while the inside is streaked in blue and purple. Youâve never seen anything like it, and you gape at the sight. âTonowari, whatâŚâ
âI saw it and it just reminded me of you,â he explains, his cheeks a pleasant indigo. He holds it out for you to take, and if you werenât sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, youâd say his hands were trembling slightly. âAnd so, as it is tradition, I thought I shouldâve gotten it for youâ if you will accept it, that is.â
Youâre too dumbfounded by the seashell to really listen to him. You take it in your hands, tasting the weight of it, admiring its colors and wondering how something so beautiful could have reminded him of you. At last, you find yourself hugging it close to your chest, even if its spikes poke a little into your arm. âThank you, Tonowari,â you say, feeling as full as anyone can be.Â
He perks up, his ears twitching like heâs in disbelief, his tail moving happily in the sand. ââŚReally? You accept it?â
You raise an eyebrow. âWhy wouldnât I?â It's a gift, and you donât plan on giving it back to him anytime soon. Itâs too beautiful to even sit anywhere near his man-cave.Â
The grin he makes takes up his whole face. âOkay. Okay, thatâs great. Fantastic, even.âÂ
Gently, he touches your arm. âSo, how about riding those ilus tomorrow?â
The next morning, you manage to mount an ilu properly â without Tonowari behind you for support, that is. Itâs nothing much, but itâs still a step forward into life in the reef, and from the way your teacher claps and hollers, youâd think youâd tamed an akula.Â
Later that evening, youâre still helping Emâa and Wali with their wedding gift, as well as recounting last nightâs events to their flabbergasted faces. âA conch shell?â Wali asks to confirm, her thread and beads long forgotten.Â
You nod, mimicking the size of the shell with your hands, âYeah, a thing this big,âÂ
Emâa squeals, âNo way! I didnât think he was so straight forward!âÂ
Confused, you ask, âWhat do you mean? He was just being nice,âÂ
They look at each other, gaping, then back at you, âWhat do you mean, he was just beingââ
Theyâre interrupted by someone sitting down next to you without asking permission, and you blanch when you see Ronal. âOhâ oh, um, hi.â
She blinks at you like itâs no big deal, then picks up a spare thread and needle and begins helping you with the netting. âSo, what did Tonowari tell you last night?â
You hesitate. âOh, um, you know â lessons stuff. A few tips on how to balance my weight on the ilus better. Um⌠in aâ friendly way?âÂ
She perks up an eyebrow suspiciously, her ears twitching in annoyance. âLessons stuff, huh?â she repeats, stitching a shell in the most aggressive way youâve ever seen â even Neytiri bad-mouthing Jake never reached these levels of hostility. âIn a friendly way? Is that so?â
You share a panicked glance with your friends, laughing awkwardly. âYes?â It sounds more like a question than a reply, and thatâs probably what tips her over the edge. Her eye twitches, and she doesnât even bother to put the needle and thread where she found them as she rises back up to her feet while grumbling, âIf youâll excuse me,âÂ
âShe didnât even try to be sneaky,â Emâa mutters as soon as sheâs out of hearing range, âwhatâs up with her?â
Your stomach churns, âWell, itâs probably the fact thatââÂ
A loud slap echoes from the village, making the three of you flinch. A second slap ensues. When you look up, you notice that Tonowari is standing on the shore, holding his jaw with his cheeks already turning an ugly purple, and Ronal is marching away, fuming.Â
âŚYeah. You probably shouldnât have accepted that shell thinking that it wouldnât matter if he was going to marry her anyways.Â
You wonder what exactly is between them, but canât find it in yourself to ask him â mostly because you arenât brave enough to tell him that you like him. Emâa and Wali can keep telling you that thereâs nothing between them, but recent events continue to prove them wrong.Â
That night, at dinner, you mostly keep to yourself, deep in your thoughts, and even if Priya tries to drag you out of your misery, itâs all futile. For one reason or another the fruit youâre munching on tastes bitter, and youâre not sure if Tonowariâs absence around the bonfire helps or worsens your mood. Itâs only when Ronal herself pats your shoulder and gestures for the beach that you get out of your haze.Â
She tugs you by your arm down onto the shore, as silent as ever. âListen, Iâm really sorryââ
âDid you do anything you need to apologise for?â she asks, jumping off a rock. You stumble, âIâ well, I know you and Tonowari probablyââÂ
âStupid forest girl,â she huffs, not even looking at you, âthinks I want him like heâs some kind of trophy when heâs stupid like a babyââÂ
âHey! Thatâs not niceââÂ
She tugs you roughly one last time only to let your arm go as you reach where the ocean meets the sand, and you fall down in the water, wetting your â newly made, you must add â loincloth. You groan, rubbing your backside, âOwâ I get that youâre mad, but this seems a little too much to meââ
Ronal points to somewhere behind you, looking tired of you. âGo.âÂ
You blink, confused â and then you turn, only to catch sight of Tonowari, only a few klicks behind, mounting an ilu. He raises a hand to greet you, the smile on his face nervous, and you notice that heâs got that pouch slung over his shoulder again.Â
Hesitant, you turn to Ronal â looking for what, you donât know. She raises an eyebrow expectantly, âWhat are you waiting for? Go.âÂ
Youâre not sure you want to know what kind of game sheâs playing, but something tugs at your tail. Itâs Nala, you come to realize, and sheâs trying to drag you off to Tonowari.Â
You relent, following the zukzuk and mostly letting yourself get carried by the current until youâre in front of him. He gestures his fingers to his forehead as a salute and then holds his hand out to you, âCare for a swim?â
Still hesitant, you look at the ilu, then back at him. âNo baby akulas trying to eat me this time?â
He laughs, âNo, not where weâre going.â
You allow him to hoist you atop the ilu â because even if you're capable of doing it yourself, he always does that â and then climbs up in front of you, holding one hand behind your thigh to keep you steady and the other on the reins. âHold on tight.âÂ
You have to admit that riding at night is beautiful. Other than the moons and stars above you, the only light comes from the bioluminescence, and you remove one hand from his waist to brush the surface of the water, in awe. Nala swims beside you, holding up with the pace with some effort, but still looking very happy to see you and her carer together.Â
Tonowari stops the ilu when floating rocks and boulders â like a miniature-size Hallelujah Mountains â start to appear in the sky. âWhere are we?â
He turns to smile at you. âYou came here for Eywa, didn't you?â he asks, âWell, you could say we're going to visit her.â
He dives and you follow him, still a bit reluctant. He stops to let you catch up to him when he notices that youâre a bit behind him, a hand coming up to hold your smaller one â and suddenly, all of this feels very familiar. The fishes twirling around the two of you, the rocks and algae shimmering, the life you can feel buzzing within the waterâÂ
Tonowari lets go of your hand as you stare all around you, but itâs just to sign something. Come with me, our Spirit Tree is this way. His hand comes up to the small of your back, and if you werenât holding your breath, youâre sure you wouldâve sputtered.Â
If he notices the way youâre staring at him â like you just discovered a whole new person â he doesnât mention it. He just guides you through the swarms of nocturnal fishes until you see it â the Spirit Tree.Â
Never in your life you wouldâve thought that something like that couldâve existed underwater. It looks like itâs made out of dreams, shining upon anything that comes close to it, and Tonowariâs hand slowly leaves your back as you approach it â heâs letting you have some space, you realise.Â
Meeting the ancestors is like going back home â maybe itâs because in the spirit realm the Hometree and all the people that came down with it are alive, or maybe itâs because you didnât do it for a long time. Either way, once you come back from it â you have to, the air in your lungs is starting to feel less and less every second that passes â you come to find out that finally, you feel truly at peace.Â
You swim up to a rock covered in moss to catch your breath, taking a moment to admire your surroundings â youâve swam up to an open cave, it seems, painted and engraved with stories from the start of the Metkayina clan to the new days. Tulkuns, ilus and Naâvi twirl across the stone, set for an endless dance across generations, and you hear the water crinkle beside you.Â
âDo you like it?â
You nod, âItâs beautiful. Our Spirit Tree, back in the forest, doesnât really offer any space for carvings.âÂ
Tonowari nods, looking at the artwork scattered across the walls. âThis is the Cove of the Ancestors. Itâs where we bring the dead to rest, where newborns have their first contact with Eywa and ceremonies are held.â
You hum, already imagining him in full Oloâeyktan attire, his father passing down his spear to him. The man clears his throat. âI⌠I also brought you here for another reason other than the Spirit Tree â Ronal suggested I mightâve wanted to⌠clear things up a bit between us.âÂ
You feel your heart skip a beat. Ah, there it goes. âThereâs nothing to clear up,â you assure him, even if your chest feels like itâs imploding. âItâs okay. I know you have responsibilities â and we both know that Ronalâs the best tsakarem out there.â
He blinks, confused. A beat passes, slowly. Then, âBut I donât want Ronal.â
Oh. Oh.
You stutter, wondering if heâs joking â and from the way heâs looking at you, heâs not. âButâ I thought you two had a thing. She dragged you away from the bonfire the other night â sheâs always so close â she slapped you this morning just because we talked last night.âÂ
Tonowariâs laughter is sincere and without any malice behind it. âWhat? No!â
He removes his pouch from his shoulder, and opens it to reveal another conch shellâ even bigger than the last one. Itâs different, though: this one reminds you of him, all turquoise and light blue accents, and you wonder just how many hours he has spent looking for it. âHere in Awaâatlu, gifting a big conch shell symbolises the start of a courtship,â he explaines â embarrassed, perhaps? âI got so used to having you around that I forgot you werenât born Metkayina, and probably didnât know of the tradition. Honestly, I was too happy you had accepted it to ask myself if you knew about it â and for that, I owe you my apologies.âÂ
You soften visibly, but still hold a little resistance. âBut Ronalââ
âRonal is a friend,â he empathizes the word, âif anything, she sees me as a brother she canât get out of her hair. All this time, sheâs pressured me to make my move on you â before the other skxawngs in the village noticed all your qualities. That day at the bonfire? We kept arguing over what compliments I shouldâve used for your hair.âÂ
You blush, âI kept telling her I shouldâve just told you that you were beautiful â which was true â but she kept insisting for a subtler approach. And when we came back, you werenât there.â
You fiddle with the shells of your chestpiece, âWell, I thought you went to have some alone time with her or something,â you mutter.
Another laugh. âSo, you escaped to watch the stars every time we were a little too close? Iâm flattered that you kept looking at me,âÂ
You push at his arm, âThen why did she slap you this morning? Your cheeks are still swollen, by the way.â
He snorts, âOuli â the ceremonial tattooer â gave her a conch shell a week ago, and she has accepted it. She canât wait to be absolved from tsakaremâs duties, but they canât step down until the TsahĂŹk â and the future chief â choose who, one day, will guide the people spiritually.â Two of his fingers come up to your chin, holding your head up to stare into your eyes softly, âShe was waiting for me to choose you. I told her Iâd propose the shell to you yesterday, and then she found out that apparently, you saw it as a friendly talk. Needless to say, she was pissed.â
âButâ Iâm not even fully trained yet. Sheâs better atââ
He shakes his head, âI donât care what sheâs better at â I know youâll learn everything about our ways, eventually. Youâve already proven yourself worthy enough.â he raises the shell again, his hand moving up to your cheek. âSo, what do you say if we try this once more? I found another shell just to ask you again.âÂ
You take the shell in your hands, admiring it for a moment before throwing all your self-control out of the picture, jumping in his arms so abruptly that he falls down on his backside. The kiss is mind-shattering, his hug is everything you imagined it would be, and his body is just as warm as it was in the dream where you saw him for the first time.Â
The funniest thing is that once you pull away, you both are gasping for air â something youâve never seen him do, even after diving sessions that seemed to be hours long. Tightening the hold of your arms around his neck, you press your chests even closer, your noses brushing. âIs this the answer you wanted?â
He huffs a chuckle, his eyes already looking down at your lips again, âI donât knowâ seemed a bit too friendly to me. But maybe, if you do that again, say, three or four times more, I might grasp the concept fullyâŚâÂ
Youâre pretty sure the two of you couldâve stayed there kissing all night â and maybe even more than that, with the way you could feel him pressing against your crotch â if it wasnât for Nala, who, by the time you went back for seconds for the fourth time, already had enough and positively jumped over the two of you, breaking the sweet moment with barks and flaps of her tail.Â
That doesnât stop you from sharing quick, frenzy kisses whenever sheâs not looking, as by the time Tonowari accompanies you back to your marui, your lips still feel swollen and are surely flushed. âIâll see you tomorrow?â he asks you, pressing one last peck to your cheek. You nod, giving his hand one last squeeze, ââCourse,â
You decide to take things slowly â you still donât know the Metkayinaâs ways to their full extent, after all. The next few months are made of exhausting training, as now youâre the only tsakarem and still have to pass your iknimaya, and you donât want to let anyone down. You know the expectations that everyone has about the TsahĂŹk, and you surely have no intention to make Tonowari look bad as Oloâeyktan when the time comes.Â
And about him, he surely makes the intensive training easier.Â
Everytime he notices that youâre a little too stressed he makes sure to bring you a trinket from his hunts â let it be a weird rock that looks like a heart or a basket full of shells you can make your chest coverings with. He finds flowers to put in your hair during meal times, and just swings you over his shoulder like a pouch full of water when he decides that youâre overworking yourself a tad bit too much, dragging you to his marui for a well-deserved nap.
The day of your iknimaya marks your formal entry in the clan â one who later on becomes even more real thanks to your mating ceremony.Â
Itâs a quiet affair â quieter than it is usual for the son of the chief â but neither of you resent the lack of festivities or celebration, because the most important thing is that you are now mated for life. Per Metkayina tradition, you rebraid each otherâs kuru braids, picking beads and shells perfect for each other just for the occasion, and when the time to exchange your wedding gifts comes, you think back to Priyaâs words and wonder just who she married â because the comb Tonowari carved out of coral is nothing short of stunning.Â
âIâve never been to your forest,â he tells you as you brush the swirls of the flowers and trees etched along the smooth side, âbut Iâve tried imagining it so many times, I can only hope I brought it justice.â It may not be completely accurate to the forest, but the thought he put into it is more than appreciated nonetheless. In exchange, he wears your armband like itâs a badge of honor, even if itâs a little too tight on his bicep. (Not that youâre complaining â the sight is scrumptious, and you canât believe you get to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.)Â
You quickly settle in the marui Tonowari built with his father in the months of courting, and after a few months of blissful marriage, you donât even notice when your belly starts to grow.Â
You just assumed you were getting a little too comfortable in your new life with him and maybe put on a bit of weight â after all, the Metkayina are much softer than the Omatikaya, so maybe your bodyâs just adapting to the environment. You think so, until Tonowari points it out.Â
One morning, as heâs tying his braids back, he stops to look at you â still lying half-asleep on the mat you share, barely awake yet. He crouches to stare weirdly at your belly, then pokes at your bellybutton like heâs trying to study a new species of fish. âOeyä TanhĂŹ,â he starts â my star, a nickname he has taken a liking to calling you since your wedding.Â
You hum non-committedly. âYes, Ma Wari?âÂ
He keeps poking at your stomach, and keeps doing so even when you try to swat his hand away. âStop it, Tonowari, it tickles.â
He kisses your cheek, and continues doing so all the way to your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face as he leans his cheek over the top of your head. His chuckle is full of disbelief as he whispers, âMy love, I think youâre with child. Your belly is rounder and stiff.â
A moment passes. Then, âAre you calling me fat first thing in the morning, Tonowari?âÂ
A terrifying silence and a visit to Tsika later, itâs confirmed â you are pregnant, already four months along. Youâre confused, mostly because your people donât show up until five months, but one look at your hunk of a husband is all it takes to explain your questions.Â
Your second tattoo is to celebrate the pregnancy. While the first was above your eyebrow and went down to your cheek, this one cups the upper part of your belly and continues to your sides, still leaving some space for eventual other tattoos on your lower belly and hips.Â
At night, you sit on the step going onto the ocean of your marui, letting your feet float in the water as Tonowari sits on a banked canoe below, rubbing ointment on your freshly-done tattoo. âThe arch symbolises the first pregnancy,â he mumbles softly, âthe sides, protection for the firstborn. If another pregnancy occurs, a piece will be added here,â he brushes against the empty, rounded sides of your belly, âfor protection of the second born, and then one for the third, and so on.âÂ
You laugh, playing with one of his braids. âI think youâre getting too full of yourself, misterâ let me give birth to this one before talking about other children, will you?âÂ
He rests his head in your lap, almost purring when you start tracing lines over his face and scalp, âAnd when the child is born,â he adds, a hand still over your stomach, âthe father gets a tattoo over the heart, one that turns into a spiral as more children come.âÂ
A hum, âMaybe we should start thinking about names first, Ma Wari.âÂ
The agreement is, he chooses the name if itâs a boy, you choose if itâs a girl. He picks the name Aonung; you opt for Tsireya.Â
His fatherâs illness comes as a bitter surprise to all.Â
It starts with a cough, then heâs getting groggy when he moves a little too much, until no remedies the TsahĂŹk, you or the healers try to use work, as he lies bedridden in the marui him and his wife have shared for decades.Â
Tonowari is understandingly broken up about it â the man who he grew up idolizing, who offered you a refuge in your grief, who helped him build the marui where youâll be raising your child and every other one that might come after them. He wonât be meeting his grandchild, and even if Arvak insists for you to sleep properly in your own pod for the wellness of the baby, youâre not going to leave him or your husband alone in this difficult time.Â
You and your mate spend every night by his side as Tsika prays and chants for Eywa, not getting a blink of sleep herself, until the inevitable comes, and Arvakâs hand finally goes limp in hers.Â
The period of mourning doesnât seem like nearly enough for Tonowari to handle his grief â he spends every night curled up into you, resting his head on your lap, trying to find comfort in you and his unborn child. Heâs so big that if the situation was a little different, you wouldâve laughed; instead, you just hold him close and sing him to sleep.Â
But life doesnât stop for grief, and you know that well. Soon, heâs named Oloâeyktan and you TsahĂŹk, Tsika stepping down from her position with tears in her eyes as she gives you her headpiece.Â
Time in the village goes fast â people to heal, ceremonies to make, salves to concoct and prayers to hear. Months pass and your belly starts feeling impossibly big, so much so that the kids of the clan start following you everywhere to help their increasingly more tired TsahĂŹk. Tonowari always laughs when he sees them, going on about how Nala now has competition for the place in your heart reserved for children and animals, and the otterfin herself brings you a gift everyday â let it be a polished rock she found while swimming or a type of seaweed she thinks to be delicious.Â
The contractions start at night. You toss and turn in pain but try to avoid waking up Tonowari, just in case itâs a false alarm like the ones you had in the last three days. Itâs only when he nudges you with a gentle hand â hair still mussed a bit with sleep â and tells you that the mat is wet that you understand that your child is coming.Â
Tsika and Ronal â now one of the best healers in the village and happily mated to Ouli â donât spare any minute after your husband calls for them, and immediately have him carry you â now almost delirious with pain â to the birthing pond, where the water is warm and Eywaâs presence strong. The sigh you let out when your husband gently positions you against the rocky wall of it is one of pure bliss, and your clammy skin now surely doesnât give you any problem.Â
Aonung is born hours later at dawn, resurfacing out of the water by himself like tradition, crying out for his father to take him. Tonowari takes one good look at him, hears his strong wails and immediately passes him to your tired, waiting arms, âA boy,â he says breathlessly, brushing your braids out of your face, âa healthy, strong boy.â He presses his lips to your forehead, a tear slipping down his cheek, âThank you, Oeyä TanhĂŹ, thank you.âÂ
âAonung,â you call out sobbing, as the babe stops his crying and latches onto your breast. âHi, my sweet, hi,â heâs a little bigger than Omatikaya babies, but you love him nonetheless. He nestles over your chest as soon as heâs done feeding, and chooses that thatâs now his favourite place to be.Â
In the next few weeks, your son reveals himself to be a real mamaâs boy. During the day, he stays curled up in your chest in the netted wrap that Emâa and Wali had made for you, and Eywa forbid Tonowari tries to help you by taking him â because he will cry until his ears beg for mercy, only to go back to being an angel as soon as he passes him back to you.Â
The children coo and poke at him when you bring him to meet them, and one of the older ones jokes about how he looks just like your husband, but can only stand you. You laugh at that, because it is true â Aonung is his fatherâs copy, and maybe thatâs why he likes you so much.Â
Itâs only when he reaches three months of age that you gather enough courage to ask Tonowari to visit the forest â not because youâre afraid heâll say no, but because youâre not sure if youâre ready for it. Itâs been almost two years since you left now, and while you arenât exactly ready to see the remains of the fallen Hometree again, you want Aonung to meet his grandmother and aunt, and your husband to see where you grew up.Â
Of course, the latter could never deny you anything, and a week later you get on Ryâia with him behind you and set sail for the forest of the Omatikaya. The village is left to Tsikaâs hands, and Aonung babbles happily against your chest as he flies for the first time in his life.Â
The village is in the same place it was two years ago â itâs just grown a lot since then, marui pods where the branches once werenât even steady enough â and you laugh when Ryâia leaves you immediately to go back to the ikransâ nest, ready to meet her old friends no doubt. You keep one hand over Aonungâs small back and the other in Tonowariâs palm, guiding him through the branches and groves as he stumbles many times.Â
You laugh, âHow does the forest feel, reef boy?âÂ
He pales as he stares down the branch youâre standing on, wondering just how many people die here from falling down into the void. âDangerous, my love.â
Neytiri screams when she first sees you â alerting all the other villagers about your arrival. She runs to hug you tight, not even noticing your son nestled between you two or the reef Naâvi awkwardly standing behind you until you pull back, a soft smile on your lips. âSister, itâs been so longââ
You laugh, nodding. âIt has been, sister. I wanted to introduce you to Tonowariââ the man salutes her with his fingers going to his forehead and then gesturing towards her as you take Aonung out of his wrap and into your arms, âand little Aonung.âÂ
You donât notice the way her face falls instantly. Your boy coos at her, gesturing his fat little arms towards her, and the moment is interrupted by Moâat, far more pleased than her elder daughter at the turn of events. When your sister takes her nephew in her arms and your mother hugs you, she stares at his turquoise skin, larger tail and wide forearms with worry, âHeâll never be able to move fully in the forest with these,âÂ
You chuckle, still in your motherâs embrace, âA good thing we live in the reef then, no?â
Her eyes skim over your sturdier arms, the tattoos over your body and the seashells braided into your hairâ and before you know it, she leaves Aonung in Jakeâs arms and storms off.
Being back home is nice â because while Awaâatlu became your home in the last two years, here in the forest still live your friends and family, and itâs where you grew up. Your mother spoils Aonung rotten and watches him as you go hunting on your ikran with Ninat and Peyral, while Jakesully â upon Tonowariâs insistence â tries to show him the way of the forest. Your friends chuckle every time they catch sight of your husband, asking if every Naâvi in the reef is as big as him, and if you know any Metkayina men willing to marry in the Omatikaya.Â
Neytiri, who you found out to be pregnant the day you arrived, mostly stays by herself, pondering, and whenever you ask if she wants to do anything with you she refuses, lamenting nausea or other pains.Â
You talk to Moâat about it, worried, but she just gives you a weird look. âSheâs grieving, child.â
Your eyebrows rise up to your hairline, âWhat do you mean, grieving? Who died?â
âShe thought you were still traveling,â she whispers, caressing Aonungâs curls while he munches on the beads of your braids, âand that once you were ready, you wouldâve come back to living here. Seeing you with a mate and a son⌠it broke her heart, because now she knows youâre not coming back.âÂ
You think back to all the times you two talked about how your children would grow up together, being best friends and close just like you did â and your heart breaks a little, too, because in all of this, you hadnât considered how she would take the fact of you never fully returning to the forest.Â
That night, you leave Aonung with Tonowari â as your son has finally started to appreciate his father a little, too â and go looking for Neytiri at the Tree of Souls, knowing that at this hour, she usually prays and chants her songcord.Â
She stops when she hears you approach, her ears perking up. You smile softly, âI thought we could pray togetherâ like the old days?â When your father was still alive, your sister still arranged to Tsuâtey, and the both of you were less complicated. When she could still become TsahĂŹk, and you had no reason to.Â
She scoffs a little, âLike the old days,â she mutters, âam I supposed to pretend that you didnât turn your back on me?â
You grimace, taking a seat next to her, âTiriâŚâ
âDonât âTiriâ me,â she hisses, âyou have no rightâ I was waiting for you. Waiting for you to come backââ her voice cracks â pregnancy emotions; you know them too well. âFor you to come back here and marry one of our men like our ancestors did for centuries. Instead, you marry a reef Naâvi andâ and move Eywa knows how far from here without saying anythingââ
She breaks down, and you shush her gently, cradling her head on your shoulder. This feels familiar, because when you were kids, she was usually the one comforting you. âWhy did it have to be the Oloâeyktan?â she cries, her tears wetting your skin, âCouldnât you find someone less important â someone you could come here to live with?â
You shake your head, pressing your cheek on the crown of her hair for comfort, âI didnât choose him, Tiri,â you say softly, âI fell in love. Thatâs not something one controls, and you, out of all people, should know that.â
Still in denial, she sobs harder, âWhat will it be of our kids?â she asks, pressing a hand over her slightly swollen belly, âWill they grow up as strangers, like theyâll be to our father and sister? Will they look at their aunt and wonder if sheâs an outsider?â
âNever, sister, never,â you hush, âweâll visit â you and Jake can visit, too.â
As her cries die down, she asks, âDoes the thought of living here still scare you so much?â
And for that, to your horror, you donât find an answer.Â
Tsireya comes a little over a year after her brother, and this time, she looks like you. She still has her fatherâs Metkayina features â the tail, her forearms â but one good look at her face, and it doesnât take a TsahĂŹk to guess that sheâs your daughter. Ironically enough, she prefers her father's chest over yours â unless weâre talking about feeding time, because, letâs be real, Tonowari will never be able to beat you at that for obvious reasons.Â
Aonung has started to waddle a while ago, and has been restless since. He goes from your marui to his grandmotherâs, visiting Ronal and Emâa on the way, falling at least twelve times in the meantime. He loves swimming with you and his father, constantly bugs his sister when sheâs stealing the milk that heâs convinced should be his, and plays with Nala on the shore when the zukzuk starts following him around.Â
Heâs a sweet boy who brings you flowers and pieces of fruit when he notices the smallest frown on your face, and loves cuddles from mom and dad before and after going to sleep. And even if heâs a little mean to his sister sometimes, you know he loves her very much from the way he begs you to let her swim with him or wants to share his food with her.Â
You visit Neytiri a few more times, but the visits slowly come to an end when you realize that she has no intention of ever coming to the reef to see the life youâve built here. While Moâat visits frequently, bringing the children gifts and swarming them with affection, your older sister seems to have accepted the fact that in her eyes, youâll never be truly close again.Â
You accept the notion with far more ease than you could have ever imagined â because you have a family now, and people that look up to you for guidance. If Neytiri doesnât want to see that, itâs okay; youâll never manage to love her any less for it.Â
The kids grow quicker than you realize, because soon, Tsireya is waddling behind Aonung too, and the excruciating process of weaning her off starts.Â
Her brother had been even more difficult, so youâre actually quite relieved to see that she at least does not cry herself to exhaustion every night like he did. But every time she lets out the smallest whimper, you find Tonowariâs big eyes boring into yours, with that look that says, we could resolve the problem by just having another baby. You always glare at him when he suggests that, because two kids under three already feel like more than enough now, and you have no intention of having another one so soon.Â
But as she often does, Eywa has a different plan for you.Â
Tonowari hurriedly wakes you up one night as youâre resting on the sleeping mat, nearly asleep as the kids quietly snore beside you. Heâd been out all evening to help his mother with some herbs while you watched the children, so youâre worried to find him so distraught. âOne of the Taâunuiâs women died in birth,â he whispers, careful not to wake up Aonung or Tsireya, âthey need to feed him, but none of the women in their village is nursing. Could youâŚ?â
He doesnât even have to ask, really, because five minutes later youâre sitting in the TsahĂŹkâs tent, nursing little Rotxo while the Taâunui Oloâeyktan shares worried whispers with Tonowari. The newborn is a little chunkier than Aonung and Tsireya were, but that just means that his mom, while she could, took good care of him.Â
âHeâs an orphan,â you hear the chief say, âhis dad died a little while ago on a hunt, and heâs only got his grandmother now â but frankly, sheâs old, and I doubt sheâll be able to take care of him for longâŚâÂ
The solution seems clear in your eyes, and after talking to Rotxoâs grandmother about her new place in the Metkayina village, you introduce Aonung and Tsireya to their new little brother. They donât ask why you didnât have a big belly like the other pregnant women in the village, or why his skin isnât a little bluer like theirs, and instead take to him instantly, putting shared efforts to find nice shells and smooth little rocks to put in the woven crib where he naps.Â
Everyday, you bring him to his grandmother so that she can have a piece of her daughter back with her, and slowly, she takes a liking to your children as well. They start calling her grandma like they do to Tsika and Moâat, and you donât miss the way she seems to be rejuvenated by being around such lively children.Â
âNo more kids, huh?â Tonowari teases you gently one evening, the sun fading into the horizon, as you breastfeed little Rotxo while watching Aonung and Tsireya play with ilu cubs in the water.Â
You swat his arm, so tired but so full of love. âOh, shut up, Tonowari. The next kid we have, weâll have in at least ten years.âÂ
He raises an eyebrow, amused, âOh? So, we will have another kid?âÂ
You blush â incredible how after having two of his kids and being bare for him so many times, he still manages to get a reaction out of you. âMaybe.â Â
He hums, an arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. âYeah? And what do you want to call them, if itâs a girl?â
You look down to little Rotxo, his hand opening and closing around the curve of your breast, his chunky belly pressing against your ribs. Itâs ridiculous â the way Tonowari can get you to think about another baby while already having three small children.Â
Summary: It is said, that the brothers had learned to hunt side by side before they had even learned to speak. Together, they were an unstoppable force. A dangerous duo. And right now, their entire focus was on their most recent prey: You.
Warnings: explicit smut, clan swap au, non-con, kidnapping, mmf threesome, body modifications, sex slaves, p in v, oral (f&m receiving), praise kink, possessiveness, abuse of power, power imbalance, teasing, sexual tension, frenum ladder piercing, tongue piercing, prinz albert piercing, consumption of bodily fluids (blood, cum, spit), creampie, pet play, dom/sub, biting, marking
All naâvi know their story. Of the time when the Omatikayaâs song was silenced.
When the fire came from the mountains and burned what was left of their forest, burned even their last tree of souls and left them with nothing but the ash of grief and the fire of hatred, the Omatikaya had chosen to leave the life theyâve known behind.
They say, the great mother did not hear their crying when the sky-people came to destroy their home. And she closed her eyes when rivers of fire poured through the valleys, burned down their last sanctuary and with it, all the hope that was left. And most importantly, their faith.
The Omatikaya were once proud people, respecting the balance of life and Eywas will. But that was many songs ago.
Now, all naâvi know their story. They know of their suffering, their pain and their loss. And they know what this had made them become. That Toruk Makto had lead them through these difficult times, whilst their tsahĂŹk spoke words no one had sung before.
She taught the people that Eywa had turned her back on them. That the Great Motherâs silence was not a trial, but a judgment. She would not come to help. She would not come to provide. Not anymore.
But the Omatikaya were not weak. Much like wood to an open flame, their hatred only made them grow stronger.
Soon, the old laws were reshaped, the balance bent until it cracked. They learned to live where nothing else grew. They took from the land of others, took from the people, took more than they could hold in their greedy hands and feed their never ending hunger. Hatred, once a warning emotion, quickly became a weapon. So the Omatikaya endured, but they were no longer what they had been.
They were feared where they had once been welcomed. Remembered where they had once been loved.
And what had once been a peaceful clan, had now become a warning to all.
You remember the stories as they were told to you, quietly, at the edge of the fire, always after the children had been sent away. These were stories meant to teach caution, to strengthen your own faith, like a reminder of what could happen if one were to disrupt the balance and violate eywas rules.
The air reeks of smoke, blood and old ash. The ground beneath you is hard and lifeless, as if even the earth has learned not to come here.
Your mother, the tsahĂŹk, and your father, oloâeyktan of your clan, had been dragged away into Neytiris tent many hours ago and had not returned since then. Worry was gnawing at your very existence as you continue to tug and writhe against the rope binding your hands and feet together, pinning you to a charred down tree. But itâs useless. Aside from the horrible pain of your wrists and ankles being scrubbed raw by the rope, these knots did not budge.
Further away, the people of the Omatikaya moved in hectic, rhythmic circles around a towering fire. Its flames are fed too well, burning bright and hungry, casting warped shadows across their painted bodies. This is not a dance of thanks or mourning. It is a dance of ownership, of victory.
Neytiri, the tsahĂŹk, stands closest to the fire, her silhouette sharp against the flames. Around her neck and wrists hang severed kurus, their tendrils dried and darkened, strung together like trophies.
Your throat tightens and you force yourself to look away. Among your people, to sever a kuru is unthinkable. It is worse than death. And yet they celebrate her, dance around the fire, around the blades she circles in the air. Itâs hypnotizing.
Toruk Makto sits apart from the rest, close enough to the fire that its light glints off the metal weapon resting across his knees. You were taught never to touch such things, never to let their poison seep into your hands, your thoughts or your spirit. Metal was forbidden, it was one of Eywas rules. The first and most important one.
And yet, Jakesuli holds them as if they are part of him.
His posture is calm, assured. This is not a leader burdened by duty, but one who has long accepted what he has become. The great shadow of Torukâs wings loom behind him, his skin scarred from battle.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you let your head fall forward until your chin rests against your chest and your braids slip forward to hide your face.
"Eywa ngahu, kĂŹyevame srak nĂŹâaw, slä oe tsun tivĂŹran san oe lu⌠[Eywa be with me, even if you are silent, for my song still knows your nameâŚ]," Your voice trembles when you begin to sing, thin and hoarse from smoke and fear, but it does not break.
You sing on, letting the words trail into one another, softer now, the prayer dissolving into breath as tears swell behind your closed eyes. They spill anyway, tracking down your cheeks and dripping from your chin onto the hard ground below.
Youâre so lost in your prayer, that you donât even realize that you are not alone anymore, until a low, dark chuckle cuts through your voice, silencing you.
"Ah, look brother. A little birdy is singing a song for us."
Your breath catches sharply and you gasp and jerk your head up, braids falling back to reveal your face. Two figures stand before you, one of them tilts his head, studying you with open curiosity. The other smiles, slow and sharp.
"What is it?" the first asks, his voice smooth with amusement as he steps closer. "Are we not the ones you expected to answer your call?"
"Is your song not ours?" The other one continues, mockingly gentle as he crouches until his eyes are level with yours, tilting your head up with his thumb and finger pinching your chin. "You sang it so sweetly. We thought perhaps it was meant for us."
Anger boils hot beneath your skin at his touch. Before fear can stop you, you bare your teeth and snap at his fingers, jaws closing on empty air as he jerks his hand back just in time.
For a heartbeat, there is only the crackle of the fire and loud drums in the distance that sound so far away.
Then he blinks slowly, before he laughs loud enough to make you flinch.
"Oh, look at that!" He says, grinning sharply and his eyes bright with delight. "This one has fire." His laughter is genuine, almost pleased.
"Fire indeed," The other one behind him chuckles, low and approving.
Your heart hammers against your ribs. You draw back as far as the bindings allow, bark pressing painfully into your shoulders, and swallow hard.
"W-Who are you?" you demand, forcing the words past the tightness in your throat. "What do you want?"
The taller one straightens, folding his arms over his chest with an unsettling calm. In the firelight, you can see the markings of an Omatikaya warrior etched into his skin, newer scars layered over old ones, pieces of sharpened bone pieced through his skin, worn like decorations under red paint and black coal.
"Our mother has allowed us to look at our latest prisoners," he explains evenly, as if this was something casual to them. "Before they are sacrificed."
Your stomach drops.
"The others wereâŚ" He pauses, searching for the right word, then shrugs. "Less interesting. Nothing worth our attention."
The crouched warriorâs grin widens as his gaze drags over you, lingering far too long. "But youâŚ," he says softly, voice lowering.
Heâs purposefully not finishing that sentence, trying to make you uncomfortable, but to you it matters little anyways. Youâre too occupied with thinking about what the other one had said earlier.
Mother? But that meansâŚ
Your eyes widened as you realized that these two werenât just anyone. These were not just any warriors of the Omatikaya. They are the sons of Toruk Makto and their gruesome tsahĂŹk. Feared warriors among their clan, brutal and cruel.
Youâve heard of them before.
The elder one is Neteyam. Itâs been told, he is as skilled with the bow as his mother. He builds his arrows himself. The heads are carved to break bone and split muscle, dipped into poison to make survival impossible. He knows exactly where to place them so the most damage can be done with a single, precise release. And he could hit a target from any distance, moving through the forest without a sound. Neteyam does not waste shots, he does not miss and he does not need to watch the body fall. You are dead, the moment he aims at you.
The people say, the Sullys eldest hunts palulukan for fun, not for food or glory, but because he can. They say that the great apex predator of the forest, the one even seasoned hunters avoid, knows his scent and turns away from it.
Loâak, the younger brother, is another thing entirely.
Youâve heard that he dips his knife in poison too, not ultimately to kill, but to paralyze you. Everyone knew, that Loâak took enjoyment from playing with his prey.
But even from a distance, he was just as deadly as his brother. He had been trained by his father in wielding sky peopleâs weapons from a very young age, metal pressed into his hands as if it were just another toy for a child.
Apparently, he could name a gun without ever seeing it, just from the sound it made when itâs fired. They say he could take one apart blind, fingers moving from memory alone, and then put it back together again without ever opening his eyes.
Itâs said, the brothers have learned to hunt side by side before they had even learned to speak.
Where Neteyam ended things with scary precision, Loâak made the pain last. One controls, the other destroys. And they donât need to look at each other to know what the other is about to do.
Together, they were an unstoppable force. A dangerous duo.
And right now, their entire focus was on you.
"Look at her," Loâak calls to his brother. He grins, sharp and pleased, and reaches out again to cup your face and trail a thumb along your cheek. His touch is warm and possessive. "Sheâs so pretty, isnât she?"
Your breath stutters at his words. Your entire body goes rigid, every instinct screaming at you to pull away, but there is nowhere to go.
"She is," Neteyam agrees softly.
That, somehow, is worse. His voice carries no hunger, no excitement, only quiet certainty, as though he is merely stating a fact.
"I want to play with her first." Loâak whispers, licking his lips. He talks about you as if you arenât even really here.
Play? Your eyes widen before you can stop them. Horror flashes across your face as you make up all possible scenarios of what his words could indicate in your head, which the brothers notice immediately.
They chuckle, low, amused sounds shared between them like a private joke. Loâakâs grin deepens, clearly delighted by your reaction, while Neteyam watches you with an unreadable expression, head tilted slightly, as if committing the moment to memory.
Then Neteyam steps forward. He places a hand on his brotherâs shoulder and when Loâak glances up at him, he nods once toward the fire. No words. None needed.
Loâak clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes like a sulking child denied a toy, but thereâs no real resistance in him. He pulls his hand back from your face at last and straightens to his full height.
Before turning away and following Neteyam, he looks at you one more time and winks.
Then, their silhouettes melt back into the firelight, swallowed by shadows, and youâre left staring at the empty space in front of you, heart still pounding hard enough to hurt.
For a brief, fragile moment, you let yourself believe that this was it. That they were just trying to scare you.
Later, when the fire outside has burned down to something lower and steadier, exhaustion finally begins to win.
Your head dips forward once, twice. But each time you jolt awake, forcing your eyes open again. You do not trust sleep here. Still, your body betrays you, muscles trembling from the long strain of fear. You are just slipping again, just for a breath, until you hear footsteps approach.
Immediately, you snap awake.
Two warriors stand in front of you, but not the same brothers from earlier. These ones are much older, their limbs thinner due to the lack of human genes in their blood, heads shaved bare and marked with thick scars that run over scalp and jaw alike. Their faces are hard and unreadable, eyes dull in a way that tells you they did not come to you on their own. Someone had send them.
Your pulse spikes.
Before you can speak, one of them reaches for the bindings at your wrists. Your breath comes fast and shallow as rough fingers work the knots loose. Hands roughly close around your upper arms and haul you to your feet.
You stumble, legs weak, barely able to keep pace as they pull you forward.
No one speaks and you do not dare ask what is happening.
They lead you through the camp, past dying fires and smaller tents. The night is silent, safe for the sound of feet on the dry ground. At the far edge of the clearing stands a tent larger than the rest, looming in the dark.
Your steps slow despite yourself.
Skulls hang from its entrance, some small, some far too large to belong to any Naâvi. Giant teeth are lashed together with sinew, forming crude arches above the doorway. Feathers, bones, bits of metal, decorations pulled straight from a nightmare sway softly in the night breeze, clicking faintly against one another.
The warriors at your side do not hesitate. They roughly shove you inside, past the animal hide that marks the entrance.
You stumble forward, barely catching yourself before falling, and then the flap drops shut behind you.
The first thing you notice is that the tent is warm. Outside, goosebumps had raised on your arms from the cold night air.
But inside, a small fire burns low at its center, casting a soft, flickering glow over furs spread thick across the ground. Theyâre dyed deep red and black, layered carefully. For a moment, the contrast is disorienting. It almost looks⌠cozy.
Then you notice the rest.
Skulls arranged along the walls, staring with empty eyes. Bones carved and painted, strung together in careful patterns. Metal chains hang from the high ceiling, catching the firelight when they sway, heavy and cold looking. There is no part of the space untouched by something taken from death.
Your stomach twists.
You take a hesitant step further inside, bare feet sinking into the furs. The tent is silent except for the crackle of the fire and you come to realize that you are alone.
Not for long, though.
The animal hides at the entrance rustle softly, then part, and two figures step inside.
Neteyam enters first.
Firelight rolls over him, catching on the broad plane of his chest, painted deep red. Streaks of grey ash follow the hard lines of his body. His loincloth hangs low on his hips, woven with painstaking precision, the patterns tight and symmetrical to match those of his cummerbund. Everything about him looks intentional and controlled.
His ears twitch and his tail flicks the moment he sees you.
Your eyes immediately catch on the marks littered across his body, bone and carved ornaments lining his torso and arms, heavy but balanced. From one earlobe hangs a thin metal chain, dark feathers threaded through it. It sways gently as he moves, brushing against his braids that are adorned with bones too. His gaze settles on you without surprise, as if he had been expecting this moment.
Loâak slips in behind him and the contrast is immediate.
The sides of his head are shaved clean, the rest of his braids pulled back into a low ponytail that is decorated with spines. Two loose braids frame his face, beads carved from bone and bullets clicking softly as he walks. His skin is painted much like his brotherâs, red and ash, but where Neteyamâs markings feel ceremonial, Loâakâs look careless, almost playful, as if he smeared them on without patience.
Your eyes begin to wander despite yourself.
One of his ears is chipped, but both are lined with piercings too. But theyâre are not bone. His are made of steel. You could tell by the way they reflect the firelight. Across his chest hangs a belt of bullets, resting against painted skin, and you wonder if these are part of his decorations too or if these are there to be used.
Your gaze flicks back to Neteyam, who walks with his chin lifted, shoulders squared. He looks like a man meant to be honored and feared.
Loâak sways as he follows, grin already pulling at his mouth, eyes bright with amusement, as if this is all just a joke, and a good one at that.
Fear claws its way up your spine.
You retreat instinctively, backing up as far as the tent allows until your calves hit the furs piled near the wall. Your heart hammers, breath coming quick and shallow, eyes darting between them as they move farther inside.
"Welcome, txeptsyip [little flame]," Neteyam says, as though this is a meeting long overdue.
His voice is calm. Pleasant, even. He folds his arms across his chest, rolls his shoulders once as if settling into himself and then looks at you with open interest. You canât help but shiver as his eyes roll over you body before he holds your stare with warm intensity.
Loâak, on the other hand, moves immediately.
He takes two long, quick step toward you, too fast and too close. You flinch, but Neteyamâs hand comes out just as quickly, pressing flat against his brotherâs chest. It stops him cold.
Loâak clicks his tongue, irritation flashing across his face as he stares back up at Neteyam. He leans back a fraction, shoulders loose, posture anything but obedient, but ultimately stays where he is. When your eyes finally meet his, the scowl melts into a slow, knowing smirk.
"What do you want from me?" you ask immediately, forcing the words out before your courage could fail you.
Neteyamâs gaze sharpens, just slightly. "Weâve come to propose a deal, txeptsyip. [little flame]"
Your brows furrow. "A⌠deal?"
Loâak laughs under his breath, rocking back on his heels like heâs enjoying this far too much, while Neteyam continues, "You have two paths ahead of you."
He lifts one finger.
"You will be sacrificed, like the rest of your clan. No one will mourn or even remember you, and your kuru will adorn my mothers necklace like all the others before you."
You swallow thickly. Then, he lifts a second finger.
"Or," he says evenly, "you can live."
Loâakâs grin widens as he adds, "with us."
Your chest tightens as understanding sinks in, and itâs almost nauseating.
"You mean like a prisoner or⌠a slave," you say quietly, already shaking your head.
Fear trembles through you, yet your hands curl into fists at your sides.
"Iâd rather die," you whisper, then louder you say, "Iâd rather join the great mother than live like this!"
The brothers laugh at your answer. Not cruelly. It is the kind of laughter that carries disbelief, as though you have said something naĂŻve rather than brave. Embarrassed, your ears fold flatly against your head.
Loâak lets out a short breath through his nose then, shaking his head and Neteyamâs mouth curves into a smile as their laughter dies down.
"Slave," he repeats with a chuckle. "That might be the wrong word for it."
Loâak moves then, but this time, his brother doesnât stop him. You suck in a sharp breath as he begins to circle you, feet soundless on the furs, his presence pressing in from behind, from the side. You track him with your eyes until he slips out of view, until you feel him more than see him.
"You think in extremes," he murmurs. "You forget there are other ways to belong."
Loâaks hand reaches out and a finger gently traces the curve of your spine, making you jump.
"You would have everything you could dream of," Neteyam continues, eyes sharp as they watch your face for any kind of reaction. "No more hunger. No more running from the vrrteps [demons]."
He steps in closer, voice lowering, almost intimate. "You would be protected. No one would touch you without our say. No one would take from you ever again."
Truthfully, he made it sound like safety. As if this was an act of kindness.
And for a brief, dangerous moment, your body betrays you, because it remembers what it is like to be cold, to be hungry, to sleep with fear curled tight in your chest. It remembers empty days and long nights and prayers whispered to eywa for protection.
The brothers see the hesitation flicker in your eyes.
Loâak smiles immediately. "See?" he says from behind you, his voice much closer than before. "Youâre thinking about it."
You do. But deep down you know, everything they offer comes with an unspoken price. May that be obedience, gratitude or something else. A life wrapped in comfort, yes, but lived on your knees. Fed by the very poison Eywa forbade.
Before you could pull back, Loâak reaches for your hand.
His grip closes tight around your wrist, firm enough that you know fighting it would be useless. Your breath stutters, but you do not give him the satisfaction of struggling. He tugs once, guiding you toward the center of the tent.
The furs beneath your feet are impossibly soft, thick and warm. Youâre so tired, only kept awake by adrenaline and fear, you knew youâd melt into them the moment you were allowed to rest on them.
Loâak releases your hand only once you are where they want you, fingers lingering just a moment too long. He grins at your tension, at the way your shoulders are drawn tight, your jaw clenched like it is the only thing holding you together.
"You would be no slave, txeptsyip, [little flame]" Neteyam says quietly.
He steps closer now, finally closing the distance he had allowed you. He stops at your other side, not touching, but near enough that you could feel the heat rolling off him.
"You would just beâŚ," he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "ours."
Thereâs warmth on your backside too, and you gasp softly when you turn your head and find Loâak this close to you. He leans down, until his lips nearly touch the lobe of your ear.
"Ours to kiss. Ours to touchâŚ", something warm and wet touches your ear, before you realize thatâs his tongue teasing your lobe, "and ours to fuck."
Goosebumps raise all over your skin at his words.
Their bodies radiate heat, caging you in, and for the first time since theyâve entered the tent, you understand something with sick clarity.
They are not trying to frighten you. They are trying to persuade you.
"No," you say, breath shallow but voice firm. "I canâtâ I wonât!"
Neteyamâs expression doesnât harden. If anything, it softens.
Loâakâs fingers brush your hipâ barely there, a featherlight touch meant more to distract than to claim. Itâs infuriating how gentle it is. Heâs not brutally grabbing you, how you expected them to. Not forcing. Just enough to make you aware of where you are. Of who stands behind you.
Neteyam steps closer then, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. He lifts his hands and carefully cups your face in them, thumbs resting beneath your cheekbones.
"Weâd take good care of you," Neteyam tells you, voice calm, almost reasonable. "We protect what is ours."
"And we never let it go," Loâak adds, his smile sinister.
Your heart hammers painfully against your ribs. Every instinct screams at you to pull away, to bite and fight them. But another part of you, traitorous and tired, feels the pull of their attention. The certainty with which they speak, as though the world outside this tent no longer exists and itâs just the three of you.
"If you need proof of this," Neteyam says, tongue flicking over his bottom lip, "then we can show you."
The words are barely spoken before the space between you disappears. He leans in slowly, giving you time to pull awayâ time you do not take. His forehead brushes yours first, breath warm against your lips, and then his mouth meets yours in a way that steals the very air from your lungs.
The kiss is firm, claiming and unyielding, but also controlled. Like everything else about him. The world narrows to the press of his mouth, the heat of his hands still cradling your face and his tongue as his slips between your lips. A small, helpless sound escapes you before you can stop it, but Neteyam greedily swallows it down.
Behind you, Loâak inhales sharply, a sound that borders on a groan. As if he were the one kissing you, sucking on your tongue, tasting your salvia.
"Weâre gonna show you just how good you would have it with us," he murmured into your ear. "Belonging to us is a privilege not many have been allowed to."
Your pulse is racing. Your thoughts are tangled.
Loâaks hands are still at your hips, squeezing soft flesh before they wander up higher, cupping your breasts. Theyâre so big and warm, and you feel each little scar on his skin as they impatiently rip away your top. Your too busy meeting Neteyam eager lips to do something against this, so you just gasp into the kiss when Loâak begins to tease your nipples, rolls them between his fingers until they turn into hard pebbles.
"Mmmh, these would look so good pierced," he purrs lowly, kissing your shoulder and letting his canine rake over the nape of your neck. "I will put my mark on them soon, txeptsyip [little flame]."
As Loâak kneads your breasts in his hands, Neteyamâs slowly move from cupping your face to squeezing your hips, gliding over your backside.
You donât know whoâs doing what or where anymore, but your limbs are becoming unstable and weak as both pair of hands explore your body. Heat was quickly spreading through your core, slithering deep in a place where you suddenly began to crave them.
Their low hums vibrated against your skin, surrounding you like a subtle lullaby. They were slowly caging you in between their bodies, more and more, until you began to squirm.
Sucked into an abyss of sensations, your head began to swim, until you were unable to focus on anything else besides their lips and hands all over you. All you could see, hear and smell was them. You were swallowed between them like a trapped bird.
Finally breaking the kiss with a gasp, your head falls back against Loâaks broad chest as Neteyams hand sneaks itâs way lower and between your thighs. He cups your sex, feeling for how wet you are and then slides his fingers between your folds.
"You are very wet here," he groans, his finger rolling your clit easily with how slippery it was. Then he slides it lower, before he slips his finger into you in one, harsh thrust that makes you gasp. "But you are soaking here."
Your inner walls are clenching down around the single digit Neteyam thrusts into you, curling it slightly until you canât hold back a long, drawn out moan.
"I want a taste," Loâak says to his brother, his voice urgent and commanding. For a moment you fear they will start fighting over you, but then the older one slips his hand free from your loincloth and you pant heavily at the sudden loss.
Itâs not for long, though, because he then spins you around so youâre facing Loâak.
They work as one, starting to undress you by pulling down your loincloth and coverings. Neteyam settles himself down onto the furs first, maneuvering you so your head rests comfortably on his lap and spreading your thighs wide enough for his brother to settle himself between them.
His hands and lips are everywhere, kissing your cheek, nibbling at your earlobe, hands stroking your hair, as you watch Loâak sink down to his knees.
The grin on his face is sharp and dangerous and you swallow to wet your dry throat. Raw nerves make your limbs shake, and you want to close your legs to hide yourself from them, but Loâak does not allow it.
His hands glide along the inside of your thighs, keeping them apart. He kisses you there, kisses your navel and mound too. Kisses the inside of your knee as he drapes your legs over his wide shoulders. His teeth tease your skin, and when he bites into the softness of your inner thigh, you yelp in pain.
Neteyam keeps you pinned when you try to wriggle free, as if the pain had somehow managed to bring back the rational thinking part of you, the one that made you realize that this was wrong, so very wrong.
Your hands claw at Neteyamâs arms, but he coos softly into your ear, "shh, you will be fine. My brother is just teasing. We would never hurt you."
"That is, if youâre being a good girl," Loâak adds from between your legs, licking the bite marks that are slowly turning purplish on your blue skin. Your tail thrashes against the furs, your chest rapidly raising and falling.
Behind you, Neteyamâs chest vibrates with a dark chuckle. You want to protest, want to tell them that you are neither their slave nor their pet, and that you would never be good for them. But then Loâak grins and sticks out his tongue, ready to lick you there, yet is stopped short by the sound of your sharp gasp.
There, in the middle of his tongue, sits a small bead of steel. It reflects the light of the fire nearby, shiny and wet with spit, and your whole body goes rigid at the thought of it touching you.
"Kehe [no]â wait," you nearly choke on your own words with how hastily your force them out, "youâ you canât, it is forbidden to touch metal!"
Both brothers laugh softly at your words, neither of them giving you the impression that they were taking your pleas seriously. Instead, Loâak just grins at you, his face continuing to lower until you feel his warm breath on your cunt.
"Oh baby, trust me. You want that metal to touch you," he murmurs.
"ButâŚt-the great mother willâ"
"Thereâs no great mother here, no eywa. Just us," Neteyam silenced you. "But you will learn to worship us all the same."
And before you could say another word, that metal is pressed harshly against your clit. The sensation of it is like no other.
"O-Oh!"
Truthfully, you expected it to be cold at first, but the steel is warmed up from sitting snugly against his tongue. It glides against your clit, rolls over and around it as Loâak expertly moves his tongue, and your back arches off the furs with how good it feels.
"See?" Neteyam chuckles. "We knew you would like it."
Youâre so lost in the moment, you donât even realize how hard your pressing your nails into Neteyamâs forearms, but he doesnât seem to mind one bit. Heâs just holding you, rubbing his nose along your temple, breathing in your moans and whimpers as his brother feasts on you.
Puckering his lips, Loâak sucks your clit into his mouth until your thighs begin to shake from how quick you were approaching your orgasm.
"I can feel you shaking, txeptsyip [little flame]," Neteyam whispers in your ear. "Youâre being such a good girl for him. Yes, keep spreading those pretty legs."
More moans where spilling free as Loâak circled your clit with his piercing, before sliding it down and fucking you with his tongue. Between your thighs he was moaning, slurping up your arousal without care for how filthy he sounded. The more you spread your legs, the more he was pushing his face against your cunt, hungry for more.
It was mind blowing how skilled he was with his tongue. You had never experienced anything like this, and it almost made you forget about the circumstances that lead you here.
"If you want to come, you can just let it go," the brother behind you murmured with a soft chuckle. He was rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and a finger, lightly pinching and tugging to egg you on.
"When you are ours, we will make you come as many times as you want to," he explains, almost casually. "As many times as you deserve, txeptsyip [little flame]."
His words made you feel dizzy.
They were planning to keep you for their pleasure, but that did not mean your own would come short. They made that much clear.
Aware of every new twitch and shudder, Loâak was adjusting the patterns of his tongue accordingly, until you couldnât take it anymore.
"I- I think Iâm gonna come," you managed to force the words out between quick breaths.
A low, throaty groan that nearly sounded like a growl broke free from Loâaks mouth at the sound of that.
"Do it," he growled, barely lifting his lips enough to detach from your clit. "Come for me, câmon. Let me taste it."
It was heat against heat, hot mouth against hotter skin. His sharp tongue flicks over your clit a final time, metal hard and hot against it, and then you break into a thousand pieces.
Neteyam holds you as you come, sucking marks into your throat and shoulder, while you claw at his arms hard enough to draw blood. He groans with you, enjoying the pain that your pleasure inflicts on him.
You breath in shallow pants as you come down from your high, suddenly feeling entirely too hot under your skin. But there is barely time for you to process what had just happened.
Quickly, too quick for your liking, Loâak grabs your wrists and pulls you away from his brothers lap.
The grin on his face is a mean one, with the lower half of his face still glistening in your arousal, ash and paint smeared so the pretty blue color of his skin was now shining through.
Your brain isnât even functioning properly yet again, when the younger brother pulls you into a dirty kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue, swirling the tiny metal ball around your mouth and teasing your lips with it. He releases you only when you think you might suffocate because he leaves you no air to breath, and you gasp when he finally does.
"If you already enjoyed this small piece of metal," Loâak says lowly, grabs your shoulders and slowly turns you over so your head was now resting on his lap while Neteyam settled between your thighs. "Just wait until you find out what my brother will do to do."
Blinking a few times, you stare up at the other brother with wide eyes. Your first instinct is to close your legs and sit up, but Loâak has you secured against him, his wide biceps caging you in. His skin is almost hot to the touch, muscles like steel as you wrap your hands around his arms, much like you did to Neteyam before.
Your thighs are spread further the closer he shuffles between them, his hands holding them up by the underside of your knees. But heâs not looking at you at all.
Neteyamâs entire focus is on your pussy.
His head is tilted slightly, the look on his face almost fond as he admires you. One of his hands comes to lay on your mound, his thumb gently circling around your clit, before he carefully slides the little hood up so he could get a better view at it.
Your breathing comes out heavier then before, and your entire body twitches every time he comes to close to that little bundle of nerves.
His thumb slides lower then, teasing you entrance and carefully pulling your lips apart as if he was examining you. Itâs almost too much for you, and you try to hide your face in Loâaks arms.
"Still so wet," he finally breaths. "Such a tiny, tight looking body that you have. I will enjoy breaking you in."
The chest that youâre leaning against rumbles with a dark chuckle, then Loâak leans down to whisper into your ear, "heâs been talking about nothing else ever since we caught you."
His words make you shiver as realization dawns in on you. This was never a moment of impulse or a whim born tonight. You were always meant to end up here, with them.
When they took your people, they didnât spare you because you begged well enough. You were chosen. Selected by spoiled sons of a broken clan, raised knowing that nothing was ever denied to them.
The fire crackles next to you, and then Neteyamâs hands leave your skin in favor of untying his loincloth.
When the dark piece of fabric finally falls away, you suck in a breath. The sound is loud and impolite, and you immediately want to clasp a hand over your mouth.
The warrior in front of you may be adorned with bones, leather and other natural materials that are not so different from those of any other naâvi, honoring his heritage. But there, along the base of his cock, sits something foreign and wrong.
"H-How manyâŚ" the words come out as a hushed whisper of disbelief, your eyes wide as you try and fail not to stare at him like this.
On the underside of his length, Neteyamâs cock is pierced with four rows of small, neatly placed, shiny metal balls.
"Eight," he says proudly, letting his hand glide over each one of them.
Without thinking, you ask, "did⌠didnât they hurt?"
"They did," he smiles. "Thatâs why I got them."
You swallow thickly. Neteyam makes a show of letting his fingers slip over the piercings, squeezing the tip and huffing out a breath. His eyes are half lidded, pupils blown as he watches you for any kind of reaction, seemingly getting off at the way you nervously bite your lip. Your own breath hitches when he moves closer, your eyes fixed on the forbidden metal that dares to touch your skin.
The soft head of his cock touches you first, making the fine hair on your neck raise as he lets it part your folds and smear your slick arousal over your clit. You hate how good it feels, until warm steel touches you too, and you donât know whether to cry or moan because that, too, feels incredible.
Neteyam slides his cock against you in lazy strokes, letting you feel each piercing, and your imagination runs wild with how these little bumps might feel inside you.
"I want to watch you take every single one of them," he murmurs then, and your eyes widen slightly at the realization that you are supposed to take him to the last row of them.
"N-No, I canât!" You begin to struggle, but Loâaks arms remind you that itâs no use. One of his hands pinches a nipple hard, like a reminder to stay put and you cry out softly. "Donât," the younger brother says, his canine crazing your ear. "I like a woman with fire, but weâre trying to play nice because youâve been good so far. Donât make us regret that. Iâd hate to break my new toy so early."
You bite your tongue in order not to spit venom at him, but your face mustâve given your thoughts away.
Neteyam chuckles softly, "If you want to be bad, save that for next time, txeptsyip [little flame]. But we will not hold back then."
The glare you give them wavers, and it disappears fully when he begins to push the tip of his cock against your entrance.
The stretch that follows makes you suck in a breath. Heâs thick and long, and the first inch feels like youâre being split apart. But itâs a good kind of pain, youâre wet and pliant after your first orgasm, so when he pushes himself inside, warmth begins to spread in your core as your body gives way.
But then you feel that first touch of metal, and your thighs instinctively want to jerk close around his hips.
"Shh, relax, you were doing so good taking me," Neteyam coos, his hands spreading your legs wider as he sinks further into you. The first row of piercings slips into you and your mouth falls open with a surprised "oh!".
Those tiny beads feel so foreign against you, so warm to the touch. And eywa forgive you, they felt incredible. The sensation was like no other as he continued to push, making them roll along your inner walls.
"Thatâs one⌠and two," Neteyam says lowly, licking his lips to wet them. "Come on, count them for me."
Your head spins. You wouldnât have been able to even tell them your name if one of them asked you right now, but then he slides in a few more inches and you manage to breath out quietly, "threeâŚf-four."
Behind you, Loâak was whispering sweet nothings into your ear, words you couldnât really focus on but they made you so much wetter and then, "five, s..ix."
Sweat was slicking your forehead as more and more of his length was pushing past your tight entrance. It felt never ending, filling you constantly until you thought there was no room left inside you anymore. You felt so full of him, until finally the last row of piercings slid inside you.
"S-SevenâŚ" You whimpered and Neteyam let out a deep groan, "eight."
"Smart girl," Loâak teased from behind, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as if he worried you werenât able to see just how deep Neteyam was inside of you. But even with your eyes closed you could feel him, could feel the heat as he breached you, the weight of his cock, the smooth tip again your cervix and the eight little beads of steel massaging your body from the inside.
You tried to swallow a soft, needy sound, that would give away how bad you wanted him to move, hating how good he made you feel, but unable to hide it any longer.
"Donât forget to breathe," he grins, and you release the breath you didnât even realize you were holding. The moment you exhale, Neteyam withdraws from your tight heat, only to slam himself right back in.
Now you know why heâs told you to breathe.
The moan he practically fucks out of you is loud and embarrassing. Youâre sure the entire village had just heard you.
And then, Neteyam begins to move. His strokes are hard, deep and on point, his pace only increasing as time passes. Every time he enters you, you feel his piercings so clearly and your moans turn more desperate with every thrust of his hips. His eyes roam over you, starting from where you were connectedâ in and out, his cock glistening with your slickness. Then your breasts, bouncing every time your hips meet, only supported by Loâaks hands squeezing and toying with them. And finally your face, lips swollen red from occasional dirty kisses, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded.
Neteyam let out a grunt whenever he pulled back, before burying himself deep again, his cock knocking on your cervix as if he was made of steel too. There are words coming out your mouth, but you donât recognize them as anything coherent. You think theyâre curses, prayers, maybe even both.
Youâre so lost in your pleasure, you donât even realize that your eyes are falling closed, until Loâak gives your cheek a few surprisingly gentle taps with his hand, jolting you back into reality.
"Hey, weâre not done with you yet, txeptsyip [little flame]." He grins. "Canât have you passing out on us now."
Loâaks hand then cups your face and squeezes your cheeks, forcing your jaw to drop, "yeah, thatâs right. Open up for me."
You donât know what possesses you in this moment to obey them so willingly, but when his face leans over yours, you eagerly stick your tongue out and let him lick over yours, before he letâs a thick droplet of spit land into your mouth.
Itâs filthy and humiliating, and both men groan in perfect sync when you swallow down his spit.
"Fuck, youâre making me so hard," Loâak sighs. The cock thatâs buried deep inside you throbs in agreement and you mewl sickening sweet at that. Whatever it is that theyâre doing to you, you donât feel like yourself anymore.
This isnât really you, missing your usual bite, your instinct to survive. This is a woman reduced to pleasure and nothing more. Just a hole for them to fuck. And worst of all, you were enjoying it.
Your head felt empty of all doubts and worries as you watched Loâak move to kneel besides your head and then push down his loincloth to free his own cock. Your vision was slightly blurred from how hard Neteyam was thrusting into you, but you could still see the thin, polished ring of steel that was piercing through the head and the small slit of his tip.
Shuffling closer, Loâak caressed your jaw with his hand, while he used the other to eagerly press his length against your lips, pushing until you opened up for him.
"Câmon, suck my cock. Get it wet for me, baby."
So you did. Your tongue was stretched out as far as it could reach, and Loâak immediately began sliding his length against the wet muscle. He tasted like ash and salty musk, heavy against your tongue and you moaned from deep within your throat before you slowly took him in your mouth.
"Fuuuck, there you go. Thatâs a good fucking girl," Loâak groans at the sight, thrusting his hips forward to push himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue begins to swirl around his head, tasting the metal of his piercing, teasing it, before you hallow your cheeks and suck.
Simultaneously, Neteyam was thrusting into you harder, pushing you further against Loâakâs cock until you were beginning to gag on it.
Everything was too much âtoo good, too deep, too fast, too rough. All you could do was lay there take it.
Soon, the brothers had found a rhythm both of them were benefiting from, and you were moved back and forth only by the thrusts of both of them.
"Look at her. She is perfect for us," Neteyam chuckled from above you, your inner walls clenching down hard on his cock at his words. "Such a good, obedient pet."
Every now and then your jaw was hanging slack, letting moans fall freely when hands you didnât know belonged to which one of them started rubbing your clit in viciously fast circles. Sometimes it felt as if they were both fighting for their place to make your feel good, and it was two hands rubbing against that oversensitive little nub.
Loâak gave a loud groan whenever that happened, seemingly enjoying being able to just thrust himself into you until he hit the back of your throat, using your mouth in such a filthy, dirty way that it made your eyes roll into the back of your head.
"So eager to please and so easy to use," he agreed with a grin. "I donât care what path she chooses, I want to keep her."
It was embarrassing how fast Loâak and Neteyam could turn you into a trembling, whimpering mess. The squelching sounds they expertly worked out of you only added further to your humiliation, but also your pleasure. At this pace, it was impossible not to come. And both brothers knew that.
Soon, you could feel that familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core, stealing the very air from your lungs as you moaned around the cock in your mouth.
Higher and higher you felt that tension building, felt it crawl under your skin, a warmth spreading through your core. You wantedâ no, you needed to come. There was no way around it. You found yourself having no control over this, just letting yourself go because it felt too good to care about consequences, or what was right or wrong anymore.
Metal and steel was beginning to poison you from the inside out, corrupting you slowly, turning you into this mess.
It was a buildup of tension that arched your back and curled your toes and just when you thought you couldnât take it anymore, something in you snapped.
When you come, itâs like a wave of release and you scream.
It pulses throughout your body, making you moan, loud and lewd and you should probably feel a little embarrassed too, but you couldnât find it in yourself to care. Not when Neteyam was fucking you through it so good, his head falling back against his neck in pure bliss. And not when Loâak was using the vibrations of your moans to get himself off of them, a fist in your hair to push you down his length.
You felt each of them pulse, and then there was nothing but heat. The heat of your own orgasm as it came crashing down on you, and then the warmth of cum flooding your insides from both ends as the brothers cursed under their breath, holding you down with greedy hands and making you take, take, take and then swallow, until you couldnât take much more.
Loâak was first to pull himself out of you, and immediately you were gasping for air. The salty taste of cum still lingered on your tongue as he bend down and shoved his own between your lips, leaving you breathless once more as he tastes himself on your tongue. Thereâs a brief moment of pain on your bottom lip, before he finally pulls back. You catch the glimpse of blood on the tip of his tongue, and when you mirror the way he was licking his lips, you taste copper of where he had bitten you.
"Sorry," he was grinning down at you, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. "Couldnât help myself."
Brows drawn together in a frown, a tiny part in the back of your head wanted you to sit up and finally do somethingâ hiss, fight, scratch him, anything. But your limbs feel like molten wax, sticking to the furs like warm honey.
Still grinning sharply, Loâak mustâve noticed, because he bend down to cradle your head in one of his strange, four fingered hands. But instead of helping you sit up, he was merely directing your gaze to what was happening between your thighs.
The older brother was still kneeling there, and only when the sight of his sweat slicked abs and his heaving chest caught your eyes, your core clenched around what you noticed was his cock still nestled inside of you.
As if he had been waiting for your attention, Neteyam then pulled out of you. He was doing it slow enough, you felt each row of metal graze along your oversensitive walls and a whimper broke free from you at the sensation. It was followed by the warm feeling of his cum oozing out of you after his cock had finally made way.
You feel wet, sticky and empty, and a fresh wave of shame washes over you as you watch Neteyamâs mesmerized gaze, entirely hypnotized by the sight. Too tired to move, youâre forced to lay there and watch as he then raises a hand, collecting the cum that had dripped out of you, before shoving it back inside your cunt with two of his long fingers.
You nearly choke on a gasp as you feel them breach you in one fluid thrust.
"Ah-ah, I want you to keep it in there," Neteyam says, giving his fingers a twist that made you keen. "Until I have marked you properly, you will carry my seed so everyone can smell myself on you."
Once he had withdrawn his fingers, he brings them to his lips and licks them clean of you, his tail curling behind him as if pleased by the taste.
Itâs the last thing you see before Loâak finally lets your weight sink back, your head resting against the thick furs beneath you again.
Before you know whatâs happening next, they move with unsettling ease, one on either side of you, bodies closing in not to trap but to hold.
Neteyam lies down first, an arm sliding beneath your shoulders, steady and sure. Loâak follows a moment later, lazily stretching out behind you, his presence warm and close, like a living wall at your back.
Their hands are everywhere at once.
Cradling, stroking. Slow, absent motions meant to soothe you. Fingers trace idle patterns along your arms, your side, the curve of your waist, even your breasts. You hate how careful they are. Hate how your body responds to the warmth, the closeness, the simple fact of being held after all that had happened.
The fire crackles softly from somewhere behind you, and exhaustion presses down on you like a tide you can no longer fight. Your eyelids flutter despite your efforts, growing heavier with every slow breath you take.
"Sleep," Loâak murmurs. He nuzzles briefly into the crook of your neck, spreading his scent onto your skin. "Youâre going to need it."
You feel a hand find your tail, fingers brushing along its length, teasing the soft hairs at the tip in a way that makes you shiver despite yourself. Neteyam leans in, his lips brushing your temple. The hand on your tail glides to its base, squeezing gently and your eyes finally fall shut.
The last thing you register, before sleep finally takes you out, is Neteyamâs voice in your ear, whispering softly,
"You belong to us now, txeptsyip [little flame]."
Honorable mentions of artworks that inspired this fic:
Credit: @xyla1181
Credit: @porpunta
Credit: @fisheyea16
Credit: @liam_nae2
(If you want your art removed from this post please let me know!!)
pairings: various avatar men x female na'vi reader
(jake sully, miles quaritch, neteyam, loâak, & aoânung)
series notes: neteyam is aged up to 23, lo'ak & ao'nung are aged up to 22, reader is aged up to 25, reader is morally grey and a coy bitch, infidelity from jake and lo'ak, suggestive themes and smut, varang and miles & lo'ak and tsireya exists here intimately. made up clans and practices for the sake of this series, misogyny, men being men, big age gap for jake and reader & miles and reader, change in canon events and facts.
series prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman whoâs form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
pairing: tsuâtey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)
content warnings: graphic language, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, fuck u miles quaritch, tension you could cut with a knife, nsfw themes: grinding, biting, scent marking???. enemies to lovers. (also, i donât like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)
word count: o_0 long⌠<3 ur welcome
pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. iâll use the name sparingly but i canât take myself seriously writing y/nâ so please just work with me here. i promise itâll be worth it. (i hope)
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âââđâââ
SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited youâ her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyoneâ thatâs why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.
when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.
the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.
truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtakingâ and thatâs because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you deadâ but none are as dangerous as him.
the blue shadow with the bow.
chapter five
â i know you â
the chopper was louder than you remembered. it made it hard to sleep even with the protective headphone over your ears. leaving before the sun was up, you were utterly exhausted. if your head was pounding bad enough to make you scowl with your eyes closed, you couldnât imagine the headache jake had from his link being broken. with your head rested on his shoulder, the two of you tired your best to sleep.
you wished you hadnât.
she came to you in your dreams.
âhey,â graceâs voice was gravelly over the headset. you felt her nudge your leg. âtwin one and twin two, wake up before you miss it.â
you let out a soft whine as you stretched. beside you, jake yawned. he turned his head away from the glaring morning sun and tucked it down into your shoulder despite the mask. the cool breeze of oxygen was vitalâ but you really wished you couldâve taken it off to rub the sleep from your eyes. blinking hard, you tried to focus.
âoh, holy shitâŚâ
emerging from the clouds, the hallelujah mountains came into view. the massive, floating rocks were covered in green. waterfalls fell into sprays of cool mist that wafted into the helicopter that helped wake up jake. he, too, stared dumbfounded outside.
âainât it something?â grace asked.
you turned your head to look at her and all you could do was nod. your eyes welled with tears you didnât let fall. it was gorgeous. too gorgeous. earth â even as pretty as it was in its prime â couldâve never ever compared to the majesty and the glory that was pandora.
âaaaand thatâs another job well done, folks. thanks for traveling air pandora. tips are appreciated.â trudy said in a perfect public service voice as she began to shut down the chopper.
âbest damn pilot this side of the universe.â jake said.
trudy smirked. âyou know it, baby.â
blue base: hidden was where you would be spending the next handful of months with grace, norm, trudy, and jake. setting up the field lab was no easy task. there was much to do. air filters had to be cleaned. link-pods and tech needed to be recalibrated to deal with the flux vortex. a new radio channel had to be set up in all the walkie-talkies. food needed to be stored away. bunks needed to be prepared.
you had so much to doâ too much to do.
and yet you couldnât stop thinking about tsuâtey.
âhey, where are you going?â grace asked as you rose from the table. you had all eaten dinner as a group once all the work had finally gotten done.
âi have to link.â you said as you tossed away your trash and took a last sip of water.
âitâs late. you should wait until tomorrow.â grace said with a small shake of her head.
âi canât. iâm sorry.â you frowned at her and whispered, âitâs important. he needs to know.â
while the other three at the table exchanged confused glances, grace only sighed. she got up without another protest and fired up the link-pod. you climbed inside and laid back.
fuck was it going to be hard not to fall asleep.
as soon as your head hit the spongy blue foam, you couldâve fallen asleep right then and there. as soon as the hatch shut and your eyes closed, your vision tunneled into white.
the warm night air and smell of pandoran dinner were a comfort you didnât know you needed. you laid by yourself for a moment. you were tired. incredibly so. it had been nearly two days since youâd been in your avatar at this point. traveling to the hallelujah mountains and setting up blue base: hidden had taken more time than you thought it would.
the center of home tree was alive with music and dancing. a massive bonfire in the middle of the gathering burned like a second sun. shadows danced across the walls as voices echoed in song. you couldnât help but smile. you couldnât help, either, as you scanned face to face looking for him.
âdream-walker, youâre awake.â the tsahik said.
your turned. sitting with her daughter, moâat ran her fingers over a beaded chord. neytiri did not look at you as you crouched down to be level. instead, she focused on her own beaded chord.
âwhatâs all this?â you asked with a glance around at the festivities.
âa celebration of life.â
neytiriâs voice was like snow. cold and beautiful. it almost hurt your ears how pretty it wasâ and you realized it was the first time youâd ever heard her speak.
she met your eyes and said, âthere has been a death since you were last here. we mourned and now we celebrate.â
your heart sank.
for a split momentâ a moment you never wanted to live again, you thought it was him.
where was tsuâtey?
âan elder passed in her sleep.â the tsahik said. she watched your expression. she seemed to know exactly what you feared. âshe lived a long, full life. now she will live forever in eywa.â
âiâm sorry for your lossâŚâ you whispered, saying the only thing you could offer.
âthere is no loss,â neytiri said without looking at you. instead, she was focused on something behind you. âyou cannot lose what was not really yours.â
âeris.â
you looked up at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. you shot up, your pupils blown wide. tsuâtey took ahold of your arm and squeezed you. his ears perked and the look in his eyes was one that youâd never thought youâd see.
relief.
âcome.â tsuâtey said.
without another word, he whisked you away. he was always doing that. grabbing and pulling you. you wondered as you hurried to keep up with him, when that had become your favorite part of your day.
to your surprise, you left home tree.
where better to talk privately than where no one was at this hour?
âyou were gone a long time.â tsuâtey said as he walked beside you through the sunset painted forest. soon, it would be dark and the forest would glow all on its own.
âi knowâŚiâm sorry.â you said softly. you glanced up at him and heat rushed to your face. he was looking at you. âthingsâ uhâŚthings got real crazy real fast. iâm happy to report that jake is not a spy for the RDA.â
âyou are sure of this?â tsuâtey asked, his brows drawing together.
âyes.â you said. you cracked a small smile and laughed. âgrace is intent on making sure those who would wish to plant spies here never get the chance. she pulled my whole team out of the RDA facility. we areâ wellâŚmaybe i shouldnât tell you where we are.â
tsuâteyâs eyes widened and he asked, âare you not at your colony?â
âno. not anymore. weâve gone wild. we are far from hellâs gate. far from here, too. at least, i think? iâm not really sure where those floating mountains are.â
you slapped your hand over your mouth.
tsuâtey smiled down at you and chuckled. âwhat? afraid iâll come and kill you?â
âmaybeâŚâ you whispered, letting your hands drop.
âyou have proven yourself to be useful, eris, so there is little to gain by killing you.â tsuâtey said. his arm brushed against yours and he met your eyes. âbetter yet, youâve proven yourself to be trustworthy.â
your throat tightened and your chest caved but your forced yourself to smile.
silence settled over the two of you as you walked and you were thankful for it. your voice wouldâve cracked and you wouldâve cried if you had to say anything more. walking with him now, you realized how scared you had been the last 37 hours.
with him, you felt safe.
and it made you cry.
you stopped dead in your tracks and covered your face with your hands. big, wet tears rolled down your cheeks. the stress of the move and the exhaustion due to it made for an awful, potent mix of a complete and utter overwhelm.
âeris?â tsuâtey whispered your name too gently.
âiâm just tired,â you said. you wiped your eyes hard and tried to calm your breath. you looked up at him and shook your head. âiâm fine.â
âlet us go back. we will get you back to your body so that you can sleep.â tsuâtey said.
âno.â you shook your head as tears dripped from your eyes. âi donât want to go back yet. please. i want to stay here. i want to stay with yââ
you caught yourself.
not weâll enough.
tsuâtey ears perked and his pupils rounded. carefully, he flicked his head. without a word, you followed behind him. you had no idea where you were going. you didnât care. when you came upon a massive tangle of gigantic tree roots, the forest was beginning to glow in the shadows.
âthis way,â tsuâtey said as he crouched down.
you raised your hand up to protect your face as you followed him into the dark. a tunnel. the smell of pandoran soil was strong. lights began to twinkle the deeper into the dark tunnel you walked until blue and purple were the only colors you could see.
underground was a small burrow-like cave. the grass shined as you walked. the tree roots were speckled with colorful dots. the gems in the walls of the burrow twinkled and reflected the light. in the center, an unlit firepit. woven mats lined the floor. baskets were placed against the walls.
âwhat is this place?â you asked softly.
âit is where hunters come to rest if they tire greatly before reaching home tree. there are many places like this in the forest.â tsuâtey said.
you watched as he lit a fire. slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. it took skill to make a fire that fast. you wondered if youâd master something like that one day. would he teach you?
âwhere is jakeâs avatar?â you asked. the thought came to your mind like fire catching onto dry grass. you watched the flames swirl as he added kindle.
âthe tsahikâs hut.â tsuâtey said without looking at you.
you looked at him though.
you watched the way his muscles rippled as he moved. you watched the way he shifted his weight as he reached around. when he finally sat down beside you, you stared at his face. his frustratingly handsome face.
was it wrong that you found him handsome?
he was a ten-foot-tall blue alien and all you wanted to do was let your head drop into his lap and fall asleep.
âwhy do you look at me like that?â tsuâtey asked. his voice was low. low and curious. he turned his head and met your eyes.
you pursed your lips. âlike what?â
âlikeâŚâ tsuâtey hesitated. perhaps he didnât have the words in english. he cracked an awkward smile. âlike you want toâŚeat me.â
your eyes widened and you couldnât help but laugh. as heat filled your face, you looked away. âi donât look at you like thatâŚâ
ânotâ not like you want to chew me and swallow.â tsuâtey was quick to say, worried he confused you. he tried to catch a glimpse of your face as he sat forward. âbut like you want toâŚi donât know. forget it. i canât express it well.â
âitâs because i think youâre hot.â
when he didnât say anything, you forced yourself to look at him. his ears were perked. he was waiting for you to explain. to say more. you found it hard to.
âhotâŚâ tsuâtey repeated. âlike i burn you?â
âkinda.â you said with a small laugh. you played with one of the braids in your hair as you stared at the fire. âit just means iâŚi think youâre attractive. youâre good looking. i think youâre hot.â
âis that why you try to put your mouth on mine?â tsuâtey asked.
you wanted to curl into a ball and die.
âyeahâŚâ you said softly, nodding your head. you exhaled the air in your lungs awkwardly.
âi feel like that about you.â
you nearly broke your neck looking up at him so fast. your eyes widened and your lips parted in a soft expression of shock. you donât know why it surprised you so much. he had literally tried to fuck you in the hot springs.
still, it was different hearing it so outright.
âyouâŚthink iâm hot?â you asked under your breath.
tsuâtey nodded once. âyes.â
âand you want toâŚkiss me?â
âall the time.â
you couldâve fainted.
your heart was racing and so much blood was rushing to your face that you felt light headedâ but you had to keep your wits about you.
you laid back on your elbows and nodded, trying to seem as nonchalant as you could. âepic.â
âepic?â tsuâtey asked as he, too, laid back on his elbows. he looked at you. âwhat is epic?â
âforget it.â you said with a small shake of your head.
so embarrassingâŚ
silence fell over the both of you. the burrow was full only with the sounds of crackling sticks. soft, even breaths. a small hum of some tune he whispered under his breath. you looked up at him but he kept his eyes on the fire.
it became warm in the safe haven below the ground. perfectly warm. it made your eyes heavy. his humming did, too. slowly, you slipped down to lay on your side. when you did, he did the same. on the mat beside you, he rested his head on his palm and watched you as he hummed.
âi donât want to fall asleepâŚâ you murmured, rubbing your eyes. you smiled faintly. âyouâre making me sleepy.â
âwhat is it you want then?â tsuâtey asked in a low voice.
you shook your head.
he sighed the smallest bit. âjust say it and i will do it.â
you hesitated for a moment.
tsuâtey tensed as you wiggled closer and curled up against his chest. he looked down at you. with your eyes closed, you tried to play it coolâ but your heart was pounding in your chest.
the tension in you died away as he brushed his fingers down your arm. you relaxed as he laid down with you. his arm slid underneath your head. a perfect pillow. his legs tangled with yours. his lips rested against the top of your head.
he placed the faintest kiss on your hairline.
you were no longer tired.
all you could hear was the pound of your heart. it was like thunder. you breathed as deeply and as evenly as you could to keep yourself from squirming. you hoped he couldnât feel the way your heart raced.
he could.
âmawey,â tsuâtey murmured, reaching between you to place his hand on your chest.
it only made you less calm.
slowly, you lifted your head to be eye-to-eye with him. with his hand still on your chest, he could feel the beat your heart had skipped. his pupils widened as you stared into his eyes. his tail was swaying, audibly swishing against the mat.
âwhat?â you asked softly.
âyou smell good,â tsuâtey whispered, a small smile curling on his lip.
you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew what he was getting at. pheromones. you inhaled through your nose. the smell of the fire was all that you could really pick out. that and a sweet, faint aroma you figured was the grass.
you shook your head. âi only smell the fire.â
tsuâtey let out a low sigh but smiled anyways. âyou are frustratingâŚdo you know that?â
âi donât mean to be.â you said softly.
âi know,â he dragged his fingers up your arm and pressed his palm against your face. âwhich is even more frustrating...â
tsuâtey kissed you.
and it took everything in you not to moan.
worse, it was harder not to devour him completely.
he kissed you slowly and softly, as if he were testing out the waters. maybe he expected you to feel different on his lips than real naâvi women did. or perhaps kissing was entirely different on pandora than it was on earth.
you let him lead.
you liked it best when he told you what to do.
your fingers laced through his braids as you kissed him back. his lips were like velvet. his mouth was hot. you wanted to taste him but you didnât know if you could. you were too afraid to ruin this by doing something too human.
but you couldnât help it.
you parted your lips in the hopes that he would give you more.
his tongue was wet and coarse as it dipped into your mouth. you sighed against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. guiding you to the ground, he leaned the top half of himself over you as your tongues slow danced together.
he tasted so fucking good.
he smelled so fucking good.
his pheromones hit you like an anvil to the head like in those old cartoons. salvia filled your mouth and a tingle began to vibrate in your belly. between your legs, your pussy began to weep. your tail curled itself tight around your leg. you felt breathless. you felt hot all over.
you felt so bad for not realizing what you did to him without even knowing it.
tsuâtey pulled his lips away from yours but he did not remove them from you. he glided them along your jaw. he nipped at your throat as you tilted your head back. you were squirming below him, panting and huffing as he kissed the sweetest spots you had. soon enough, you were grinding against each other.
a sharp yelp escaped you as he bit into the crook of your neck. fangs threatened to puncture through your skinâ but they didnât. he didnât. he just wanted to bite. and bite you he did. over and over again, across your throat and shoulders, tsuâtey bit you hard enough to draw gasps from your lips but not enough to bruise.
your eyes shot open as he rolled you onto your side. the fire warmed your face but that was nothing compared to the flush that burned in your cheeks as he pressed himself against your backside. he pushed his hips forward into your ass. you could feel his erection. it throbbed against you from below his loincloth
âi will not mate with you face to face,â tsuâtey murmured against your ear. he dragged his lips along the pointed cartilage. âbut we may do it like this and i will hold you just as close.â
âwhy canât we face each other?â you asked softly, squirming back to be closer to him.
you tried to look over your shoulder and meet his eyes but he tucked his face down into the nape of your neck and bit down. you winced softly and closed your eyes, grinding back against him subconsciously.
âbecause if we look at each other, we grow attached.â tsuâtey said, his breath hot against your neck. it made you shiver. ânaâvi can only mate for life by forming tsaheylu but there is still a deep connection that comes with staring into the eyes of someone you mount.â
âi may not be a virgin, eris, but i have never faced anyone while i coupled with them.â tsuâtey said as he reached down between you both and pushed your leg up to your belly. he was making room for himself. âthat honor shall belong only to my mate.â
your heart sank at once. âto neytiriâŚâ
âto whomever i chose.â tsuâtey said gruffly.
he didnât have much of a choice.
you both knew that.
âthis is wrong.â you said softly. you turned onto your tummy and looked at him. well, you tried your best to. it was hard to look him in the eye.
âwhat is?â tsuâtey asked with a small shake of his head.
âif youâreâŚif youâre supposed to mate with neytiri for life, what are we doing? it doesnât feel right. it feels like youâre cheating on her.â you said through the tightness in your throat.
tsuâtey frowned and leaned into you. he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. ânaâvi cannot cheat. until naâvi form tsaheylu, they are not bonded to anyone or anything besides their ikran. once naâvi mate, there cannot be another.â
âwe are doing nothing wrong.â tsuâtey murmured against your ear. he nipped at it softly. âbut if you do not wish to, i will not make you.â
âi do wish to but it doesnât seem right. iâm notâŚi donât even know what iâm doing here. iâm not like you. not up here.â you pointed to your head. âand not here either.â you placed your hand on your chest.
tsuâtey pushed himself up onto his knees as you sat up. you were almost entirely turned away from him. slowly, he came up behind you. he ran his hands down your arms and peeked his head over your shoulder. you tried your best to ignore him.
âno matter what you are, eywa has chosen you for something.â tsuâtey whispered into your ear. he wrapped his arm around you and placed his palm against your thumping heart. âno matter what you are, this heart is strong.â
âno matter what you are, i see you.â
you turned your head and met his striking yellow gaze. your lips were ajar in soft shock. your ears pinned and perked. your tail curled itself into knots as butterflies ate at your insides.
he saw you.
he could see you.
at least, he thought he could.
he had no idea who the real you was.
you frowned at him as you studied the details of his face. âi wish that were true.â
his brows drew together and he tilted his head.
âyou donât even know me.â you said under your breath. you looked away and closed your eyes tight. âyou said it yourself, my kind are a disease on this land. we donât belong here. iâŚi shouldnât be doing this with you.â
âi speak in anger. it is my curse. for that i am sorry.â tsuâtey said in a low, gentle voice. he slid his hands around your hips and down your thighs, keeping you close. âi will stop being cruel.â
âitâs not like i make it very easy for you to be nice sometimes,â you whispered as you watched his fingers trace the stripes on your thighs.
âwe both need to improve.â tsuâtey said as he brushed his nose along your ear. âit is something we shall work on.â
he was being too affectionate. it was wearing your resolve thinâ but was he being affection because he liked you or just to get laid?
your chest started to hurt all over again.
âwe canât,â you whispered.
tsuâtey sighed and hugged you closer. âwe can.â
âno we canât.â you turned. facing him was harder. you wished you stayed looking the other way. âthere is no we. you are promised to another and in human culture, iâd be considered a homewrecker.â
âeris,â he breathed your name as if it pained him. âi donât want neytiri. and nor does she want me.â
âi thought you said it was duty.â you said with a small shake of your head.
he scowled at you and squished your cheeks between his fingers. âyou never stop talkingâŚâ
âwllwhatdyowan.â you tried to say through your squished lips. tsuâtey rolled his eyes and removed his hand from your face. rubbing your cheek, you asked again.
âwhat do you want?â
âwhat i want is for you to turn over and let me inside you, woman. i want that very much. to hold and bite and kiss you.â tsuâtey said almost impatiently.
you annoyed him so greatly.
and yet he wanted you anyways.
âwill you at least let me earn it first?â you asked. your voice was hardly loud enough. your face was hot and your tail was swaying wildly behind you.
he tipped his head. âwhat?â
you sighed and looked down into your lap. you picked at the skin around your nails and rolled your eyes as embarrassment weighed on your chest. so stupid. this was so stupid. you were so, so stupidâŚ
âi want that, too, but i canât even shoot an arrow. i feelâŚunworthy.â you cringed as you said the word. you shouldâve just shut up and let him fuck you.
âeris,â he tried to interject but you wouldnât let him.
âonce i learn how to be more like you and less likeâŚlike meâŚthenâŚokay.â you looked up at him and bit your lip. you couldnât read his expression. âwe canâŚwe can do whatever this is.â you gestured between you both to whatever tension was tangled around you.
tsuâtey only stared at you. you felt like a slide under a microscope. he took in every detail of you. every facet. every stripe and dot. every fine hair on your almost naâvi face.
he only nodded once. âit is decided then.â
â đ â
strength was something you never thought you could have.
on earth, the pollution had made you feel sick. it kept you indoors. it made your mind hazy. on pandora, there was no mist in your mind. there was no laying aroundâ not on the path the you had chosen to walk.
you wanted to be a warrior.
you would become one.
rain or shine, you were out in the forest with tsuâtey learning how to be strong. strong in your body, in your head, and in your heart. every day you would run. along the forest floor, over the towering tree roots, in the muddy riverbed. you ran and ran and ran and built up your stamina. every day you would climb. you climbed trees, rocks, and vines. you learned how to pull yourself, push yourself, and most importantlyâ catch yourself.
archery was the hardest for you.
the first time you shot an arrow, it ricocheted off a rock and nearly flew back at you. tsuâtey hadnât even known that level of bad luck was possible. you hadnât done much wrong, either. it was not your posture. it was not your technique.
it was simply poor luck.
âhereâŚâ he said under his breath, eyes still wide. he came up behind you and adjusted your elbow. the adjustment would change nothing. it was too smallâ but he didnât want you to feel terrible. âtry like that instead.â
âsureâŚâ you muttered, keeping your elbow straight.
archery was far harder than riding a direhorse. while you sustained more injuries riding mitsia, at least there was pay off. there was visible progress. the art archery took you hours to get comfortable with.
and then it took you days to master.
âcan you see?â tsuâtey asked as he grabbed your face. he looked into your eyes. âyou can see, yes?â
âyeah, i can fuckinâ see.â you huffed as you turned your face away. you ignored him as you tried again. it was pouring. the rain was cold and the wind was harsh. âitâs the wind. the wind is fucking me up.â
âit was not windy yesterday when you did not hit anything.â tsuâtey said.
you hissed at him and he was quick to look away.
days were spent in the archery clearing. while jake was learning how to ride a direhorse with neytiri â who got stuck with training a demon of her own under orders from her father â you were stuck every day in that clearing with tsuâtey. he resorted to drawing in the dirt to pass the time as you missed target after target.
there was only so much bad luck someone could have, right? surely, you were just getting it all out now. one big awful week of it.
tsuâtey paced behind you as you drew your arm back. all day you had spent out in the glaring sun. not one time did you hit the target. instead, you hit everything around it.
seriously, you had to have been mentally deficient.
âbreathe.â tsuâtey said.
you took a breath and held it. you focused. you closed one eye and honed in one the wooden board with a big yellow dot on it. you exhaled slowly. in the stillness between breaths, you shot the arrow.
patuk!
dead in the center of the yellow dot, your arrow pierced the board. the yellow and green calling card waved as the arrow rattled.
âah!â you gasped, your eyes wide. âoh, my god!â
âyes!â tsuâtey exclaimed.
you turned to him and threw your arms up. you nearly screeched with joy as he hooked his arms around your waist and lifted you up. you hugged him tight as he yipped with excitement. he placed you back on the ground and cupped your face.
âyou did it!â he said with a wide smile.
âi did it!â you giggled.
âdo it again.â he encouraged, nudging your waist.
your smile dropped. âuhâŚâ
âcome on,â tsuâtey turned you around and urged you to raise the bow. âyou can do it. breathe and shoot.â
you pulled an arrow out from behind your back and loaded the bow. you breathed deep and focused on the target. you let the arrow fly free and it narrowly missed.
you frowned.
âno, no. donât get discouraged. again. come on.â tsuâtey said, giving your back a soft pat. âyou can do it.â
you ignored how hot your face felt. you cleared your throat and shook out the nervous tension in your body. once more, you loaded an arrow into your bow. you kept your core tight. you kept your arm straight. you took a breathâ and you let it fly.
patuk!
the arrow landed just a little ways above the first.
you turned your head to meet his eyes and you couldnât help but smile. he smiled, too, and ran a gentle hand over your hair.
âwell done, tsamsiyu.â tsuâtey said.
you dipped your head.
since that day in the hunters burrow, tsuâtey had made an effort to be kinder. in the same regard, so had you. while you still bickered and he still called you a moron every chance he got, there was less turmoil between the two of you.
replacing it was tension.
heavy, painful tension that made every moment harder than it shouldâve been. no time was harder than when you would sit across from him and try you best to learn his language. you werenât hopelessâ but you werenât fluent.
you watched as he gestured to the space around you. you scrunched your nose and clenched as if you were pushing the word forward in your mind.
âfuck, i know this.â you muttered.
âyes. you do. iâve told you it fifty times.â tsuâtey said, continuing the gesture. he looked above. he looked below. he looked around.
âfraâu!â you gasped, pointing a finger at him. âfraâu! everything!â
tsuâtey grinned and nodded. he was quick to move onto the next word. he pursed his lips and whistled.
âfwefwi,â you said with a small laugh. âwhistle.â
tsuâtey whistled again and swayed his hand from side to side. your brows drew together and your shook your head at him. he repeated the action once more, whistling and he swayed his hand.
âwind?â you asked. when he rolled his eyes at you, you corrected yourself. âhufwe.â
âmn,â he nodded. âand if you were to say that it was a light wind?â
âhufwetsyĂŹp.â you said.
âgood.â he smiled. he beckoned your forward and you scooted closer to him. he dragged his finger across your lower lid. âwhat are these?â
ânari.â you answered. âeyes.â
he smacked you with his tail. âthis?â
you smacked him with yours. âkxetse. tail.â
he brushed his thumb across your lips. âand these?â
your mind went blank. staring at him, all you could do was blink. slowly, your lips curled into a smile as his did, too. he seemed to enjoy your sudden speechlessness.
âiâ i donât remember.â you said with a soft, bashful laugh.
he titled his head and cocked an eyebrow. âyou donât remember?â
you giggled and shook your head. âno, i donât.â
âcâmon,â tsuâtey purred. âyou know. you must know.â
your ears perked. hearing human slang come out of him was still so awe-striking. while his antics and habits rubbed off on you, yours rubbed off on him, too. you spent so much time together. little things like that were a reminder of just how much time you spent together.
âi donât remember. seriously, i donât. i think i have to touch your lips to remember.â you said with a small, devious little smile.
âohâŚâ tsuâteyâs eyes widened and his pupils dilated. he leaned forward and tried to suppress his smirk. âgo on then, skxawng.â
slowly, you traced the shape of his lips. your breath caught in your throat as you remembered how it felt to kiss him. meeting his eyes, you could almost see his thoughts.
he was thinking the same thing.
âlips.â you said. you shook your head. âi donât remember.â
âmeseyri,â tsuâtey said softly. his breath was warm against your fingers. âawstengyem meseyri. two lips.â
âmeseyri.â you repeated, gliding your fingers across the soft pinkish-purple skin of his lips.
tsuâtey pressed a soft kiss to the tips of your fingers.
you dropped your hand and pushed yourself forward, not being able to bare it another second. denying the pull between you the last few weeks had been torture. he grabbed your throat eagerly and tugged you into a kiss. a husky huff escaped him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he tugged at your waist, hoarding you closer.
your lips only got to meet for a moment before you heard the thundering of hooves.
tsuâtey pulled back and looked over the side of the towering root you were sat on. with the sun beginning to set, warriors and hunters began to return home. among them, jake and neytiri.
âcome,â tsuâtey said. he had begun speak small words and phrases in naâvi to help familiarize you with the language. âit is time to eat.â
reluctantly, you got up.
âhey!â jake waved as you entered the dining circle. he was sat by himself waiting for you. unlike tsuâtey who would sit with you at dinners, neytiri had never once sat with jake.
although, tsuâtey had stopped sitting with you now that jake was around.
he gave your arm a soft squeeze before parting ways with you. sitting down in front of jake, you smiled. there was always relief in seeing him. especially since he looked pretty beat up, too, after a day of trying to ride a direhorse. it made you feel better to know that even a marine got bucked off.
ârough day?â you asked with a teasing smile.
ânah. not too bad.â jake said as he picked up a skewer of roasted meat. he took a bite and was quick to chew. âyour day?â
âlots of naâvi practice. my heads all jumbled with it.â you said as you picked up a fig-like fruit and took a bite of it. it tasted so sweet that it made your tail curl in delight. no fruit had ever been that sweet and delicious on earth.
when sat together, earth was something you and jake talked about often. comparing foods, flora, animals, and customs, you and jake could talk for hours about how different pandora was. how wonderful it was. how scary it was.
âyou know; in the end, i think coming in blind to all this may have been a good thing.â jake said as he chewed on the skewer like a toothpick. âi think if i had known half the stuff i know about this place, i wouldâve stayed home.â
âreally?â you asked, your brows raising. âi figured this was just your kinda place, marine.â
âwell, it is now that iâm here. especially now that im here in this place.â jake glanced around at the clan and smiled. âbut if i had been told there were actual fucking monsters and plants that could shock you and spray poisonâŚi definitely wouldâve passed on it.â
âmaybe i wouldâve, too, honestly. i got to study up on the language and the forest. conveniently, the RDA left out the palulukan and the nantang from my guide.â you sighed just a bit and you looked around, your eyes falling on someone sitting just close enough for you to see every detail of. âi think it more so boils down for me to missing things on earth rather than not wanting to be here.â
âwhat do you miss most?â jake asked.
âtv.â you sighed. the corner of your lip pulled into a smile. ânot so much the movies. grace has movies if we really wanted to watch them. iâm talking about television. shitty reality shows. documentaries of what earth used to be like when it was green. cooking shows. stuff like that.â
âi think i miss the sounds of the city the most. i miss the noise. here, itâs too quite. in hellâs gate, itâs too mechanical. up in the mountains, itâs all wind and nothing else.â jake said as he leaned back on his arms. he shrugged a bit. âi miss the sound of people. humans like us. cars beeping. distant laughter. high heels on concrete. tires on a rainy street. hell, even hearing people swear at each other.â
âi havenât thought about things like that being here.â you said. you glanced around. the chatter of the clan was filling to the earsâ but not in the way the bustle and hustle of earth was. in some way, you did miss it. especially the tires on a rainy street. that had soothed you to sleep your whole life.
âthatâs a good one.â you said as you met jakeâs eyes. you nodded. âi definitely miss things like that.â
âsometimes, i even miss the stink.â jake laughed lowly. he shook his head and tilted it back, smiling to himself. âitâs stupid but i brace myself for the smell of smog and gas every time i go outside here. i feel stupid, of course, but i almost miss the way the air would wreak.â
you laughed, too, and felt silly for understanding exactly what he meant. it was awful. it was disgusting. but it was home.
it had been home.
this was home now.
firelight and bioluminescence. blue skin and yellow eyes. fangs. monsters in the forest. floating mountains.
youâd always miss earth â some part of you would â but this was home.
jake was still new to the forests and the clan and home tree like you had once been. to him, it was foreign. to you, it was only more and more familiar as the days passed. you were beginning to make friends with the other hunters who had yet to pass iknimaya. saeyla was the kindest to you. she always said hi when she saw you. moâat was always happy to see you. eytukan dipped his head and was polite enough.
and then there was tsuâtey.
sometimes, it felt like he was the only thing that made the world go round.
âdid you eat enough?â tsuâtey asked as he walked you to your hammock.
âoh, yeah. iâm stuffed.â you said with a smile, patting your belly. you turned to say goodnight but the expression on his face stopped you. âwhat?â
âi overheard you and jakeâsuli,â tsuâtey said with a bit of reluctance. he wouldnât meet your gaze. âyou miss earth?â
your brows drew together and you felt hot with guilt.
oh, jesusâŚdid he think you wanted to leave?
you couldâve up-chucked your whole dinner.
âsometimes i do butâŚbut i donât want to go back.â you said as quickly as you could but the words nearly alluded you.
âbut you miss the sounds of your people.â tsuâtey looked into your eyes and his ears dropped. âand that is different from my people, yes? a city is not like this.â
ânoâŚno a city isnât like this. itâs loud. really loud. always loud.â you said with a small sigh. your shoulders dropped and you couldnât help but look around. âitâs always glowing. not like the forest glows but bright lights. so many lights. in order to sleep, i would have to close my blinds and sometimes even cover my face with my hoodie.â
âi prefer this.â you said as you placed your hand on his chest. he met your eyes and seemed to soften under your gaze. âthis is peace. earth so rarely knew peace. even though you hunt and craft by hand here, it was so much harder to survive on earth.â
âyou are happy, yes?â tsuâtey asked.
the question surprised you.
is that what he was worried about? your happiness?
âyes,â you whispered. your ears dropped but your tail swayed back and forth. the question touched you. deeply and wholly. âyes, of course. of course, iâm happy. truly.â
âthat is good. i was afraid thatâŚthat i made you feel like you did not belong.â tsuâtey said with shame lacing his voice.
you were speechless. all you could do was shake your head. he didnât make you feel that wayâŚ
âyou are different and that is trueâŚbut you do belong here.â tsuâtey placed his hand on your chest. âstrong heart. and it belongs right here.â
you laid awake that night in your bunk.
staring at the stars through the glass in the ceiling, your chest felt warm and fuzzy. in the dark, you smiled to yourself. his words had touched you. sometimes, it was hard to understand where you stood with tsuâtey. one day he couldnât stand you, the next he was all over you and drowning you in affection. he was strict and then he was easy going. he was mean and then he was kind.
sometimes, it gave you whiplash.
other times, it made you want to smack him and then kiss him before he could feel the pain.
tomorrow you may very well fall asleep wanting to smack him upside the head but tonight you wanted nothing more than a single kiss from him.
â đ â
âeris,â norm said, shaking you awake. âeris, get up.â
âhuh?â you picked your head up and tried to open your eyes. âwhatâs wrong?â
âeris, heâs outside.â
your heart dropped.
miles quaritch was outside.
you scrambled out of your bunk and hurried to throw on a decent pair of clothes. you slipped into jeans and pulled on an RDA issued shirt. you fixed your hair as best you could and stepped into your boots. as you hurried through the small tactical base, you nearly tripped over your own feet.
fuck.
were your video logs about archery training insufficient? of course, they were but you had no idea what you were doing. you had no idea how to gather the kind of intel that the head of security wanted.
you almost forgot to grab an oxygen mask before going into the airlock. thank god for trudy.
pushing open the heavy metal door, the morning breeze was cold so high up in the atmosphere. your breath was ragged and nearly fogged your mask. the helicopter outside wasâŚtrudyâs.
and grace was not standing with the colonel.
she was standing with him.
tsuâtey was unbelievably gigantic.
your heart couldâve stopped. your knees nearly gave out as his ikran screeched at you. he raised a gentle hand and stroked the creatures long face. yellow eyes flicked towards youâ and his pupils blew wide.
âiâll leave you two to talk.â grace said as she passed by you.
âno!â you wanted to beg, âdonât leave me alone with him!â
the door sealed shut and so had your fate.
slowly, you turned and his shadow swallowed you whole. with a yip, he sent his ikran away. the blue, white, and yellow patterned creature dove off the cliff and soared through the skies. tsuâtey tilted his head at you, his tail flicking behind him as you approached.
âwhatâ what the hell are you doing here?â you asked, your voice tight in your throat. âhowâŚhow the hell did youâŚhow did you find us?â
âthere is only one rock amongst the many that float with these on it.â tsuâtey said, flicking his head towards the field lab behind you.
âyou are small.â tsuâtey said as he crouched down. he smirked as you recoiled. âare you scared of me?â
âno,â you lied. you steeled your spine, trying to seem taller than you actually were. âyouâre justâŚbig.â
big was an understatement. he was over ten feet tall and you were lucky to be the height you were.
tsuâteyâs tail swayed through the grass. if it hit you, it probably wouldâve bruised you. it may have been able to break a rib. he seemed mindful of that fact as you stared at it.
âwhat are you doing here?â you asked as you looked back up into his eyes. even when he was crouched you had to tilt your head back.
âi have come to learn about you.â tsuâtey said. he crawled forward to be closer and sat down in front of you. finally, you were somewhat level. âyou spend all day and all night with meâŚit is only fair i come to you.â
âiâŚâ you didnât even know what to say. your head was spinning. it was hard to breathe even with oxygen being pumped right into your face. âthere isnât much to do hereâŚyou wonât fit inside the field lab easily. you wouldnât be able to breathe well, either. itâs all oxygen in there. besides, itâs crowded.â
âcan we not sit here?â tsuâtey asked with a small tilt of his head.
âwe canâŚbut itâs justâ itâs cold.â you whispered, drawing your arms in close around you. you shouldâve grabbed a sweater or a hoodie.
âcome,â tsuâtey motioned for you to sit in his lap. âyou will be warm here.â
âohâ oh, my god, no.â you said. you looked away as red filled your cheeks. âthe whole crew is no doubt watching us through the window. i canât just sitâŚthere.â
tsuâtey looked passed you. sure enough, they were all watching. they were quick to scramble but they couldnât go far. there was little privacy. jake would link soon. so would norm and graceâ if grace decided not to study her samples and log her findings. and trudy would justâŚdo whatever trudy did to pass the time.
âcan i take you somewhere?â tsuâtey asked with an edge of caution to his voice.
ânope.â you refused. shaking your head and wiggling a finger at him, you said, âabsolutely not. my fragile human ass stays put.â
tsuâtey huffed under his breath and pursed his lips. âalways so difficult.â
âif you really wantedâŚwe could use the west wing. itâs for bunking and itâs not going to be full at this hour now that everyone is up. i can see if grace can find a way for you to breathe.â you said with a small shrug.
tsuâtey seemed apprehensive to be stuck inside a small metal box but he flicked his head.
you were quick to hurry inside. within a few minutes, grace had made a reversed oxygen mask for tsuâtey. it was janky and if it didnât work well heâd have to go back outside, but she had filled a larger oxygen canister with pandoran air and found a spare mouth-and-nose mask she connected to it.
tsuâtey clearly regretted his choices as he crawled through the front door. you were quick to guid him straight to the west wing. the ceiling was a bit taller there because of the bunks, so he didnât have to keep his head hunched over so much.
âhey, watch the tail.â trudy said.
tsuâtey tucked his tail. he was quick to slide himself into the bunk room. you closed the door behind him and rested your forehead against it. you sighed. your heart was racing. slowly, you turned. when you did, you found him staring at the wall decorated with pictures of your life on earth. posters of your favorite animals. cities. pictures of you and your parents. pictures of your sister.
âiâm the one on the left,â you said as you pulled you mask off. carefully, you brushed your hair out of your face.
âi know.â tsuâtey said, gently touching the photo. he looked at you and his pupils dilated. âi know you, eris.â
you let out a soft breath. he reached down and lifted the mask to his face, inhaling slowly. unlike you, he could breathe oxygen for a while. not forever but longer than you could breathe his air.
âi did not think you would look so much like you.â tsuâtey said as you approached. while he sat on the floor, you sat on the bed. jakeâs bunk.
you shrugged and shook your head. âta-da?â
tsuâtey grinned at you even though he did not quite understand what it was that you meant. âta-da, yes.â
âsoâŚâ you smacked your hands on your thighs and exhaled softly. âwhat do you wanna do?â
âi want to know what tivee is.â tsuâtey said. he looked around the room and tried to pin point what may have been tv. âi heard you tell jakeâsuli you missed it and i want to see why.â
you shook your head. âi donât think i should.â
âwhy not?â tsuâtey asked, his invisible brows drawing together.
âbecause you may like it too much and start an industrial revolution like the RDA is trying to do.â you said with a soft laugh.
âi do not know what you just said but i want to see tv.â tsuâtey insisted.
you sighed. there was little point in saying no. getting up off of the bed, you walked around him. he turned, being mindful not to knock into anything. he watched as you crouched down to plug in the chord. you pressed the button on the bottom and the screen filled with static.
âit may not even work.â you said over your shoulder.
you flicked through the tapes grace had in box and pulled out the most fitting one. star wars: return of the sith. tsuâtey scooted closer as the movie began. you took a seat beside him and used the remote to turn up the volume. as the opening credits rolled, the music made his ears perk.
âwhat does it say?â tsuâtey asked, watching the yellow letters roll across the screen. he brought the mask to his mouth and took a deep breath.
you read the preface of the movie to him and did your best to explain what it all meant. you knew it was lost to him but he was fixated anywaysâ especially when humans appeared on the screen. he was transfixed.
âdid you have that?â tsuâtey asked, pointing to the flying car on the screen.
you laughed and shook your head. âat the time this movie came out, flying cars didnât exist. in my time, i didnât have enough money.â
he looked down at you.
none of it made sense.
âno,â you said with a small smile. âi didnât have a flying car.â
he nodded and turned his attention back to the screen. you sat in silence as you watched the movie. every now and again he lifted the mask to his mouth to take a breath. he would ask a question here and there. it amazed himâ but he did not understand much of what was said. soon enough, he wasnât quite seeing the point of a movie.
âwhy do you watch stuff like this?â he asked.
âfor fun.â you said with a small shrug. âhumans really value entertainment. star wars is one of the biggest movie series ever. very well loved.â
âdo you like this movie?â he asked with a curious tilt of his head.
you gave him your honest answer.
once more, it fell silent between you. you watched the movie with a sense of nostalgia weighing heavy on your heart. this was the first time youâd actually sat and watched anything since youâd arrived on pandora. it was comforting yet so foreign at the same time.
âcan i touch your hair?â
you looked up at him, your eyes wide and your cheeks red. you had not expected that question. all you could do was blink.
âsureâŚâ you whispered.
so carefully you werenât sure if he even touched you, tsuâtey ran his hand over the top of your head. his ears perked and his tail swished against the metal floor.
âsoftâŚâ he murmured, purely infatuated. âdifferent than mine. soâŚthin. like very fine twine strings.â
âwell, you are like twelve feet tall.â you said with a small laugh. he couldâve easily crushed you in the palm of his hand if he wanted to. âeverything about you is bigger than me.â
âyour chest is big.â tsuâtey said, looking down at your breasts.
you couldnât help but laugh. nodding, you said, âyeah. i told you, human women have bigger chests than naâvi women.â
âcan i touch?â he asked, extending a hand towards you.
you were quick to cover your breasts and gawked at him. âno! are you crazy?â
âwhy not?â tsuâtey asked. he moved closer to you and tilted his head. now more so than ever, he was entirely cat-like. it took looking at him through human eyes to see it. âis it because you are in this body and not your naâvi one?â
âyeah,â you breathed, looking away from him.
he pursed his lips the smallest bit. âcan i kiss you?â
âjesus christ, are you in heat or something?â you asked.
âno, not now.â he said. he shrugged and flicked his head towards you. âi am justâŚcurious. i want to kiss you as you and see if it is the same.â
âjust a kiss?â you glanced at him.
âjust one.â he nodded, sitting on his hands as if to promise you he wouldnât do anything more than that.
slowly, you pushed yourself up. standing in front of him, you were level enough. your heart raced in your chest as he stared at you. he took in every movement you made. he tensed as you neared and that made you even more nervous.
âthis is weirdâŚâ you said, pulling back the smallest bit.
âno,â he insisted. he reached out a hand that ghosted along the small curve of your back. âitâs not.â
you swallowed your embarrassment alongside your pride as you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss onto his lips.
sparks shot through you from your head to your toes.
when you pulled back, his pupils were so large you could hardly see the yellow of his eyes. his tail smacked into the metal frame of the bunk bed and thumped wildly against the floor. as your cheeks reddened and reddened and reddened his ears perked up and up and up.
âwhy are you red?â he asked softly.
âiâm flusteredâŚâ you whispered.
tsuâtey smiled. âit was good.â
âit was good,â you said with a small, quick nod.
âagain?â he asked, leaning forward. âto make sure.â
you couldnât help but laugh.
he smiled as you reached up and placed your hands on his face. he dipped his head down and kissed you again, softly and sweetly. kisses like these were much different from how he kissed you when you were the same size and same blue shade.
âgood,â he purred. his lips curled into a smile as he reached down to pull the mask to his face. he took a few deep breaths. âvery good.â
you could only watch him in awe. you sat down in front of him and tried to wipe the blush from your cheeks. of course, it didnât work. not even a little bit. he hunched over to be more level with you and it made you giggle.
he was just too big.
too large.
too handsome.
he was even more striking to the human eye.
you sat quietly as he picked up your hand and examined your five little fingers. he was intrigued by your pinky. to him, it was an extra pinky. with his four thick fingers, your hand seemed so frail and dainty. he touched the lines of your palm and smiled to himself as you shivered at the sensation.
âit is strange,â tsuâtey said lowly. âhow you are so different and still so the sameâŚi thought it would be hard to recognize you. hard to see you with this face and not that faceâŚbut it is not hard.â
you curled your whole hand around his index finger and pulled it close. you placed his hand on your chest. your heart beat below his palm. he met your eyes and his ears perked. it made you smile.
âi see you.â you whispered.
tsuâtey leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled to himself, enjoying the way your little heart beat so strong under the tips of his fingers as he neared.
âi see you,â he said like a promise.
this chapter was so much fun to write :P i love soft tsuâtey!!!! hope you guys enjoyed. lmk your thoughts <3 as always, thanks for reading!! â moony
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