My Dearly Detested
Status: Part Four(7 part Mini-Series, 4/7)
Genre: Enemies to Lover troupe, ANGST, Rude Neteyam, Comforting Lo’ak, some fluff, Romance, violence.
Warnings: Depictions of blood, Battles and cursing. Rude Neteyam😭. Reader is older then Neteyam by 1 year.
Parings: Neteyam X Y/n (Reader)
Summary: Neteyam hates Y/n. He never liked how she always bested him in everything and never once sought the praises he was accustomed to. She had no one, yet she had everyone in the palm of her hand. He despised her, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. The but happens when the RDA threat comes and Jake tasks her with watching his sons? Neteyam can’t help but grow a newfound hatred.
Word count: 4.5k (A/N: I'm so sorry.....this is YEARS late but I still hope you guys enjoy it !)
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The forest had gone too quiet.
Lo’ak froze his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows. His bow hovered in his hands, muscles tense and ears twitching at every sound. Tuk’s tiny fingers curled tighter around Y/N’s palm, the little girl’s wide eyes glimmering with fear. Kiri murmured soothingly beside her, but even her words couldn’t completely mask her own unease.
“It’s fine,” Y/N whispered, forcing a calm tone. Her leg throbbed painfully with every step, the bandaged wound protesting with each movement. She subtly shifted her weight, hiding the limp and masking the pain. She had to; she was their shield not the weakness.
Inside, Y/n was anything but fine. She should have tied Lo’ak up for having such a ridiculous idea. But being cooped up in recovery took a toll on her, mentally. She needed the fresh air; she needed to stop replaying Neteyam ‘s words from the tent repeatedly. She needed to breathe.
“Lo’ak, Spider… let’s go.” Y/N hissed softly, tugging Kiri and Tuk along with her. She kept her voice low, sharp and commanding. The boys hesitated at first, their excitement battling against caution. They wanted to explore, to figure out who those Avatar soldiers really were. But Y/N’s glare was fierce even with the limp and it was enough to make them follow.
They took a few careful steps into the underbrush when Y/N’s ears twitched sharply. Her breath caught.
A snap, a thin and precise crack, broke the fragile quiet of the forest.
And then, from the shadows they emerged weapons raised, shouts echoing the forest.
Spotlights tore through the trees, slicing the canopy into jagged lines of blinding light. Before anyone could scatter, hulking figures dropped down from above. Blue-skinned, menacing, and armed to the teeth. Recom soldiers.
“Run!” Y/N shoved Lo’ak hard, shoving Kiri after him, but one of the soldiers was already behind her. One grabbed Tuk making Y/n let out an alarmed yell, her arms reaching out to grab the little girl back. A thud landed behind her and before she could whip out her blade or even react, a meaty hand slammed her into the ground, knee grinding into her injured thigh.
A white-hot flash of pain ripped through her.
“Four fingers… we got a half-breed,” one of the soldiers said with a puff of amusement, lifting Kiri’s small hands against her desperate protests.
Y/N’s chest tightened. They knew. They knew Kiri was a half-breed, which meant they knew whose children these were. And that made all of them dangerous.
Mustering all her strength Y/n pushes against the avatar holding her, hissing as she kicks him off balance just as one of the soldiers demands to see Lo’ak ‘s hands. Y/n bolts to cover Tuk again, only to be tackled to the ground harshly.
“Stop! Let her go!” Lo’ak’s voice cracked, straining against the soldier who caught him. “Leave her alone!” Kiri shrieked. Tuk burst into tears, thrashing in another’s grip.
Quaritch stepped forward, helmet gleaming under the harsh floodlight, his smirk cold and calculated. He towered over Y/n like a predator surveying its prey.
“Well, what do we have here?” His voice dripped with mockery. “You are not a little Sully brat…” His eyes raked over her, sharp and appraising. “You’re older. A warrior, huh? Pretty thing like you doesn’t look so tough on the ground.”
The boot pressed harder into her injured leg, and a searing wave of pain shot up her thigh. White-hot agony clawed at her lungs.
Y/N gritted her teeth, jaw locking as her ears flatten against her head. Her fingers scrabbled against the dirt, trying to push herself up. She shoved with all her strength, twisting against the soldier holding her down, but his weight pinned her mercilessly.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she spat through clenched teeth, fangs bared in a hiss. Pain seared through every fiber of her body, but she refused to let it show. Her vision blurred at the edges, Tuk’s wailing somewhere distant. But she didn’t break. She couldn’t. Not in front of them.
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The Ikrans landed with precision, barely rustling the leaves beneath them. Neteyam hopped down, bow slung over his shoulder, his expression forced into a mask of stoicism. He took a tentative step forward, but Jake’s voice cut through the air.
“No. No. Stay with Ikran.”
Frustration and self-doubt surged through him. He was being benched, again. Was it because he wasn’t good enough? His shoulders slumped, anger simmering beneath his calm facade.
“Dad, I’m a warrior like you-I’m supposed to fight-”
“Neteyam,” Neytiri interrupted softly, her eyes gentle but laced with quiet worry.
“I’m not saying it again,” Jake says steely before turning to leave.
Neytiri casts one last pleading glance at him, silently urging him to obey his father’s command. Neteyam growled softly under his breath, his pride pricked but he took a step back toward his Ikran, forcing his posture into compliance.
“Yes, sir,” he grated, his voice low. His Ikran purred, attuned to the tension radiating from her rider.
Then, the image of Y/N looking all soft and vulnerable, bandaged and weak in the Tsahik’s tent blasted through his mind. ‘No….not again’
Without another thought, Neteyam spun on his heel. His legs propelled him forward with a precision born of instinct, every muscle coiled for the fight. His siblings and Spider were in danger..and Y/N…
The chaos of battle erupted in an instant. Arrows whistled through the night air, gunfire cracked against trees, and Neytiri’s war cry split the darkness as she cut through the RDA soldiers with merciless precision.
Neteyam’s bow came up almost automatically. His arrows found gaps in the enemy’s formation, his movements fluid and deadly as he covered his father. Heart hammering, mind clear, he didn’t hesitate, he couldn’t. After ensuring that his father and mother had his siblings covered, his eyes landed on her.
Y/N.
Pinned. Bleeding. Her face set in defiance as a soldier’s boot crushed her leg delivery. Pulling small whimpers of pain out of her pursed lips. His chest burned. Fury coiled so hot it nearly choked him. ‘Stay back? Not this time.’
Silent as the shadows, he scaled a massive root above the chaos. His bow sang; arrows found their marks with deadly precision, tearing through the RDA soldiers before they could react. Then he dropped down from above, blade flashing, tearing another away from Y/N with a growl of pure anger.
She gasped as the crushing weight lifted from her leg, blood soaking the bandages anew. Her vision blurred from pain and relief alike, and when she blinked up, he was there.
Neteyam, looming over her like a storm, eyes wild and every muscle taut with controlled fury.
“You’re done touching her,” he growled, driving his blade into the soldier’s side before yanking it free in a brutal arc.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed too just them. His hand closed around her arm, hauling her up, steadying her against his chest. His breath was ragged, almost panicked, but his golden eyes flicked down to her bandaged thigh, scanning the damage.
“You’re with me,” he ordered, voice low, fierce not a suggestion. He half-dragged, half-supported her toward his Ikran.
Y/N pushed back slightly, grimacing, stubborn even in pain. “I’m not that weak,” she spat, attempting to pry herself from his hold. Her shame makes her lash out. She couldn’t protect them and had to be saved by him.
Neteyam let out a sharp, almost amused hiss as his eyes narrow. “Weak? You’re bleeding like a fool and getting yourself kidnapped, how heroic.” His words were harsh, but there was an edge of something softer lurking beneath the sarcasm.
“I’m fine!” she snapped, teeth gritted. “I can handle myself!”
His grip tightened slightly, not letting her pull away. “Yeah? Handle yourself next time without nearly dying on me,” he muttered, dragging her through the chaos, arrows whizzing past them. “Heroes don’t whine when they get pinned, Y/N… but apparently, you do.”
She scowled, cheeks flushing from both pain and irritation. “You think this is funny?”
“Funny?” he hissed, letting a dangerous smirk tug at his lips despite the chaos around them. “I think you’re lucky I’m not letting these idiots finish you off.”
Her heart hammered as he steered her toward the Ikran. Pain, fury, and something far more complicated twisted together in the charged silence between them.
The forest whipped past in streaks of green and gold as the Ikran cut through the sky. Y/N squirmed in Neteyam’s arms, every jolt sending fire up her thigh.
“Neteyam, I can ride myself-”
“You can barely stand,” he snapped, tightening his grip until she could feel his heartbeat hammering against her back. “Stop fighting me.”
Her head tilted, trying to catch his expression over her shoulder, but his jaw was clenched so tight she thought his teeth might break. His arms caged her in, one hand curled around the reins, the other locked around her waist like letting go would kill him.
“I don’t need-”
“Don’t say it.” His voice was sharp, cracking like a whip. “Don’t you dare say you don’t need me. Not after what just happened.”
The words slammed into her harder than the wind. For a moment, Y/N went still, feeling the tremor in his chest, the unsteady rhythm of his breath.
Beneath the anger, there was fear.
But Neteyam didn’t look at her. He just flew harder, faster, like he could outrun the image of her pinned and bleeding under a soldier’s boot.
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The moment their feet hit the ground at High Camp, Neteyam didn’t give her a chance to slip away. Neteyam watched his parents walk off with his siblings. Just as they are a good distance away, he snaps his gaze towards Y/n, who was slowly trying to walk off with her limp.
His hand clamped around her wrist without a second thought, dragging her into the shadows behind a cluster of woven tents.
“Neteyam-”
He spun, pressing her against the canvas of a tent, pinning her with a glare so sharp it could cut stone. His chest heaved as if he’d sprinted the entire way from the battle, every muscle taut, every breath ragged. His blood pumped with a storm of emotions, but fury had taken the lead.
“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice came low and sharp, but loud enough that she stiffened. “Running at them like that, with your leg-do you have a death wish?” His gaze burned through her, catching how her ears flattened in slight submission at his tone.
Her jaw tightened. “I was protecting your siblings. That’s my duty.” she said, voice steady despite the ache in her thigh and the rapid beat of her heart.
Neteyam’s grip on her wrist didn’t loosen. Fury and something far more complicated tangled inside him, swirling into a raw searing tension. “Your duty?” he spat, every syllable a blade. “Your duty isn’t to play martyr! You’re supposed to survive. You’re supposed to be smart, not throwing yourself in the line of fire while I… while I can’t do a damn thing to stop it!”
Her chest rose and fell quickly, anger flaring despite the pain. “And what? Sit there while your siblings get hurt? Let them fend for themselves? That’s cowardice, Neteyam. You know it! They are my responsibility”
“My siblings?” he echoed, incredulous. He stepped closer, forcing her back against the woven wall. “You think it’s just your job? You think you’re the only one who cares if they live or die?”
Her throat bobbed, but she refused to look away. “I can handle myself.”
“You couldn’t handle him!” Neteyam’s voice cracked, raw, and for a moment his fury looked too much like fear. “I saw him-he had you on the ground, his boot on your leg….” He let go of her wrist, his hand fisted at his side. “And you just… you just took it. Like it didn’t matter what happened to you.”
Something in her chest twisted.
“I’m not weak,” she whispered.
His gaze burned into her. “That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?” she shot back, shoving his shoulder with little force. “That you’re angry because I didn’t scream? Because I didn’t break down like some helpless child? That I don’t need you to swoop in and save me?”
“Yes!” The word tore out of him, raw abrupt and unguarded. His fists slammed against the tent post behind her, trapping her in the cage of his arms. His forehead nearly pressed to hers and it came impossibly close to hers. Her heart hammered against her chest as a soft gasp escaped her, her eyes meeting his. His eyes were bright and wild searching her face like the answer was carved into her skin.
“Yes,” he breathed again, softer this time and almost broken. “Because I need you to need me, Y/N. And you never do.”
The air thickened. Her chest tightened, pulse hammering. For a heartbeat he looked like he might actually admit something… but then his jaw snapped shut as if recollecting himself, and the words caught somewhere, unsaid.
She tried to speak. “I… I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t,” he barked, shaking his head. “Don’t start apologizing. You’re stubborn. Reckless. And apparently… suicidal.” His teeth gritted, nostrils flaring.
“I-” she began, voice trembling. “I only did what I had to… for your siblings-”
“Stop,” he hissed, cutting her off again his voice sharp amd almost venomous. “Don’t make this about anyone but you. I don’t care about your excuses. You think you can handle everything. You think you can do anything-like your invincible….You think I’ll just… sit back?”
Her ears flattened, throat tight. “I didn’t mean to-”
“You didn’t mean to?” he snapped, voice low and dangerous. “You’re impossible. Always so infuriating. Always trying to prove something! And still…” He trailed off, jaw tightening his eyes narrowing as if to stop himself before anything else.
She opened her mouth, but before anything could leave it-
“Neteyam! Y/N!”
Tuk’s little voice rang out, cutting through the haze. She peeked around the corner, eyes wide and wet. “Come quick!”
The spell shattered. Neteyam jerked back, running a hand through his braids, face flushing with something between rage and shame. Y/N pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
Without another word, they followed Tuk.
They crept near the Olo’eyktan’s tent, shadows stretching long in the flickering firelight. Inside, Neytiri’s voice rose, sharp and fierce, carrying across the clearing. Everyone huddled close, straining to hear.
“I cannot leave my people, I will not!” Neytiri’s voice rang out, unyielding.
“He’s hunting us… he is targeting our family-”
“You cannot ask this! The children, everything they’ve ever known… the forest-This is our home!”
“He had our children-he had ‘em under his knife!”
Neytiri stumbled, gripping the bow her father had given her as he lay dying. “My father gave me this bow… he said to protect the people-your Toruk Makto!”
Y/n froze, the words piercing her chest like sharpened arrows. They had to leave. For the children, for the people… for survival. The reality settled over her, heavy and undeniable.
“-Y/N, she was with the children, Ma’Jake… she was protecting Tuk!”
“They will hunt her,” Jake finished, his tone dark, edged with concern.
Lo’ak and Kiri gasped, turning toward Y/n their eyes wide with worry. Silence fell then-the kind that pressed against the chest, suffocating. Neteyam stiffened beside her, shoulders taut, jaw clenched. Y/n’s breath came heavy, her heart hammering in her ears.
“W-We will take her with us, Ma’Jake… for her safety. Please,” Neytiri pleaded, her voice quivering under the weight of fear and urgency.
Jake exhaled, grim and resigned. “We have no choice.”
Y/N’s stance faltered. She took a step back, as if struck. Leave? Her home… the only place that had ever felt like home after years of growing up alone. No parents, no one but her people… and now, she would have to abandon them, her world shrinking down to shadows and whispers. Her eyes flicked to the forest beyond, to Tarsem, to everything she loved-and everything she was about to lose.
Neteyam takes a step forward, every muscle coiled, ready to intercept her. A part of him worried she would collapse with her ragged breathing and panicked gaze. Neteyam’s jaw tight his eyes unreadable, but even he knew this isn’t something he can stop. Then, in a heartbeat, she’s gone.
Her legs screamed in protest as she sprinted across the camp, the bandage around her thigh straining with every step, blood blooming through the cloth. Pain radiates with each step, but she ignores it. She only knows one destination: Tarsem’s tent.
Inside, the soft flicker of firelight spills over familiar shapes and familiar warmth. Tarsem looks up from his maps and herbs, and his heart nearly stops. “Y/n! what-”
She collapses into his arms before she can form a single coherent word. Her sobs wrack her body, shuddering against his chest, and for a long moment, she can’t even breathe through the weight of everything she’s holding inside. Tarsem’s hands are firm but gentle, cradling her head against his shoulder, murmuring over and over, “Shh… it’s okay… it’s okay…I’m here-”
Y/N trembled against him, words catching in her throat. “They… they came for the kids… Lo’ak… Kiri… Tuk…” Her explanation comes out in broken, hurried fragments, words tumbling over. Her sobs broke, and she clutched at Tarsem like she might be torn apart if she let go. “I tried to stop them… I thought I could-”
“You did stop them, you brought them back” Tarsem murmured softly his hands gentle but firm on her shoulders, tilting her face up to meet his. His voice was soft, yet steady a tether to calm in the storm of her panic. “You fought like a warrior, Y/n. You kept them safe.”
“I… I didn’t…” she choked out. Her ears flattened back, shame and exhaustion mixing with pain as she looked up at him. “I almost got… killed. I-I can’t…They know me now…. I can’t stay-.”
Tarsem froze, her words cutting sharper than any blade. His hands tightened slightly around her, not in anger but in disbelief. “What do you mean?” His gaze furrowed “You’re leaving? You can’t just….this is your home. Your family-”
“I have to,” she whispered, head shaking against his chest. “For our leader…the kids. For everyone. If we stay… we’ll all die, they’ll haunt us down…track us…Tarsem. I can’t let that happen.” Her voice was small, yet underlined with iron resolve.
Tarsem’s face fell, shadows of worry and sorrow deepening. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, seeing both the bravery and the heartbreak mirrored there. “You… you can’t just leave,” he said slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. His hands lingered on her shoulders, unwilling to let go. “This is the only home you’ve known… the only place you’ve had after… after everything. I-I….I can’t lose you.”
“I know…I’m sorry” she whispered, swallowing hard. The words weighing heavy on her heart like stones.
Tarsem’s chest tightened, and he lowered his forehead to hers. “I don’t like it,” he said bluntly, voice thick with restrained emotion. “I don’t like any of this. But… if it’s what must be done… I’ll help you. Just… come back. Promise me- you’ll come back.”
Y/N nodded, tears streaking her face. “I’ll try,” she whispered, clinging to him as if the act itself could slow the inevitable.
Outside the tent, barely audible over the wind, Neteyam’s shadow lingered. He leans against the post silently, arms crossed. His eyes sweep over her small, trembling form in Tarsem’s arms, and something in his chest twists-anger, fear, guilt, something he refuses to name. He doesn’t step inside, doesn’t call out. He simply watches silently, as if trying to memorize the moment without letting himself feel too much.
Then, the tent flap rustles. Jake’s voice cuts through the quiet, firm but edged with something unnamed. “Tarsem. I need a word.”
Tarsem exhales slowly, not releasing Y/n just yet. “I’ll be right there,” he murmurs, glancing down at her, willing her to calm even as his mind braces for whatever conversation is coming.
Y/N rests her head against his chest, her sobs quieting into shuddering breaths, and for a fleeting moment, she allows herself to be small and protected, even as the weight of the world presses in from outside the tent.
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They had all gathered beneath the towering spirit tree, its roots sprawling like veins through the heart of the clan. Silence pressed heavily over the gathering, broken only by low murmurs of grief and the occasional shuffle of feet against the forest floor. Jake stood tall at the center, Neytiri at his side, the Sully children huddled close, seeking the comfort of their parents.
Y/N lingered a little apart, her bound leg throbbing with every shift of weight. Her jaw was set, ears flat eyes scanning the faces of the people she had fought alongside, the people she considered family. Her gaze lingered on Tarsem, whose broad shoulders were squared as he stepped forward, but the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his fear.
Mo’at’s voice rose in solemn cadence, weaving the ceremonial ritual as she transferred the garbs from Jake to Tarsem. When the moment came, Tarsem led the ritual, laying the blade lightly across Jake’s chest-a symbolic ‘death’ of the past leader. The edge barely grazed, leaving a faint red streak, yet the weight of the act pressed down on everyone present. Tarsem’s eyes flickered toward Y/n, her own brimming with unshed tears a quiet plea for strength.
Slowly, deliberately, Tarsem accepted the mantle, chin trembling as he bore the burden of leadership. The clan murmured their consent, voices threaded with sorrow and respect. Every word felt like a jagged stone pressing against Y/n’s chest.
She couldn’t stop herself from glancing toward Neteyam. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the ground, posture rigid with a tension she could almost feel across the space between them. Y/n’s throat burned, a lump rising as the reality sank in-her home, the people who had taken her in, clothed and fed her, fought beside her, were slipping away, piece by piece. The weight of it all pressed down like the roots of the spirit tree itself, heavy and unyielding, leaving her feeling untethered in the place she had always called home.
The ceremony ended with the clan bowing their heads, offering silent blessings for the Sullys’ journey. One by one, people turned away, unable or unwilling to watch them leave.
Just as the Sully family began to walk off, Y/n broke into a run, limping over to Tarsem. His awaiting arms caught her, holding her tightly burying his face into her neck as if anchoring himself against the pain of her leaving.
“T-Thank you…for everything. I love you,” Y/N whispered, voice trembling. Her ears flattening in submission as she clung to him.
Tarsem pressed her closer, fighting back a choked sob. “This isn’t goodbye,” he said, voice steady but raw. “You…and the Sullys…you’ll come back. You will come back to us, to me…And I’ll wait for that day.” His words carried the weight of a leader and the warmth of a brother, a protector, a home. “I love you Y/n…. You mean so much to us. Please come back”
Y/N pulled back reluctantly, brushing tears from her cheeks. “I’ll try…I’ll see you soon,” she murmured before falling in step with the Sullys, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead.
She lingered for a heartbeat at the edge of the clearing, catching sight of Neteyam. His shoulders were stiff, hands clenched at his sides, standing apart from his family. His jaw was tight; lips pressed in a thin line of barely restrained anger.
She hesitated, then stepped closer.. “Neteyam—”
He cut her off, his voice low and bitter.
“You must be happy.”
Y/N froze. “What?”
He spun on her, eyes hard, flames of frustration and humiliation dancing in their depths. “I lost my birthright. My place. Everything I’ve trained for… gone. And you… you must enjoy this, don’t you? Watching me stripped down to nothing.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
He took a step closer, each word sharp as a blade. “You always said I couldn’t protect anyone. Thought someone who is younger then you by a year would never be strong enough. That I wasn’t enough. And now-look at me. Pathetic.”
Her chest tightened, fury and grief mingling into a bitter heat. “Don’t you dare,” she spat, ears flat in tension. “You think I wanted this? I’m losing my home, Neteyam. Everything I’ve known is gone. You think you’re the only one bleeding tonight?”
For a flicker of a heartbeat, something softened in his eyes. But then he twisted the knife deeper, voice venomous.
“At least you never had anything to lose,” he snapped, eyes cold. “Your family isn’t leading a clan. You’re not anyone’s heir, Y/n. You’ve spent your whole life as an extra… a shadow on the sidelines. And now? You’ll just be another orphan trailing after us. Like a stray we couldn’t shake.”
The words struck like an arrow to the gut, twisting inside her. Y/n’s breath hitched, her hands curling into fists as if she could squeeze the ache away. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. ‘Maybe he’s right’, a tiny, cruel whisper echoed in her mind. ‘I’ve always been on the edges. Nobody. Just a shadow of the clan, clinging to scraps of family I never really had…’
Her chest tightened, grief and shame mingling with anger. Tarsem’s parents had taken her in, fed her, protected her. She had found a home here-but had it ever truly been hers? Or had she always been an outsider looking in, living in the spaces that others left behind?
Finally, her lips parted her voice breaking. “Go to hell, Neteyam.”
The words were venom, but hollow. They didn’t erase the ache, didn’t soothe the truth that had always gnawed at her. She forced herself to stand straighter, to shove down the sting of tears that pricked her eyes.
Then Tuk’s voice rang across the clearing, pulling her back from the spiral of guilt and self-doubt. “Come on, they’re waiting!”
Y/N turned sharply, shoulders rigid setting her jaw. She mounted her Ikran, forcing her gaze forward, away from him. Every muscle ached-not just from her injury, but from the truth in his words, the reminder of all she had never had. She connects with her Ikran, the beast letting out a strangled cry as if feeling her raw internal sorrow.
As they lifted into the night sky, the glowing forest shrinking below, she didn’t look back. But her chest felt hollow, as if his words had burned straight through her. The ghost of every parentless night, every stolen moment of belonging, clung to her heart like a shadow she couldn’t shake.
Neteyam sat rigid on his own mount. A flicker crossed his features-just a shadow of it-guilt. He had gone too far. He knew it. But pride, frustration, and the sting of loss twisted him, keeping his apology unspoken. His eyes lingered on her retreating figure, and for a moment, it wasn’t fury or anger he felt-it was regret, raw and bitter.
For the first time, he hated himself more than he hated her.
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AN: I hope you all enjoyed! I'm slowly working through my old/new fics, thank you so much for understanding! (please excuse any typo's/grammar i may have missed!)