Hi!Could you write a sad fanfic?For example,the reader is the eldest daughter in the family.Therefore, she's older than Neteyam and responsible for the younger children.Jake raised her as a warrior and is very strict with her,unlike the other children. For example,he treats Kiri with a special tenderness, more than he does his own daughter.This deeply hurts the reader, but she doesn't show it. So,during the war,Jake entrusts her with protecting the younger children,which results in the reader's death.I need to cry because I still haven't recovered from Neteyam's death💔
Built for War
Awwww this idea really made me cry😭. I hope it doesn't make you cry (actually it does, so I'm not the only one who had to cry)
Have fun reading ✨
Masterlist
You were his first child, the one who came before the others softened him, before he learned how to kneel when someone cried instead of telling them to stand.
Jake Sully did not know how to be a father when you were born, he only knew how to be a soldier, so that is what he made of you.
From the time you could walk steadily, he placed a bow in your hands. From the time you could climb, he told you not to look down. When you fell, he did not rush forward in panic like other fathers might have, he stood back, arms crossed, watching with sharp eyes that measured strength instead of fear.
“Get up,” he would say, and you always did. You learned quickly that praise from him did not come in soft smiles or warm embraces. It came in nods. In fewer corrections. In silence that meant you had done well enough.
Then Neteyam was born, and something shifted not in you, but in him. He was still strict, still commanding, but with Neteyam there was pride that felt warm instead of heavy.
When Neteyam succeeded, Jake’s voice carried approval. When he failed, Jake corrected him, yes, but with a hand on his shoulder and a steady reminder that he would do better next time.
With you, it was always expectation. “You are the oldest.” “You set the example.” “You don’t get to make mistakes like that.”
Lo’ak came next, and Jake’s frustration with him felt different too louder, but almost… forgiving. Lo’ak was reckless, and Jake scolded him for it, yet there was something in his tone that said he understood that recklessness, because it mirrored his own.
Kiri was treated with a tenderness that carved something quiet and painful inside your ribs. When she asked questions about Eywa, Jake crouched to meet her eyes. When she grew overwhelmed, he softened, voice low, patient in a way you could not remember him ever being with you.
And Tuk sweet, small Tuk wrapped around his finger so easily that sometimes you wondered if you had imagined the version of him that once lifted you into the air without worry about how strong you would become.
But you never complained. Because you were the firstborn.
You were the one who braided Tuk’s hair when her hands were too small to do it herself. You were the one who helped Neteyam practice late at night when he thought he was not good enough. You were the one who stood between Lo’ak and Jake when arguments burned too hot. You were the steady one, the reliable one, the one who did not cry when scolded.
Warriors do not cry. Warriors endure.
The night before the final battle, when the sky felt too quiet and the air carried the kind of stillness that comes before something terrible, Jake called you aside.
He did not ask if you were afraid. He did not tell you to stay safe. He simply looked at you with that assessing gaze and said, “You’re in charge of the younger ones. Keep them out of the fight unless it’s unavoidable.” There was trust in it. Heavy trust. The kind he had been building into you your entire life.
You straightened instinctively. “Yes, sir.” He placed his hand on your shoulder briefly, firm and grounding, and added, “You’re my strongest.” It was meant as pride, and maybe it was, but it felt like a burden settling more firmly across your back.
The battle was chaos, fire against water, screams swallowed by waves, gunshots splitting the sky. You moved through it the way he had trained you to move calculated, aware, always thinking three steps ahead. You kept Tuk close, directed Lo’ak with sharp gestures, reminded Kiri where to run and when to hide.
You were not thinking about yourself. You never did.
The moment comes in a blur a flash of metal, a split-second alignment of danger and innocence. The shot was meant for Neteyam. You see it in that strange way warriors sometimes do, where time stretches thin and clear. There is no hesitation in you. No weighing of cost.
You shove him aside. Pain tears through you, violent and blinding, and suddenly the world feels distant, as though you are underwater without having entered the sea.
You hit the sand, and it feels warm beneath you, too warm. Voices blur together. Tuk crying. Lo’ak shouting. Kiri praying. Neteyam is at your side first, his hands pressing desperately against the wound as though he can will your body to obey him.
“Stay with me,” he says, and it is almost ironic, because you have said those same words to him more times than you can count. You try to answer, but your voice feels thin. Then Jake is there.
He drops to his knees beside you with a force that shakes the ground, and for the first time in your life, he does not look like a leader or a warrior. He looks like a father. Terrified.
His hands press over yours, trying to stop what cannot be stopped, his voice breaking as he says your name again and again as if repetition alone could anchor you here. “You’re okay,” he insists, but the words tremble. “You’re okay.”
You look at him, and in his eyes you see something you have chased your entire life not expectation, not evaluation, but pure, raw love. “I tried,” you whisper, because that is what you have always done. Tried to be strong enough. Good enough. His face crumples in a way you have never seen.
“I know,” he says, voice shattering. “I know, baby.” The word hits harder than anything else. Baby.
You cannot remember the last time he called you that. You want to tell him you were not angry. You want to tell him you understood why he raised you the way he did. That maybe he had been trying to prepare you for a world that would not be gentle.
But the world grows dim around the edges. You feel your siblings close, their hands clutching at you as though they can keep you tethered through sheer will. Jake presses his forehead to yours, and his shoulders shake as he whispers apologies you can barely hear.
You protected them. You fulfilled the role he carved into you. And as the light fades, you realize that the only thing you ever truly wanted was this to be held like you were something fragile instead of forged.
After you are gone, the silence in the family feels unnatural, like something essential has been pulled from its center. Jake no longer speaks as sharply. He no longer demands perfection. He holds Tuk longer. He listens to Lo’ak without immediate correction. He answers Kiri’s questions with patience he once reserved only for her.
And sometimes, late at night, he sits alone with your bow resting across his lap, staring at the worn grip where your fingers once held tight, and he whispers into the quiet,
“I should have protected you.” But you were the firstborn.
Jake Sully Event Prompts: #7. Jake picks reader up as if she were light as a feather, #31. Jealous Jake/Jealous Reader
Word count: 2.1k
Pairing: Jake Sully x fem!metkayina!reader
Description: Tuk has another matchmaking success with you and Jake when she brings up the topic of tattoo's, especially how you admire the ones on the Olo'eyktan.
*Can be read as a standalone or as part of the Matchmaker Tuk series*
Based partially on this request!
Content Warnings: Ankle injury, Jealous Jake, a smidge of possessive Jake (?)
Author's note: Hehehe, I took the opportunity to merge a request with some of the prompts on the Jake Sully Challenge, #7. Jake picks reader up as if you were light as a feather and #31. Jealous Jake/Jealous Reader. I hope you enjoy it!
Na’vi Words used:
Sempu = Daddy
Tewti = Expression of surprise
Skxawng = Moron, idiot
“Look y/n! Look at Sempu!” Tuk squealed, running up to you and Lo’ak who were cleaning off your salt encrusted nets from the day outside of the Sully’s marui.
You dropped your net to the floor as Tuk ran up to lean on your knees. She shoved a bright orange, metal square into your hands that you had never seen anything like before. Your eyes narrowed as you noticed an image of a human man smiling at you. You were immensely confused.
“What is this, Tuktirey?” you asked the little girl.
“It is a human device. You can see images, videos, and get information from it,” Lo’ak explained, tapping the box and the man suddenly moved, making you jump in surprise.
Lo’ak laughed at your reaction and tapped it again to pause it. “This was dad, when he was human,” he continued.
“How does it capture moments in time?” you asked, wonder struck by the technology.
“That is not important! Look, Sempu has tattoo’s,” she squealed, hitting the box much harder than Lo’ak had, but the video played the same.
The human you now knew was Jake started talking again, “I guess this is my last video log, ‘cause whatever happens tonight, either way, I'm… I'm not gonna be coming back to this place."
You had never seen a human before, but your guesses had looked nothing like him. You had heard they were small, but that did not translate very well over the device, so you noticed his other details. His scruffy beard, his strangly shaped top and brown hair. He was not what you were used to looking at, but you found it endearing. He was odd looking, but not ugly.
Human Jake continued, "Well, I guess I'd better go, I don't want to be late for my own party. Yeah, it's my birthday, after all. This is Jake Sully signing-”. Lo’ak abruptly stopped the device as Jake waltzed up to you three, towering above your seated bodies. He shot his children a withering glare.
“Norm has been looking for that thing for the past half hour. What are you guys doing with it?” Jake asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
He was looking equal parts confused and angry at his daughter, but his eyes softened as she said, “I wanted to show her what you looked like as a human,” she muttered, explaining it as if it was obvious.
“Give it,” he demanded, reaching out a hand in Tuk’s direction.
She sighed dramatically, taking the device from your hands and giving it to her father. He looked at the image on the screen and winced.
“Sorry, I didn’t know she had it,” Jake apologized to you.
“It is okay, it was interesting seeing your human form,” you admitted. You had found his human self cocky and young, but even today he possessed the same swagger and confidence. He still had that gleam in his eye when he was up to no good.
You got up and walked over to him and reached over his arm to the device. “What does this mean?” You ask, pointing to the black ink on his right arm and he huffed out a laugh.
“Born Loser,” he said in English before he continued in Na’vi, “The Na’vi would say “'ongokx txanfwìngtu”. I got it right after I was discharged from the Marines,” he explained, looking down at the image in thought.
Your forehead wrinkled, “Why would you put such a mean thing on yourself?” you asked.
Jake met your gaze and shrugged, “I was a txanfwìngtu back then. Humans don’t need to have a reason to get a tattoo, they can just get one if they feel like.”
“That is strange, you go through no trials? You do not have to earn them through honor?” you asked, shocked at the customs of his old planet
“No, you just show up with something to trade and tell them what you want,” he nodded. You shook your head in wonder at the idea.
“She likes tattoos,” Tuk said and three heads all turned to her, “so I was showing her that you used to have them. She says that they make men more attractive!” Tuk explained as if her words made any real sense.
“Tuk I told you no such thing!” you exclaimed, your cheeks now flaming hot.
“But you told Tsuka that you thought Tonowari’s tattoo’s were handsome!” Tuk argued. “Or did you just mean that you thought Tonowari was handsome?”
Your eyes bugged out of your head, “I merely meant that a man with many tattoo’s must be a mighty warrior and have earned his title. Tonowari’s tattoo’s are earned through good leadership and his accomplishments. He was an example,” you hissed, thoroughly embarrassed.
“You don't think I am a good warrior?” Jake asked and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
“You are Toruk Makto, you united the clans, of course you are! The Omatikaya do not have these traditions, it would make sense that you do not have any,” you defended yourself and him but he still looked unsure.
“Lo’ak! Tuk!” Tsireya’s lilting voice drifted though from the walkway and Lo’ak immediately perked up.
She stopped beside Jake and looked to the kids, “Can you help us herd the Ilu’s for feeding time?” she asked sweetly and Lo’ak shot up like a rocket, the nets now laying discarded at his feet.
“Can I?” Lo’ak asked Jake.
“Yeah can we?” Tuk added, putting her hands together to beg.
“Get outta here, but no more trouble. Give this to Norm on your way out.” he said, handing the device to Lo’ak, not trusting his youngest with it.
Lo’ak took the device and Tuk followed after him as they took off outside.
Jake turned back to you, a comical scowl on his face, “It honestly sounds like you have a thing for Tonowari,” he jibed, and this time you knew he was joking. Jake ducked inside as he said it, and you pushed him in the shoulder as he passed by.
He chuckled, walked over to his equipment and opened the case of metal. “He is handsome, but he is a mated man, Jake,” you pointed out.
From your position near the door, you could watch as the divers came in from their excursions of the day, Tonowari leading the pack. You backed up to the marui’s threshold and leaned against it. “He is a mighty leader, isn't he?” you asked him as you watched Tonowari dismount a skimwing.
“Pfft,” Jake’s head shook at the words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him sit on a low bench and roughly wipe down his gun with a cloth.
“You do not think so?” you asked, turning to face him.
“Yeah, sure,” Jake muttered, forcing the magazine back into the gun he was holding with a little more force than necessary.
“The tattoos’ do not hurt either,” you chuckled, knowing it would irritate Jake, but also enjoying the way his face screwed up.
“I know you're just ribbin’ me, sweetheart, but you're starting to tick me off,” he groaned, glancing up at you from beneath narrowed eyes.
“You know I tease,” you grinned, walking over to him and snaking your arms over his shoulders from behind and interlocking your hands across his chest. “You are the most handsome man to me. A very mighty warrior,” you whispered near his ear where your head perched on his shoulder.
His hand reached up to grasp your forearm and he leaned into you. “Then don’t talk about another man,” he suggested, “You're makin’ me doubt myself here.”
“I carried on the joke too long.” you relented, “the great Toruk Makto has no need for doubt about his strength,” you tutted.
“Toruk Makto always doubts his strength,” he muttered sardonically.
-
You did not truly know the extent of how your words had affected him until the next week when you twisted your ankle.
It was foolish of you, you had been playing hopping games with Tuk and a few of the Metkayina kids on the beach, entertaining them while their parents were off fulfilling their responsibilities.
“Your turn Mat’ro!” Tuk shouted to one of her friends and the little boy took a running start and leaped over the two stacked crates. He flew over flawlessly and you all clapped and cheered for him.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Tonowari and one of his council members walking over to the beach, looking enthralled in a discussion. That made your thoughts go to Jake and the conversation you had had a few days prior.
Secretly, you loved that he had gotten jealous over you making a comment about Tonowari. To you, that meant he thought of you as his, even if that was not the words he used. You relished the expression he made when he even thought of you liking another man.
“Watch out!” a little voice called, and you looked back to the game to see a little girl flying towards you, having lost control of her feet when she landed. Her body crashed into yours, causing you to lose balance and stumble back into the sand.
You landed on your back with an “omph!” and Tuk let out a yell in surprise. The kids crowded around you, blocking out the sun as you regained your bearings.
"I'm sorry! I did not mean to!" the little girl who knocked into exclaimed, still on her feet.
“Are you okay?” Tuk asked and you nodded.
“I am okay,” you insisted, even as you sat up and checked over your limbs for any injuries.
Sand kicked up as another joined the kids huddle, “Are you hurt?’ Tonowari asked, gently moving aside children to kneel beside you. You had spoken to the Olo’eyktan before, everyone had. He made a point to get to know his people, but you still had wide eyes as you realized he had gone through the trouble of checking on you.
“I am fine, really.” you explained, waving him off as you started to stand. He reached out his hands to grasp yours and pull you up, and you were thankful he had because as soon as you put pressure on your ankle, a stinging pain shot through it.
You sucked in air through your teeth and rose on your good ankle, holding your hurt foot off the ground
“You’re hurt,” Tonowari insisted, his hands still holding loosely to yours in order to steady you.
“I can walk it off,” you replied. You felt silly holding hands with the Olo’eyktan while balancing on one foot, and Tuk must have thought so too. She glared at your conjoined hands and shook her head in disappointment when she caught your gaze.
You tore your eyes away from hers as Tonowari spoke again. “You need to see the Tsahik,” he advised and you sighed, “If you think I should,” you agreed with a flushed face.
“What happened,” Jake demanded, jogging across the beach and stopping at your side. He held your arm to help support you, and Tonowari slowly let go of you once he knew Jake was there to keep you steady.
“She injured her ankle,” Tonowari explained before you could open your mouth. “I was about to take her to the Tsahik.”
“I got it,” Jake stated in a tone that was possibly a little flatter than he would normally address the chief with.
“Let me-” But Jake cut Tonowari off as he held out a hand, “I got her,” he repeated and you felt the cool weight of embarrassment sitting deep in your stomach.
“You good, baby?” Jake asked, turning to you, and when you gave him a weak nod, his lips tightened before he scooped you up in his arms.
“Tewti!” You gasped at the way he effortlessly swung you up into him. Your hands instinctually attached around his neck and you noticed the thickness of his shoulders.
“Excuse me,” he said to Tonowari, edging past him to make his way to the Tsahik’s hut where Ronal performed her ritual and healing duties.
“Jake, put me down, I can walk,” you insisted.
“No luck, sweetheart, you're hurt,” he replied, eyes flicking down to yours as he gripped your thigh in one hand and your side in the other.
You gently pinched his ear when you noticed his satisfied smile. “What are you smirking at, skxawng?” you asked, huffing out a laugh as he jerked his head away in an effort for you to let go of him. You moved your hand back to his shoulder.
“I always imagined sweeping you off of your feet, but never like this,” he grinned, eyes now locked on the path before him and your blush only deepened.
Tags: Fluff. Emotional. Light-hearted. No use of Y/N. Gender Neutral. No NSFW.
Note: Please let me know if I wrote anything insensitive, as I don’t mean to cause any harm if I do. I wanted to give a different perspective and show how the beauty in Eywa and its inhabitants don't just stem from its beautiful sights, but also the beauty within. Please also comment if you’d like to join a taglist for my future “Avatar x Reader” fics.
Word Count: 2,402.
The world was not in darkness.
It was a symphony of pressure. It was a cool, velvet kiss of humidity against your skin as you passed from sunlight into the forest’s shade. It was a map of sound— the chattering gossip of viperwolf pups a hundred yards to the east, the rustle of a hexapede browsing in the ferns, the distant, everlasting sigh of Hometree’s remnants. You could feel the path under your bare feet, not just its texture, but also its history.
Your hands knew the shape of things. Your basket, woven from sturdy vines, had a ridge on the third coil where you’d mended it. The leaves of the herb you were harvesting were smooth on top, but veined and slightly rough underneath. You didn’t need to see to know when the gathering was good. You felt it in the weight of the basket, the resinous scent that bloomed in the air as your fingers brushed the stems.
You were humming to yourself, a low tune your mother had sung, when a new pressure entered your symphony.
Footsteps. Not the balanced tread of a hunter, nor the shuffle of an elder. These were quick, slightly off-rhythm, kicking up small sprays of pebbles. They came to an abrupt halt a few paces away.
“You always know it’s me, don’t you?”
Lo’ak’s voice was a texture all its own. It was brash and warm, like sunlight on river stones, with an undercurrent of something restless, always vibrating just beneath the surface.
You smiled, not turning your head. “Your right foot lands heavier than your left. And you breathe like you’re about to speak, even when you’re silent.”
A huff, amused. “Okay, okay. What are you up to?”
“Gathering herbs. The patch by the stream is strong this season.”
“Need help?”
It wasn’t the offer that was unusual, but the tone. Not pity. It was pure, unadulterated curiosity.
He’d been hovering at the edges of your world for weeks, You’d often feel his presence watching you, his energy like a sudden warm breeze. And you’d heard the stories, of course. The second son, the storm-chaser, the one with the too big of a heart that kept leading him into trouble.
“The basket is almost full,” you said.
“Not with that. I mean… Come with me. I want to show you something.”
That gave you pause. “Show me?”
“Yeah! The sky today… It's insane. The clouds over the Floating Mountains look like a herd of fleeing sturmbeests, all pink and orange. And I found this new flower that just bloomed near the old training grounds! It’s this crazy blue that almost glows, even during the day.”
His descriptions were like splashes of paint, vivid and chaotic. You couldn’t picture the fleeing sturmbeests, but you could feel the vastness he implied, could hear the earnest wonder in his voice. It was… charming.
“And how do you propose to ‘show’ me these things, Lo’ak?”
“I’ll tell you! I’ll describe it. I’m good at that.” He said it with a confidence that was both endearing and entirely unearned.
Your smile widened. “Alright then. Lead on, guide.”
---
It became a strange, delightful ritual. Lo’ak would be your self-appointed herald of the visible world. He’d come find you, and his voice would become your brush, painting landscapes you would never witness.
“Okay, so we’re at the lookout,” he’d say, his arm probably sweeping in a grand gesture. “The valley is all… deep green, like a pool of moss, and the rivers are these silver threads. And way, way out there, the mist from the waterfalls looks like smoke from a thousand campfires.”
You’d listen, head tilted as you broke down his descriptions. Silver threads meant fast moving water over rocks. Deep green implied a dense, healthy canopy. You’d file it away, building your own internal map made of sound, scent, and Lo’ak’s impressionistic poetry.
But he was terrible at practical guidance. “Watch out for that root!” he’d cry, a second after your toes had already expertly identified it. “Turn left here!” he’d instruct, when the acoustics of the clearing clearly indicated a path straight ahead.
You’d gently correct him. “The root here, it’s soft. And this left turn leads to a sinkhole, Lo’ak. The good path is ahead. Listen to the echo.”
He’d grumble, but without heat. More with fascination. “How do you do that?”
“You just have to listen past your own voice,” you’d say softly.
His descriptions were his gift, flawed and beautiful. And you accepted them, not as a window to a world you lacked, but as a key to understanding him.
The way his voice softened when describing the delicate veining of a leaf told you more about his heart than any hunt ever could.
---
The day it all changed began like any other. His energy was different, though. A nervous, thrumming excitement vibrated from him, tinged with a solemnity you’d never felt in him before.
“Today’s different,” he announced, his voice tight. “I’m taking you to my place. My real place. No one else knows about it. Not even Neteyam.”
This was a serious offering. For Lo’ak, a secret shared was the highest currency.
The journey was longer, through terrain that grew unfamiliar. This time you relied on him completely, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder as he navigated narrow passes and down steep, leafy inclines. You heard the world change first. There was a resonant hum of falling water growing louder, the air chilling and carrying the clean, electric scent of ozone and wet stone.
“We’re here,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.
He led you forward a few more steps. The symphony was breathtaking.
The waterfall was a deep, thunderous percussion, shaking the air. The mist was a constant, cool kiss on your face. The bioluminescence here was a living blanket, where you could feel its faint, warm energy on your skin. It was like a tapestry of light you could only sense as a gentle, pulsing warmth.
“Okay…” Lo’ak breathed, the guide preparing for his greatest performance. “Okay, you’re standing in it. It’s a glade, a perfect circle. The walls are all smooth, black rock, covered in yovo vines that are glowing… every color. Like someone spilled the stars. And in the center, there’s this pool, so clear you can see every pebble at the bottom, and the waterfall comes down on the far side, all white and foamy, and when the mist hits the light from the vines, it makes these little rainbows that dance…”
He was trying. Eywa, he was trying so hard. But his words, usually so fluid, began to clot and stumble. The pressure of it— the need to make you see this sacred beauty— was strangling his gift.
“It’s just… it’s the most beautiful thing. The colors, the way the light moves… I’ve never seen anything like it. I wanted you to… I mean, you have to be able to…” His voice cracked, not with sadness, but with the sheer, desperate frustration of inarticulate love.
The frustration turned to distress. You could hear it in his ragged breath, in the way his shoulder tensed under your hand. This was his test, his offering to you, and he was failing.
You could feel the old, familiar demon of his. The fear of never being enough, of always falling short. Rising up to choke him here, in his own sanctuary.
He fell silent. The glorious symphony of the glade was now underscored by the quiet, ragged sound of his defeat.
It was enough.
You lifted your hand from his shoulder and reached out, finding his arm. Your fingers closed around his wrist, stilling his restless fidget. The connection was solid, an anchor in his storm.
“Lo’ak.”
He flinched.
You tightened your grip, just a little. A firm, grounding pressure. “Stop.”
A beat of silence, filled only by the waterfall’s roar.
You turned your face toward him, though your gaze, as always, was turned inward, listening. Your voice, when you spoke, was calm, a clear stream cutting through his turmoil.
“Do not tell me what it looks like.”
You paused, feeling his pulse hammering against your fingertips.
“Tell me what it feels like.”
Your words hung in the mist, a simple command that seemed to stop the very air between you. Lo’ak’s breathing hitched, his frantic energy draining into confusion. You felt his arm tense, then slowly relax under your touch.
“What… what do you mean?” he asked, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard before.
You didn’t answer with words. Gently, you guided his hand downward, away from the empty space he’d been trying to paint, and pressed his palm flat against the rock face beside you. It was cool and slick, humming with the waterfall’s vibration.
“Start here,” you said softly. “Is the rock smooth or sharp? Is it wet from the mist or dry? Does it feel alive?”
A long pause. You could almost hear the frantic scrambling in his mind cease, replaced by a new, focused attention.
“It’s… smooth,” he said, wonder seeping into his tone. His fingers began to move, exploring. “But not like glass. There are tiny grooves, like old scars. And it’s cold. Really cold, right here, but just a few inches over…” he shifted his hand, “it’s warmer. Where the vines are touching it.”
“Good,” you murmured. You led him a few steps forward, to where the mist fell like a constant, fine rain. “Now, the air. Is it cold or warm? Does it move in one direction, or does it swirl?”
He was silent, his face turned upward. “It’s… both,” he said, astonished. “The mist is cold, just like the rock. But under it, the air is warm, rising from the pool. It dances on my skin.” He was no longer describing for you; he was discovering for himself.
You knelt, pulling him down with you before your hands found the moss at the water’s edge. You took his hand and buried his fingers in it. “Describe this.”
“It’s… so deep,” he breathed. “Softer than the finest sleeping mat. It’s springy. And it smells… green. Like life itself, but quieter than the forest. Richer.”
“And the water. Not its color. Its sound. Its touch.”
You guided his hand to break the surface of the pool. He gasped, a short, sharp intake.
“It’s not cold! It’s… it’s the same as the warm air under the mist. It’s like liquid sunlight.” He cupped some in his hand, let it trickle through his fingers. “The sound… it’s not just the crash up there. Here, where it meets the pool, it’s a gurgle, a laugh. And over there, by those other rocks, it’s a deep, hollow chuckle.”
He was talking faster now, a river of sensation breaking its banks. You simply listened, a smile gracing your lips. He had found the language.
“Close your eyes, Lo’ak,” you suggested gently.
He did. And with his own sight voluntarily gone, his other senses bloomed. He described the symphony you lived in every day. The layered percussion of the falls, the high, sweet chime of dripping water from a specific fern, the way the bioluminescence wasn’t just light but a faint, tickling warmth on the left side of his face where the densest cluster of vines hung.
He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still shut, a look of profound peace on his face you could hear in his steady breath. “I’ve never… I just always looked at it,” he whispered, raw with revelation. “I never just… felt it before.”
The frustrated guide was gone. In his place was a fellow explorer, humbled and awed by a world he thought he knew.
You both sat in the moss, the silence between you now comfortable, filled with the shared understanding of the glade’s true essence.
It was he who broke the silence, his voice so low it was nearly swallowed by the water’s roar.
“I just…” he began, the words stumbling out with the last of his guarded fear. “I wanted you to have something of mine. Something beautiful that no one else knows. I wanted to put it in your hands. And I thought… if I could make you see it, then it would be real for you, too. And I couldn’t even do that.”
The confession hung in the humid air. This was the heart of him, the boy who fought so hard to be worthy, to share his soul and terrified he had nothing of value to give.
Your heart ached with a fierce tenderness. You reached out, your movements sure in this space you now both knew intimately. You found his hand where it rested in the moss and brought it up, not to your eyes, but to your chest. You placed his palm flat over your heart, letting him feel its steady rhythm against his skin.
“You did not give me a place, Lo’ak,” you said, your voice clear and sure as the water’s song. “You gave me your way of feeling it. The cold of the rock, the dance of the air, the laugh of the water… is your gift. That is a piece of your spirit. And it is far more beautiful than any color.”
You felt his breath catch.
“I have never seen anyone,” you continued, the truth of it shining in your sightless, focused gaze, “the way I see you right now.”
A shudder went through him. Then, his hand shifted under yours. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled, his grip tightening gently on the tunic over your heart, as if holding onto the words you’d just spoken.
“I see you.”
The final wall crumbled. He let out a long, slow breath— not of defeat, but of release. Of being seen, in a way he never imagined possible. He didn’t try to describe the moment. He simply shifted closer in the moss, until his shoulder pressed warmly against yours.
After a moment, you felt the gentle, tentative weight of his tail as it sought and curled softly around your own. You sat like that, in the heart of his secret glade.
You built your shared understanding not from pictures, but from the quiet synchronicity of your breaths, the solid warmth of his presence beside you, and the profound peace that came from knowing you had, together, learned a new way to see.
olo'eyktan! neteyam x school teacher na'vi! (f) reader
(aged up!)
summary : you and neteyam have established a relationship but as things become serious, you're hit with horrible remarks and accusations that cause parents to withdraw their children from your class. when you hear the horrible truth, do you continue your relationship with the olo'eyktan?
warnings!
mdni, 18+ language, smut, slight angst, p in v, neteyam's still a huge creep, reader gullible asf, neteyam's a munch, overstimulation, manipulation, smutty smut smut.
chapter 1
a/n 📝; no spell checks, will go over it later on & edit x short chapter to wrap up the storyyyyyy
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recap
"neteyam. i can't believe I'm doing this"
"doing what?"
you straddle him, inhaling his scent. he grabs your waist, squeezing, and smiles.
"good seat?"
"favourite seat"
"already?"
"mhm"
you place your pussy right on top of his cock and move. he growls and once he feels how wet and sticky you are, his head lulls backwards.
"cum inside me" you whisper against his lips.
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neteyam growls as lifts you onto his lap, kissing you roughly. his kisses are wet, swallowing his saliva. he shoves his tongue down your throat and forces you to take it. your eyes rolling back as you gag.
"fuck," he pants.
a string of saliva connects the two of you.
"neteyam," you whine.
he grins and presses a hard kiss once more upon your lips, before trailing kisses down your neck. his nose brushes against your sensitive spot just below your ear, you twitch in his hold.
"right there?" he teases.
you nod slow as he licks a long strip towards it. your grip on him tightens as he bites down, you squeal with the pleasure overtaking you.
"such pretty sounds for me, yawne," he sighs.
rolling your eyes, you grab his face between your hands.
"when are you going to fuck me?" you whisper against his lips.
he scoffs, licking his bruised lips.
"you kiss your olo'eyktan with that mouth?"
rolling your eyes, you attack his lips with yours. kissing him with the desire taking control of you. you pull away, his bottom lip between your teeth. gently biting down. he growls, chuckling.
"clearly I do," you smile.
"mhm, tell me you want this"
"i want this teyam"
"teyam?"
"uhuh"
he smiles, sitting back, crossing his arms across his chest.
"what are you doing?"
"show me how bad you want it"
"how do you want me to do that?"
so obedient. submissive. needing to be told what to do. pride swells in his chest as he watches how you mould into the woman he wanted you to be. neteyam mentally pats himself on his shoulder and pushes his hips back, slouching.
"i want you to make yourself cum" he orders.
shock heats your skin, his words crude but so easily said.
"neteyam!" you scold.
"what? can't do it?"
"who said I can't?"
"well put on a show for me sevin (pretty), show your olo'eyktan how good you can be for him."
he watches you move, watches you leading him to your mat. each step you take is gentle, not as loud as his. neteyam watches, waiting. cross legged he grins to himself.
you lie yourself in front of him, before you get a chance to take off your tweng (loincloth) neteyam's ripped it off for you, alongside his.
"won't be needing these anymore will we?"
so smug, his ego drips off him.
"alright girl, show me what you can do,"
he watches in excitement, your fingers on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. his eyes scan your body, the arch in your back, your chest rising, your shallow breaths.
beautiful.
his sweet teacher.
your fingers move faster, pressing down for pressure once you have found the fit spot. he watches how your hole clenches around nothing, spasming. your thighs shake as he spreads them wider.
a feast he wants to inhale.
neteyam does not move, he holds your thighs open with his knees and wraps his fist around his cock. watching how you please yourself. drops of arousal leak from your pussy and it's almost game over for him right there and then.
do you taste as sweet as you present yourself?
he watches how your folds are coated with your slick, sweet arousal.
"you're ready for a finger tìyawn (love) si tsal (make it),"
you slide one of your fingers in and your chest pushes out at the feeling, his eyes are staring at you and just the feeling of doing something so dirty in front of your olo'eyktan has you leaking. it has your pressure building.
neteyam's eyes roll back when he hears how wet you are, the sounds mixing so well with each rub and curl of your finger.
"zir tsìltsan (feel good)?" his thick accent becomes so much more seductive.
"srane (yes)" you moan, fastening your pace.
feeling the oil about to snap, your wrists are pushed away and neteyam's head is between your thighs. his attack is brutal. flicking your clit with his tongue fast, swirling it before pushing it between your folds. he groans as he lets his spit coat your pussy, licking it up before realising it back in. your thighs squeeze around his head, back arching your eyes roll back.
"ngh! teyam!" you moan.
your hands grip onto his hair and pull, he growls before biting on your clit gently making your scream.
he spits on it with a puh! before letting his fingers push open your folds, watching how it trickles down before your greedy hole takes it in.
he laughs in disbelief. neteyam's got the best pussy in front of him and it's all his.
he stretches your hole open with two fingers and groans.
"so fucking tiny"
all neteyam can think about is swallowing your cum, you taste so sweet. eywa sent you to him herself, you taste natural, the hint of sweetness so addicting.
pushing a long finger in, he curls it up and you gasp. full from just a finger? you were going to struggle with his monstrous cock. he curls it again and the pleasure deep in your stomach makes you twitch.
"feels better doesn't it?" he grins.
"uhuh, feel s'different" you confess.
you push his braids out of his face, your juices are coating his face. chin dripping with a mix of his saliva and your arousal. he goes back into it, eating you like a starved man. you scream, trapping him right against you, bucking your hips up into him.
anger ticks at the back of neteyam's mind, he wants to have his tongue inside you, inside your stomach. this position causes annoyance to fill him, his attack becoming brutal.
he pulls away before you can let the pressure build up and you whine at the loss.
"don't worry sevin (pretty), I promise you'll cum"
your lashes flutter as you feel sweat coat your chest. neteyam suddenly pulls you to your knees, lying himself down he grabs your thigh.
"heyn sìn my key (sit on my face)"
a moan leaves you, surprising the both of you. his words turning your stomach.
"win säpi nefä (hurry up)" he kisses his teeth.
"are you sure? oe rä'ä new ne pung nga (I don't want to hurt you)" you bite your bottom lip nervously, neteyam sits on his elbows shaking his head.
"what are you afraid of? that you'll crush me? oe new tsonta terkup mìkam (I want to die between) your thighs,"
you slap his arm gently.
"you can't keep saying things like this neteyam!" scolding him as if he were one of your students.
he rolls his eyes and manhandles you closer to him.
"get your sevin (pretty) pussy sìn my key (on my face),"
he helps you spread your thighs over each side of his face, hovering above him. you look down and only his eyes are visible to you.
"don't be afraid." his breathe close to your pussy has you jolting.
you place yourself down onto his mouth but hover so your weight is not completely on him. neteyam jacks clicks in frustration, his hands grabs your thighs and push you down onto him. you yelp, trying to pull off him but he holds you down. his forearm wraps around you and instantly he shoves his tongue inside you.
curling it, pushing it in and out, drinking your arousal neteyam's hips buck up into the air. his cock is raging red, precum leaking down onto his balls. desperation flows off him.
above him, you're a moaning mess, drool flowing down your chin, eyes rolled back and back arched. he pushes deeper and deeper, hitting your cervix. the pleasure washes over you completely. overstimulated, your thighs shake as you arch over, screaming as you squirt all over him.
neteyam doesn't stop. he continues, drinking you whole. instead, he brings his fingers down rubbing your clit, fast. the sensitive bud against such pressure makes you jolt in his hold, toes curling. he groans, the vibrations causing you to see white.
neteyam holds you up, your thighs trembling against his head. you feel like you're going to collapse. but neteyam keeps your grounded. he helps you ride out the last few waves of your mind blowing orgasm and bites the soft part of your thigh.
"you're so beautiful" he whispers.
"give me one more"
you whine, objecting, earning a harsh slap to your clit. you shudder, gripping onto his hair.
"one more ma', cum on my tongue"
his face is shiny with your slick but adoration is in neteyam's eyes. he looks up at you like you're his favourite meal. he kisses start slow, languid, licking every spot he can cover. meticulous and calculated. he's building up the tension in your stomach, he wants you to break.
you look over your shoulder, his cock stands tall, painful and pulsing. your tail twitches as you stare at the bulbous tip. lifting your tail, you smirk. a guttural moan leaves you as you tries to get you to refocus on him.
you wrap your tail around his cock and he falters, a loud moan escaping him.
"what the fuck are you doing?" he pants.
looking down at him, you flash him a grin.
"shut up and take it" you whisper.
your tail wraps around him tight, his eyes rolling back. moving your tail in motion, neteyam's hips pistol up.
"fuck...tsewtx 'eve (dirty girl)" he moans.
he goes back to making out with your pussy, your grip on his cock tightening. his moans are loud, deafening. if anyone were to walk past they'd hear their olo'ekytan slurping your juices and moaning at how your tail wraps around him so orgasmically.
the pressure builds up, you pull at his harm and neteyam's hands dig into your hips. leaving bruises. the squelching sounds of your pussy and the grunts of him thrusting his hips up with your tail wrapped around him have you chasing your high.
screaming as you cum, your limbs weak you slide off his face.
"no, no...fuck, come back here"
your tail wraps back onto his cock when he spreads your thighs wide open. finishing his meal, he slaps your clit harsh and fast.
"let go of my cock yawne"
your body shakes, trying to push him away from your pussy but he does not stop. your pleas fall deaf on his ears, you whimper continuously but neteyam does not stop. he removes his mouth to replace it.
his girthy cock pushes between your folds and into your tight hole, screaming he wraps his hand around your throat. pushing you into the ground, he bottoms out inside you.
Neteyam's eyes are white, his tail is whipping hard lashes against the ground and his toes are curled. trying to stop himself from cumming, but your whimpers, your clenching, the way your tits are just waiting for his mouth to be wrapped around. the sweet taste of you is savoured on his tongue.
"tey...please, please tey...I can't" you whine.
"don't be a cry baby" he scoffs.
he grabs his tweng and stuffs it in your mouth.
"stop...fuck- fucking complaining" he growls.
so easy to fill you, your pussy is so creamy. the pain subsides to pleasure in no time, begging him to move. wanting to know how it will feel. but you're muffled, neteyam wants to move but he'll cum within seconds.
he pants and grips onto you tight. tears well in your eyes, desperate to feel him pound into you. he feels so full, so heavy. his eyes are wide as he pulls your kuru towards his, bringing his over his shoulder.
you open your eyes instantly, trying to focus on him but your eyes flutter close.
"tell me...tell me you want this. you'll accept me no matter what, you want us." he groans.
you nod, frantically, begging, desperate. removing his tweng from your mouth, you swallow dryly.
"neteyam"
he looks at you, eyes full of lust. pupils dilated.
"do you want this?" you pant.
he nods, slow.
"I want this in every existence, every space."
"just my pussy?"
"your brains, your lungs, your heart...all of you" he pants.
"you think you can handle me?" you croak out.
"I have watched you, seen you, heard you. it is not just attraction, it is not just me courting you that finalised my decision. it was final from the moment I saw you" he confesses.
you grin, watching sweat drip off his forehead.
"i want you, my olo'eyktan, my yawne" you whisper just loud enough for him to hear.
the pink tendrils stretch out, desperate to feel one another. he pushes them together, slow and edging. teasing. this is what he wanted from the moment he saw, this is what he deserves. such a good fucking pussy with a brilliant mouth. a personality no other woman in his clan has, you are everything a man wants.
combining, sliding against one another, wrapping around one another, neteyam's hip thrust into yours, fast and hard. the sound of skin slapping fills the darkness.
every single emotion, feeling, thought, the feeling of one another inside each other, the pleasure, the orgasms, the overstimulation. you both can feel it all and it sends you right over the edge. neteyam grunts at each thrust, faster. he has to go faster. he can't stop now. he attacks, his balls slapping your ass at each hit. your scream are affecting the outside world, your grip and scratches on him dangerous. he shoves his tweng back into your mouth and holds you down.
fucking himself into you, his tongue lulls out, panting. neteyam pushes himself past his own limit. his thighs shake, toes curl and eyes roll back.
"fuck, flip over. hurry, oh fuck- baby you are perfect,"
"yes, yes take it...yes my beauty take it go on,"
"oh shit- shit" he whimpers.
your on your knees, your front half flat on the floor, limbs to weak to keep you upright. you're screaming, cumming and squirting all over the poor man who is no longer moaning. he's whimpering, tears filling his eyes as he keeps going.
he wanted to picture you, frame you, feel you, die in your pussy.
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since that night you have not been the same, the first two days neteyam had to lift you around your own home. he would help you bathe, clean yourself, get ready to rest in hot water to relax your aching muscles.
it has been almost over a week later and your thighs still shake. the smell of sex still lingers in your home and you're sure his cum is still sitting inside you.
it has been a week since you both performed tsaheylu. lingering touches, intense eye contact, teasing holds. the two of you have not been inseparable. the busy olo'eyktan has come and eaten with you, instead of eating you, on his breaks. he has taken time out of his day to walk you home. he holds you gently as you enter your home, he keeps his gaze elsewhere when you bend over, when you flash your private parts by accident.
it isn't out of shyness, it is out of the respect of your bond. he wants to do this properly, he wants to claim you as his through tradition.
all you two were waiting for is time, there was no rush. no need to announce it but the people around you could see. they could see the glow in both your faces, the closeness. you submit to one another, neteyam praises the ground beneath you and gives thanks to eywa every day he lives and breathes for you.
the young olo'eyktan harbours a secret, something that he should have told you before performing the bond. he has built a connection upon lies, secrets, his own agenda. he knows it's wrong, he knows he shouldn't have kept such a big thing from you. but he is to be yours, what more could anyone want? he is to humble himself before you.
but as time goes on, the grass does not stay any greener. your lessons have become more intense as the children age, you train with them, teach them basics of self defence, you launch after school activities for them to join.
but it all came crashing down.
"we will not bring our children here any longer!" one the mothers in the group speaks.
"I heard she has not bonded with a male but still performs the acts," one of the parents gossip in their circle.
"did you not hear the other night? in the darkness? it was from her mauri"
they all gasp, leaning in to hear one another. you send children off to their parents, looking over at the circle of parents you make your way, a skip in your step.
"what are you all looking at?" you lean in with them.
they all look towards you and scream, jumping back out of shock.
"don't leave me out of it, tell me!" you whine.
their noses turn up as they look at you, lips curling.
"we will not be bringing our children to your lessons any longer." one of the parents state.
"here we go again, why's that? you also think learning about herbs is a waste of time?" rolling your eyes, you cross your arms.
"you perform the acts of tsaheylu with a male in the darkness but you are not bonded!" one of them shouts, other parents gasping.
if the ground could swallow you up right now, you wish it did. your body runs cold and your eyes widen in shock, public humiliation. shame fills you but not towards your acts, to how everyone heard you, all parents knowing.
"excuse me?" you shout.
"you are sly, txavä' (disgusting)," a father shouts.
"pelun sweylu ayoe fpe' 'evi tsonta nga? tsonta a txavä' fnele (why should us send our kids to you? to a disgusting woman) !" a mother screams.
embarrassment floods through you but you do not let it swallow you.
"I am bonded." you calmly state.
they all gasp.
"to who? the olo'eyktan? the man who has been watching you whilst you do not realise?"
eyes widening, you look over to the woman who has a smug smile on her lips.
"what?"
heat radiates off your face, burning.
"the olo'eyktan who watches you in the darkness whilst you lie? the olo'oykten who hides behind eywa herself to watch you? that is who you have performed tsaheylu with?"
you cannot force yourself to stand upright any longer, running from the crowd you shut yourself out from them all. hiding in your classroom.
their words suffocate your mind, etch into your skin. their smiles, their tones laced with disgust. the truths you did not expect.
the entrance to the teaching mauri is thrown open, neteyam storming in, he pushes his braids back as he looks at you, sighing in relief.
"oh my yawne, what has happened?" he coos.
blood is splattered all over him, tribal marks painting his skin. he has come from a hunt. you do not look at him, standing and walking backwards, away from him.
"do not come near me!" you scream.
he looks at you in shock.
"do not come near me...you- you liar!" you scream.
all you can hear is their words, those parents. why would they lie? why would they make shit up?
he lifts his hands in surrender and crouches, slow with each step he takes.
"tell me, what is it, what has happened?' he softly speaks.
"you! you planned this. you planned all of this, your fucked up agenda. you were going to fuck me no matter what and then what? perform tsaheylu and dip? you skxawng!" you scream, hurling words of abuse at him.
the truth slaps him round the face, it feels as if someone has stuck their arm into his chest and ripped his heart out.
he shakes his head. he has to get out of this or else he will lose you, he has to. he has to.
"tell me what is it, communicate with me" he growls.
"you watched me, you followed me. you kept record of me, it was never love or feelings, it was lust. you only did all this to fuck me!" your voice breaks as hot tears stream down your face.
for neteyam it's like he has been shot multiple times, each tear drop was a bullet into his thick skin. seeing you so vulnerable, hurt, pained. anger bubbles inside him. his sweet teacher broken before him. neteyam's fists curl beside him.
he drops to his knees, your mouth closing in an instant. he hangs his head low, palms facing upwards on his thighs.
"what are you doing?" you sob.
"it is true. I watched you, I adventured after you but it was never just attraction. it was not the desire of having my cock inside you. it was the desire of seeing your face, putting a name to the face that my sister would come home and mention. it was wanting to know you, see you for myself" neteyam covers up the entire truth, changes the story to fit the ideal reality.
he knows he shouldn't but you would listen to him, you're his. his girl. his mate.
you sniffle as you make your way over to him.
"promise me...promise me it was nothing else."
he looks up at you, eyes wide and glossy.
"it is...partially the truth." he sighs.
"what else it there?"
you drop to your knees in front of him, staring into his eyes. looking for any trace of a lie.
"what I said was true but...I knew I could have you. I knew you would say yes to me, I did everything I did, I behaved unnatural, I watched you, found out things about you to see who you exactly were. I bonded with you to get you except me for who I am completely. I did not have any other intention, I do not have any other intention." he admits.
neteyam prays to eywa, prays you believe him. you listen to him, you see him for who he is. he cannot tell you that he did this on purpose, that he waited for the perfect moments to see you, find you, study you.
you sigh, hiccuping,.
"bit egotistical dont you think?"
he looks up at you, smiling.
"yeah...I know."
it was just ego. it was never anything else. he wasn't being sick and twisted. he wasn't...he didn't have an ulterior motive. so convincing, so...he is yours. you are his. you have submitted to him the moment you saw him.
you smile, holding his face. he watches, waits. see's you.
but what he doesn't know is -
you saw him the entire time.
you knew he was watching you.
you heard it the moment he fell behind the bush with his brother.
but what are you meant to say? you can't tell your olo'eyktan you have been planning to get your hands on him from the moment you saw him?
toxic vs toxic? you swallow the pill of reality and press a soft kiss against his lips.
looks like it's just us against the world neteyam.
so easy to mould, it's just me and you forever my sweet y/n.
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MY ANGELLSSSS 🫶🏼 HOW WAS ITT!??
major plot twist! don't hate the player, hate the damn game for real. reader had her own ulterior motive too LMAOOO 😼
thank you for all the love on cherry! she was so sweet to think of but so sour to write, goodness me 😫✨
dk if i should write part 2 of peaches then write passionfruit or adventure into ao'nung fics. send help.
🌶️ remember, req's are open & pls feel free to req for lo'ak, aonung etc 🌶️
“Hey, there she is.” You hear distantly. The tech’s help you sit up, running the sensory motor tests. Jake's causing issues the moment he wakes up. You're still blinking slowly by the time he's sitting up and smacking techs with his tail.
You’re dizzy, trying to follow the tech’s instructions to check limb function. You do your best to ignore the shouts and warnings from the other techs and Norm to Jake, focusing on making sure you can move properly. “Easy, (Y/N), wiggle your toes and touch your finger to your thumb. Good. Good. Sit up slowly-HEY!”
You duck just in time as the monitor flies past you. Jake slams his hand against the window to balance himself. Patel tries his best to get Jake to listen; you can hear the aggravation in his voice without even having to look. “Jake. Come on. Jake! Listen to me. You're not used to your avatar body. This is dangerous.”
Jake grins brightly, his tail swishing back and forth erratically. “This is great.” And jesus if he doesn’t just disappear in the blink of an eye.
“Jake, come on! They’re gonna put you out!” He’s long gone by the time Norm stands up to follow, you not far behind. “Jake, listen-Norm! Sit down, (Y/N)!” Patel huffs, watching the three of you stumble through the halls onto the training grounds is similar to watching foals walk for the first time.
You shout, a laugh bubbling up your chest as you step out onto the training grounds. It’s like putting on crystal glasses for the first time. You’ve never seen the world like this before, similar to how a little kid sees the world.
Jake’s obviously having a good time himself, almost running into a couple of avatars playing basketball. “Hey, guys. Hey”
“It’s okay, I’ll get him.” Norm pushes the tech’s away from him, and by proxy, you. You take the lead while Norm stumbles around them. “Jake. Jake!”
You cackle, ignoring Jake and the human techs as Jake’s bare ass takes off into a sprint. You follow closely, sure your own cheeks are flashing everyone behind you.
“Guys! We’re not supposed to be running!” Norm shouts behind you both. It doesn’t even register in your mind. You’re too exhilarated by the fact that you are touching grass. Real grass. Not that sharp and itchy fake turf grass that parks on Earth had used. You laugh as Jake laughs, too excited to do anything else but try to race with him.
Jake dodges an AMP suit just in time, jumping over the walkway. “Jeez, sorry!” You fall behind, having barely stopped yourself in time. “Watch it!” The man calls out, stomping away. Panting while waiting for the AMP suit man to move, you watch Jake. Something, somewhere inside you, knows this is right.
He finally stops, and you catch up just in time. Giggling like a little girl. “Jake! Jesus, why’d you run off like that?”
He grins breathlessly, not looking at you but down into the dirt. “Hey, that’s what they get for giving a paraplegic legs.” You watch as he digs his toes into the soil, and smile. You were excited to feel real grass for the first time, and he’s just excited to be able to move freely. Bumping his shoulder, you grin. “Your braid’s falling out.” He huffs, reaching around to grab the kuru at the base, checking the integrity of the braid.
“Damn,” he breathes out, finally turning around to look at you. “Okay, gorgeous-” your cheeks heat up before you’re both interrupted.
“Hey, marine!” A tall avatar approaches us with a Stanford tank. No way, it's-
“Grace?” Jake asks, a small smile spreading over his face.
“Well, who’d you expect, numbnuts?” She grins, throwing a Spartan fruit towards Jake. “Think fast.”
You giggle at the shitty throw, Jake having to bend to catch it successfully. It’s a good thing Grace is a scientist with that aim. Of course, you’d never tell her that, though, afraid you might lose your fucking head.
“Motor control’s looking good.” She smiles as she nods for him to eat the fruit.
Juice squelches from the fruit as he takes a giant bite. You peer up at him as he lets out an appreciative chuckle. “Damn, this is good. Here, here, pretty girl, take a bite.” You feel your face get warm as he gingerly hands you the messy fruit, keeping his hands around it to keep it from falling apart. You lean down to take a small bite, closing your eyes as the sweet and crisp taste of the spartan fills your mouth. “Oh my god.”
Grace chuckles as she watches you both. She turns as Norm approaches, finally having caught up. “Go get dressed, you three, got quite a bit of training to do this afternoon.”
__________________
Jake sits in front of you while you braid the protective plait around the tswin, bitching every time you pull a little too hard. “Watch it, pretty girl.”
“Why’re you calling me that now? Is my name too hard?” you huff, tugging lightly on a thin strand of hair. He swats at your hand, grumbling. “It’s a nickname. You’re pretty. You’re a girl. Don’t read into it.”
You snort, finishing the braid, “whatever, sayrìp.”
He eyes you over his shoulder, “What the hell does that mean?” You smirk to yourself, trying to hide it. It translates to handsome, but he doesn’t deserve to know that quite yet.
Bite the bullet (Y/N).
“Dingus.”
Jake lets out a loud laugh, his ears pinning forward. “You think I believe that. I’m gonna ask Norm what it means.”
“Do you even remember what I said?” You hum self-satisfied, knowing he very much does not remember what you said. “Fuck.” He turns around, and oh my god, he’s giving you the puppy eyes, which works tremendously well on a Na’vi face. “Please say it again, pretty girl.”
That’s not at all fucking fair, so you turn away, crossing your arms over your chest. Face hot from the stupid nickname. “Absolutely not. Pay attention next time.” He knows he’s hot, what a dick. You send him another halfhearted look when he turns away, smirking to himself. The small baby hairs framing his face do not help you at all in this situation; he’s every bit the charming man and he plays it well.
Grace is quite literally your saving grace as she walks into the small housing quarters. “Come on, everybody, quiet down! All right, gang, lights out.” Jake slides off the cot you were sitting on, stealing the one next to you from Norm. Throwing Norm’s bedding onto the next bed with a playful shrug. He drops unceremoniously onto the cot next to you, pulling at his freshly done braid. He looks at the exposed nerve of the kuru, the tendrils wiggling gently. “Don’t play with that,” Grace mumbles as she walks past him, her voice heavy with exasperation. “You’ll go blind.”
He glances up at you silently, and you can’t help but smile at the barely alarmed look on his face as he smiles, “That’s kind of freaky.” He lets it go, leaning back onto the bed, facing yours. You mirror him, fixing your own tswin over your shoulder. “It’s an exposed nerve, gonna be a little freaky.”
“Lights out! See you at dinner, kiddies.” The lights shut off, and you see clearly as Jake follows you, making sure his kuru is resting over his shoulders. He gives you another sideways glance; there’s an air of nervousness about him. You wonder what he’s worried about.
“See you in a few.” He murmurs, turning over and facing away from you. You sigh, searching his back. You don’t really know why you care; you hardly know the man. But damn, has he been good at squeezing into your skin? “See ya.” You reply, even quieter.
Switching back to your real body is always jarring. Your heart feels like it's about to burst from your chest, and your head pounds for the briefest of moments before everything settles, and you reacclimate to human senses. The pod lifts with a soft click, and you sit up with a tiny sigh. Rubbing your head while you sit there, you overhear Patel say, “Welcome back.”
Looking over, you see Jake look at his legs with a sigh of disappointment. That’s what had him down. You can’t blame him. “Hey, let's go get something to eat. And I heard our pilot tomorrow is Trudy Chacón, I wanna meet her if you wanna come with?” He gives you a lazy smirk, “Sure, pretty girl. Lead the way.”
_________
The next morning is a fucking thrill! Trudy was a joy last night; she’s obviously a star at piloting the small craft. Jake sits at the side as one of the door guns. You sit behind him, unable to tear your eyes away from the beauty that is Pandora. Flying past giant trees, it feels like you could almost just reach out and touch them. You know better, of course. No need to go flinging yourself out of a moving aircraft on your first day. You shout as Trudy flies past the waterfall, your hair and Jake’s hair whipping in the wind. Jake follows short, letting out his own hoot with a grin.
Trudy lets the craft hover, Jake and Wainfleet hopping off to check the perimeter before she completely lands. When they signal the all clear, she lands with ease. You grab your pack, head for the edge, when Jake pops up with an easy grin and offers his hand to you as you step out. You fucking take it, because of course you do. He’s cute. What about it? “Thank you.”
“Anything for my pretty girl.” Goddamn, he’s got to stop. You avoid Grace and Norm’s very pointed stares, checking the state of your backpack. You hear Grace tell Trudy to shut the engine off through the comms, and finally, the sounds of the forest truly reach your ears for the first time. It’s amazing.
“Stay with the ship. One idiot with a gun is enough.” Grace orders towards Wainfleet. You squint at him when you see the absolute glee on his face. “You the man, Doc.”
“Pussy.” You murmur under your breath. Wainfleet would have never heard it with his human-limited senses. Jake, however, hears it and lets out a soft snort. “You’re cold-blooded, Stark.”
And you already fucking miss him calling you ‘pretty girl’. That’s so not fair.
But he takes the lead, Grace and Norm following him through the forest. You’re too excited, looking for any of the animals, not really paying attention to their fascination with the plants and fungal network of the land.
Monkey-like creatures swing into view, and you can’t help the giddy noise that bubbles from your chest. Jake quickly raises his rifle, and you place a hand on his arm. “They’re not aggressive, Jake. Prolemuris. Kinda like the lemurs they had back home in the zoos.” The Prolemuris in front of us takes a fruit from the tree, staring at Jake and you with a strangely sentient look before swinging away with one last hoot.
“Relax, Marine.” Grace shoves the muzzle of the rifle down gently, “You’re making me nervous.” Jake huffs, shaking off the encounter and giving you a shrug.
Norm interrupts the quietness that had taken over your small group. “So, how will they know we’re here?” They, probably meaning the native Na’vi people. Most likely, the Omatikaya clan Grace has previously interacted with.
“I’m sure they’re watching us right now.”
You cringe at Grace’s answer, not at all comforted by the thought. “That’s…nice.”
“Keep moving, Norm,” Jake grumbles from the back. You can feel his eyes on you, though. You’re not sure if that comforts you any more than the fact that Omitkaya warriors might be keeping an eye on you as well.
After a long trek, Grace finally stops the group, setting her pack down. Norm pants beside her, excited to take samples of the plants. You huff, crossing your arms. You know a little of Pandoran Botany, but more than anything, you know the wildlife like the back of your hand.
Norm and Grace mumble as they take samples. You follow Jake further into the forest, hearing the last of their conversation before you get too far. “Norm, you’ve contaminated the sample with your saliva.” You snort at Grace’s exhausted tone.
You follow Jake closely into a field of some kind of plant. He looks over his shoulder at you with a sly grin. “You know what these are?”
You purse your lips, shaking your head. “No clue, not my field.” He chuckles, tilting his head curiously at a plant before touching it. You both jump backwards when the plant shrinks to the size of a sapling in a second. You tilt your head, “must be some sort of defense mechanism to keep herbivores from eating them-Jake!”
He continues to touch more with a laugh, causing them to shrink, and then a chain reaction goes off, causing several at once.
Big mistake. A juvenile Hammerhead Titanothere, Angtsìk, trumpets at you and Jake in warning. He reflexively raises his rifle. You freeze, grabbing Jake by the arm. “Do not shoot, it won't do anything except piss him off.”
“Jake, I’m serious. The armor’s too thick.” You glance over your shoulder, seeing Grace and Norm in a blind corner. “It’s a territorial threat display. Stand your ground, or he’ll charge at us.”
“Jesus.” Jake breathes out, whipping his head between you, Grace, and the Angtsìk. “So, what do I do, dance with it?”
“Just hold your ground,” Grace warns lowly, her eyes wide and serious.
Jake and I stand still. Then the Angtsìk charges with a deafening roar. Jake barely hesitates before charging himself with a scream. You tilt your head, relieved, but confused as to why it backed down. It shouldn’t have been threatened by Jake.
Jake, too exhilarated to think of anything other than his perceived success, cheers. “Yeah? Come on! What you got? Oh, yeah. Who's bad? That's right. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about, bitch. That's right, get your punk ass back to mommy. Yeah? Yeah, you got nothing. You keep running. Yeah, and why don't you bring back some of your friends, huh?”
The hair at the back of your neck stands up, and you hear the smallest crunch of leaves behind you. You quite literally feel your blood run cold as you turn around to face a Thanator, otherwise known as the Palulukan.
“Jake.”
You hear Grace through the comms, “Oh shit.”
The Thanator jumps over you and Jake, focused on the titanotheres before turning to corner you both against the tree it just climbed out of. Jake takes the forward position again, keeping you behind him. “So what about this one? Run? Don't run? What?”
You grab his arm, yanking backwards, “Run.”
“Definitely run.” Grace echoes through the comms, and Jake doesn't need to hear anymore before he’s pulling you deeper into the forest.
The thanator snarls as it catches up to you and Jake within a matter of seconds. Jake slips through a crevice in the tree roots, shoving you forward as he turns around to see the Thanator burst through the tree itself. You stumble through a bamboo forest, grunting from the strain of practically running an obstacle course with very little training. You’re comforted by the very close sounds of Jake grunting from the strain as well; at least he’s still with you. You feel the Thanator snarl right behind you, crashing into a bamboo stalk. You know better than to turn around, letting out a small screech of fright as you duck away, trailing after Jake.
Jake slides under a giant tree with its roots exposed, which almost looks like a cage. He pulls you under, you slide to a stop next to him, scrambling to sit up. The Thanator digs with a single limb, claws just about six-inches long. Jake ducks just in time as the Thanator is able to shove its head into the tree roots. The Thanator pulls a root loose with its teeth, and Jake sets loose a spray of bullets from the rifle, roaring himself. He’s got sharp canines, your wildlife biology-trained brain notices. Two canines, which are unusual for Na’vi and avatars. You absentmindedly touch your own before Jake loses the gun to the Thanator. Your eyes widen. Fuck.
The thanator crashes into the roots of the tree, and you pant as Jake pulls you from the hiding place with a rough and desperate hand. He pushes you harder through the dense forest, thick leaves and vines, leaving tiny scratches across your faces and limbs. Neither of you truly cares; running for your lives takes precedent. He gives one last final push before the Thanator launches from a fallen tree, getting a hold of Jake’s pack. You hesitate, reaching for him as he releases himself from the pack, falling several feet away with a pained grunt. You brave a glance back as you help him up, the thanator’s sensory quills flare as it hisses. Jake pulls you, a tight grip on your upper arm as he jumps towards the waterfall. You glance up to see the Thanator giving up the chase just as you land in the water.
You lose Jake in the fall, grasping desperately for him but only finding rocks. You surface with a great gasp for air, seeing further down the river. “Jake!” He’s braced on a grouping of tree roots. You struggle to swim towards him, the current fast and unforgiving. He catches your hand just in time, before the current can sweep you further into the river. He pulls you closer to the bank of the river, his eyes roving over you intensely.
His thumb touches your cheek, and he tries to wipe a small scratch clean of blood. Panting, he grins. “You good, pretty girl?” You nod breathlessly, looking up to see the thanator prowling restlessly. “We should probably get out of here before it decides to climb down.”
He looks up at himself with a weary huff, pushing you further up the tree roots towards the bank. “Hope we get paid extra for this if we survive.”
You snort, pulling him up onto the bank. “If we don’t get fired first.”
