"Okay, baby. Into the hammock. Mom is asleep, the forest is asleep and your dad is definitely asleep standing up" Jake said, reaching down to scoop her up.
She nimbly dodged his hands. "No! I busy, Dada!"
"Busy? It’s dark out." Jake was prepared for the tears or the running away, but he wasn’t prepared for the sheer audacity of a toddler’s focus. "Time to sleep, little one."
As he reached down to scoop her up for the third time, she didn't budge. Instead, she held up one tiny flat palm—the universal stop sign—and looked him dead in the eye with a seriousness that was terrifyingly similar to her mother’s.
"No 'buts'!" she interrupted, her little tail giving a sharp flick. She pointed a small, blue finger at a series of messy charcoal lines she’d drawn on a flat piece of bark. "This map is 'portant. Very 'portant."
"Okay, okay," Jake whispered, dropping into a crouch to meet her eye level. "Why is it so important?"
She leaned in close, as if the forest itself might be eavesdropping on their top-secret tactical briefing. "Ants... they lost. They don't 'now where the sweet berries are. If I sleep, they walk-walk-walk into big water! And they go splash! You want them go splash?"
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to laugh at the mental image of a line of ants walking off a cliff because his three year old wasn't there to guide them.
"I definitely don't want them to go splash, sweetheart," Jake agreed solemnly. "But maybe they can find the berries tomorrow?"
"No, dada, look. Look!" She tapped the bark aggressively. "The berries are here. The water is here. If I don't finish the line, 'map is broken! Broken map is no good. You're a 'mander. You know this!"
Jake bit his lip. She had him there. Using his own rank as "Commander", as he'd once explained it, against him was a pro-level move.
"Alright, Specialist," Jake sighed, surrendering. "Two more lines. Then the map goes into night-mode and the ants have to use their brain. Deal?"
She squinted at him, weighing the terms like a seasoned negotiator. Finally, she nodded once, very sharply. "'kay. But hold the torch. I need light for these parts."
Jake sat there in the dirt, the great Toruk Makto himself, dutifully holding a glowing seed pod over a piece of bark while a toddler drew a squiggly line.
you can't convince me otherwise that jake would be so protective and possessive of you.
whenever you find yourself walking into unknown territory, jake's wide hand rests reassuringly on your lower back. guiding you alongside him.
you've noticed the not-so-subtle flick of his ears when he sees other curious na'vi men and women approaching you and taking an interest in learning humans. or when you seem to be getting along well with another. its endearing to see the warrior masking his poorly hidden possessiveness.
seating himself beside you like he's simply joining the conversation. when in reality you know he's making sure the younger men keep their distance and fascination at bay. cause he wouldn't ever want them to make comments about you being human and then seeing you upset.
"hey baby" he lets out, nudging his face against your cheek, purring softly before he sits down. silently admiring you. and its the way he actually listens and remembers every little thing you say. turning all his attention to you. eyes glued to your sweet focused face. his tail curling around your ankle.
and he loves how you don't realise his scent is all over your skin. intoxicating and it screams 'she's my mate'. he scents you at any chance when you're his lap or anywhere else. so strong that any na'vi knows you're his. and he's always looming beside you. standing so tall and protective. giving you that sense of safety and affection.
-you and jake have been best friends for years much to the displeasure of everyone who has ever been around you two. Even in your new lives you both remain insufferable.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: body shaming (jake calls reader 'tubby' once, they both call each other ugly)
a/n: this was supposed to be a small drabble but then i unfortunately started writing exposition…
kinda part 2: The kids are watching
You knew from the second you laid eyes on him, when he walked into the barracks with all that young bull swagger and an annoying smirk, that he was someone that would get on your nerves.
You weren't wrong. You just never expected that his sully charm would reel you in regardless.
You quickly became inseparable assholes together. You two were practically joined at the hip, eating side by side in the canteen every single day, and periodically landing yourselves in trouble with your childish arguments which often lead to toilet scrubbing and endless pushups. There was a time when you both had goofed off a little too much which led to the whole team having to clean the barracks with nothing but toothbrushes. Everyone hated you both for that.
When you first met Tommy, he joked that you were more Jake's twin that him.
"Maybe we were switched at birth" he had laughed.
Unfornately, unlike Jake who quickly fell into the disciplined marine life, following orders was never your strong suite. You often talked back to superiors, unable to withstand what you viewed to be unfair treatment. It was never your dream to join the miltary, you were just following the path that was expected of you. So it was no surprise to anyone when you had been discharged within the year for your inability to adapt.
Graciously, Tommy had taken you under his wing, introducing you to the avatar training program when you had nothing and no one to fall back onto. You never considered yourself someone who had an interest in space but there was something about pandora that callled to you. You had trained more rigourously for this than for anything you ever had before, spending sleepless night studying na'vi and reading most of grace augustines books detailing flora and fauna.
You and Jake kept in touch throughout. you wrote letters back and forth where he would tease you for being a science puke now. Your bond was still strong even when life got busy.
And when Jake was discharged after losing his legs, you did your best to be there for him, trying to keep some sense of normalcy in his life. You never tiptoed around him. Something he would later tell you he appreciated. You never treated him like he was a broken man. Because even under all the grief and the lack of legs, he was still just plain old Jake Sully.
After Tommy's death, you both had somehow gotten impossibly closer.
Life on Pandora with Jake had reminded you of your early days together where you both were nothing but a headache for everyone around.
Grace had looked you both over that first time and clutched her head as if just the sight of you both was enough to bring on tension aches. You remebered how she turned away, arguing about how she didn't need reckless marines. You atleast had the log hours to prove some worth.
She had little patient for Jake, let alone the both of you together, especially when you riled each other up with playful jabs and petty squables. There were times where Jake would jump you while in his avatar, taking full advatange of his newfound strenght. Your miltary training would kick in and you reciprocated tenfold.
Grace had threatened to send you both back to earth.
During your first mission together, you shouldn't have been surprised that Jake had mangaed to separate you both from the group—he had always been reckless—and then got you captured by the omatikaya. In that time you both became students under the chief's daughter and the future leader, Neytiri and Tsu'tey, much to their chagrin.
You would not describe them as patient teachers. Not at first at least. Neytiri was aggressive. Quick to annoy. She would often insult both you and Jake and would smack him when he did something wrong. But under all that irritation was a girl skilled in her ways of life. Despite her initial protests, Neytiri never skipped a day of lessons. She taught you like you were children now learning to live in your body. In a sense you were. And while you had more experience in your avatar than Jake, you still struggled at times. She never went beyond what you were ready for. She remained steady and reliable. And soon she became a friend.
Tsu'tey was a different story. He was hardened and set in his ways. A stubborn man who once he made up his mind was hard to shake. From the second he laid eyes on you two he decided you both were better off dead. That you were nothing but a threat to the forest and it's people. He was more unforgiving in his training. He fought like you were a supposed to know every step and when to dodge. He hissed insults every chance he got. When you stumbled, when your feet land wrong, when your breathing was too loud.
He reminded you too much of the sergeants during your training days. This lead to you often pushing back on his aggressiveness. You both were always at each others throats.
Eventually that tension would grow and change shape until it became something that was hard to describe. Touches became softer and words became less minced, and his patience grew with time. Not largely, just enough for you to notice.
It finally came to head after the great war.
Tsu'tey was gravely injured and had spent days in the tsahik's tent. Jake, who was already mated with Neytiri, would nudge you with a grin on his face everytime he caught you hovering over the sleeping na'vi. You refused to leave his side, too anxious at his state, even though you never admitted it out loud.
When he finally woke, you both had mated under the eye of eywa, no longer able to deny the affection that you held for each other.
Jake had teased you relentlessly the next morning. You punched him square in the chest, forcing him to double over.
Even now, a year later, your relationship hadn't changed.
"Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!"
Jake clawed at your hands that pulled on strands of his hair.
"Still think I'm weak?" You grunted
You and Jake had been fishing in a nearby stream, filling baskets with enough to feed the clan at dinner. When it was time to haul the fish back to the clan, you, having spent most of your time with your newborn baby boy instead of keeping up with training, had struggled with lifting one of the baskets. And Jake with all his stupidity, decided that it was a good idea to poke fun at you. "Getting a little tubby, huh?"
Not the brightest thing to say to a new mother, especially if that mother was you.
The second the comment left him, you fully dropped the basket and tackled him to the ground, resorting to petty tricks like hair pulling.
"Apologize!!" You hissed, fingers unyielding around his dreads.
Jake despite the pain in his scalp said nothing. All he let out was pained yells.
At his silence you wrapped your legs around his neck.
"Ugk—"Jake choked. He tried the pry you off of him, digging his nails into your skin. You didn't waver. "Hel—help!!" He cried out slapping at your calves "Someone! Anyone!" Yet no one came even as his face turned purple.
Across the trees, within clan grounds, Neytiri and Tsu'tey sat together, each with a baby strapped to their chest. Their ears twitched at the familiar voice pleading for his life but neither made a move. They remained where they were, preparing spices for tonight's meal but the yelling continued.
Tsu'tey blinked " Your mate is calling"
Neytiri adjusted the starp on her shoulder "He will be fine"
And with that, they went back to work.
As long as their idiotic mates didn't wake the babies, they did not care.
"Tsaya" you cooed at your baby boy. He wiggled on his back, tiny arms reaching for you.
Next to you was Jake, who was bouncing a whiny Neteyam.
You glanced at him out the corner of your eye "You're doing it wrong"
"What?" He turned to you, hand on Neteyam's head "No, i'm not"
You just raised your brows with pursed lips and went back playing with a laughing Tsaya.
Jake stared at you, fighting the urge to give in and ask. He failed.
"What could I possibly be doing wrong?" He said with an attitude more suited to an angsty teenage girl.
"Oh so now you want my help?"
"Just tell me"
You hummed "I don't know. You were kinda rude. Maybe if you said please.."
He deadpanned. "Nevermind"
But Neteyam didn't stop fussing.
You rolled your eyes and sighed. "You are too aggressive Sully. Sway, don't bounce like a maniac. Have you learned anything from Neytiri"
He scoffed but listened anyway.
And finally Neteyam calmed.
Eventually both boys were fast asleep and so you placed them in side by side baby baskets.
Jake raised a brow at you, having felt your eyes on the side of his head.
Your eyes widened, urging him for something
"What do you want?" He asked
"Seriously?" You huffed in disbelief "You are so ungrateful"
"What?
"I mean it's my bad for expecting anything from you" You turned away
"oh my—"
You cut him off "Like, would it kill you to say thank you at least once? But I guess your ego can't handle admitting that I'm a better parent than you"
"Excuse me??"
You swiveled to face him again, hands on your hips "You heard me"
"You are not better than me. and—and I was a father longer than you were a mother" he argued
"By a few months!"
"Still counts"
" At least I can get a baby to stop crying" Your tail whipped at his leg.
"Oh please, Tsaya cries more than Neteyam. Probably 'cause he has to see your face everyday" He caught your tail and tugged sharply.
Before you knew it, you both were rolling around on the floor like two wild animals.
"Tiyawn—"
Tsu'tey was cut off by the sight of Jake trapping you in a headlock.
He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion roll over his body as he stood in the kelku opening.
He glanced back, deciding whether to leave you both or to drag you apart. He choose to separate you two when he saw you open your jaw wide, no doubt with the intention of biting the skin off of Jake's forearm. His resulting yell would surely wake the babies.
"That is enough." He said firmly as if scolding children. It was only then did you two notice his presence. You both blinked at him stupidly. He sighed, stepping forward and physically yanking you from Jake's grip.
"Must you two always act like children?"
Jake got up, dusting himself off. You, whose arm was still gripped by Tsu'teys hand, looked up. It was a face Tsu'tey had seen countless times since meeting you. It was not a look of shame, but rather one that told him you were going defend yourself regardless of what the truth was.
"It's his fault" Your arm shot out in Jake's direction. Jake's jaw dropped at your audacity. "He should learn manners. Maybe then i wouldn't have teach him any"
Jake scoffed "That's rich coming from you"
Tsu'tey's thumb and forefinger came up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. "I do not care who started it. If you must behave like fools, do it away from the children"
Neither of you argued.
Neytiri gently washed Neteyam in the stream as Jake hovered next to her doing nothing but watch.
"He's always so calm when you bathe him. When I do it, I end up the one covered in water" he said
She thumbed away at a speck of dirt on Neteyam's cheek "That is because he thinks it is playtime when you do it"
"Huh…well I guess it's a win he thinks i'm fun"
A laugh sounded " How'd you know his splashing isn't because he wants to get away from you?"
Jake's tail flicked.
The corner of Neytiri's mouth twitched. He saw.
"Don't encourage her" He said
"I did not say anything" Neytiri reasoned, scooping up some water and letting it fall on Neteyam's hair.
Tsu'tey called "Tiyawn, do not start. You will rile up the boys"
"What..I'm just saying" You shrugged before washing Tsaya's hair as Tsu'tey held him up.
Jake focused his attention on his son "You like papa, don't you boy?" he cooed "Yes, you do. Your aunt is just a meanie" Neteyam clapped at him. "Yes she is. and ugly too" the boy clapped again. Jake chuckled and ruffeled his hair " 'atta boy"
Then from across the stream:
"Uncle Jake is the ugliest isn't he Tsaya" the baby gurgled.
When Jake looked up you were already staring him. You both held each other's stare. No words were exchanged but invisble daggers were shot.
"Stop it you two, and make yourselves useful" Neytiri said, having enough of your ridiculous staring contest. She handed Neteyam over to Jake to dry off and the baby immediately started wiggling more than he did when Neytiri held him.
You snorted. "See?"
Neytiri, unable to help herself, let out a small laugh.
Jake looked down at Neteyam and pouted. "Everyone is against me…"
In yours and Tsu'tey's kelku, he set down a now sleeping Tsaya before making his way to your shared hammock where you had already stretched out to sleep. His eyes caught the sight of a half shapened dagger leaning against the wall.
He picked it up, turning it around in his hands. It was clearly not finished but each cut was made with care and precision. Next to it sat a small bowl of blue beads.
"What is this, tiyawn" He asked, looking up at you as you rubbed your eyes.
You peeked over at him, seeing the dagger in his hands. "A gift" you yawned " 's Jake's birthday next week. He's been complaining about his old one."
Tsu'tey hummed, carefully placing the item back where he found it and crawled into the hammock. You settled into his arms, face nuzzeling into his chest. Tsu'tey smiled at the sight before closing his eyes.
Even though you and Jake were the most atrocious pairing to ever exist, it could not be denied that the bond between you was strong. Unbreakable.
Pairing: Tarsem x Sully!reader, Jake Sully and oldest daughter!reader
Description: Jake Sully uses his skills as Olo'eyktan to play matchmaker for his eldest daughter.
Based on this request and these suggestions.
Content Warnings: None? Jake is maybe just a hair out of character. I think he would probably be more protective realistically.
Author's note: This takes place in a AU where the humans never came back to Pandora and the Sully's stayed with the Omatikaya. I have been wanting to write for Tarsem for a minute, so this was so exciting for me!! (Why are there no pictures of him at all!! Like nothing! I know he had only a few scenes, but I need more).
Playlist:
Man I Need by Olivia Dean
“Come on, grab your gear, we're going fishing,” Your dad said, clasping his hand on your shoulder as he passed by you. Your mom and Neteyam’s heads shot up at the words, as did yours.
“Fishing?” you asked, “We already have dinner.” He grabbed his spear and waited at the door as you lagged behind, confused.
“Just get your stuff, babygirl,” he sighed, but a slight smile still played on his lips.
“Can I come?” Neteyam asked, forehead wrinkled in question and Jake’s smile wavered at disappointing his son.
“There’s something we need to discuss. Sorry ‘Teyam. Next time,” he answered.
“Uh oh… you are in trouble big sis,” Neteyam teased, turning to you. Externally, you rolled your eyes, but internally your stomach dropped. Even at 18 years old, you still felt like a child being scolded whenever your parents asked to talk to you.
You grabbed your spear and a basket and followed your father outside.
“What is it?” you asked, anxiety gnawing on your gut as he led the way to the river, passing the other families as you walked through the village.
“You’ll find out when we get there,” he replied, shaking his head at your impatience.
Your gut dropped even further when you saw him. Tarsem. Your father’s protege and your nearly life long crush.
He was sitting outside his kelku (home) with his elbows resting on his knees as he braided delicate beads onto his songchord. His little sister played at his feet and made little ikran sounds as she flew a wooden toy around. His mind looked preoccupied as he reached for more beads on the bench beside him.
“Kaltxì Tarsem (Hello Tarsem),” your dad’s voice broke Tarsem’s trance and made you avert your eyes as he looked up. Your dad’s back stopped in front of you to talk to the young warrior.
“Olo’eyktan,” Tarsem said respectfully, standing up and putting his songchord down hastily on the bench. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you),” he greeted your father, signaling the traditional hand gesture to match.
“Oel ngati kameie,” Jake responded.“Kaltxì, little Se’val,” Jake added, saying hello to Tarsem’s little sister. The second his attention was diverted, Tarsem’s gaze slid to yours and you smiled bashfully, feeling like the little girl who first realized Tarsem was growing up to be kinda cute all those years ago.
“Oel ngati kameie, y/n,” Tarsem greeted you as well, his tail snaking around his knee. His eyes locked to yours so intensely it almost made you want to scream.
“Tarsem, Oel ngati kameie” you nodded, meaning the words with all of your heart. He smiled slightly, the corners of his lips curling up a fraction and it made your heart jump.
“How did the hunting party do?” your dad asked Tarsem and he tore his eyes away from you. It felt like a sudden influx of air hit your lungs.
“Good, sir. Three talioang from the East and several yerik from the North as well,” Tarsem explained, recounting the previous day’s spoils as you turned your attention to the little girl still playing on the ground. You crouched beside her, already familiar with her quirky attitude and kind heart.
“Hello Se’val, what is Yipip up to today?” you asked, referring to the purple ikran in her hands.
“He is flying to his home up in the mountains. He has been out hunting all day like Tarsem,” she said, weaving the toy through the air and making it do a loop. You tamped down a laugh as she squawked like an ikran.
“Wow, he must be tired then, that is a lot of work,” you pointed out and she nodded.
“He is very sleepy, he needs to go to bed,” she affirmed.
“Tarsem,” you heard your dad bark. You looked up to catch the young man already staring at you as you spoke with his little sister. His face flamed purple as his head shot to Jake. “Sorry sir, what did you say?”
Your dad’s eyebrows and ears were lowered as he scoffed. “Where’s your head at? I said I need your help with the ritual tomorrow night. Kalu is doing her dreamhunt,” Jake repeated and you stood up, Se’val was in her own world anyway.
“Right, I will be there,” he nodded, avoiding eye contact with you now as if it would burn him.
“Okay…” your dad sighed, “We better be off then. You two have a good night, get some sleep.”
“Tsìltsan txon (good night),” Tarsem said, eyes finally glancing over to you and there went all the air again.
“Tsìltsan txon, Tarsem, Se’val.” you repeated, gut twisting as you tore your gaze away from his and turned your back on the two.
“Bye!” Se’val called, hand waving as her eyes still stayed locked on her game.
Your dad waved back and you turned around to wave as well only to see Tarsem’s eyes on you again. You were like a magnet drawn to him, you could not escape his eyes. Your body whirled back around to follow your dad and you tried to ignore the embarrassment and hope rising in you.
-
“So, what was that?” Your dad asked, his gaze stuck on the water in front of him, but his words were directed at you. You stood side to side in the stream, water up to your knees as you watched carefully for any fish.
Your stomach dropped, “What was what?” you asked, feigning confusion. You were a bad liar, your voice was far too pitchy for someone supposedly innocent and Jake didn't believe it for a second.
“Come on, that back there with Tarsem,” Jake prodded further.
“I don't know what you mean,” you lied. Sirens went off in your head, this was a conversation you did not want to have with your dad.
“You think I don't know my babygirl? I see the way you look at him,” He said and your cheeks flamed.
“Sempu! Is it that obvious?” you asked, hand coming up to put pressure on your temple. This was giving you a stress induced headache.
“Only because he’s looking right back,” he snorted and you closed your eyes in embarrassment. Your ears flattened at the threatened feeling taking over your senses.
“Do you like him?” he asked, finally turning to level his eyes at you, wanting to read your reaction.
You sighed, “This is not something a girl wants to talk about with her dad,” you ground out, shooting him a glare.
“Well I’m not just any dad, I’m Olo’eyktan, so you have to tell me. Do you like him?” he teased and you huffed out a laugh at his persistence.
“Yes, Sempu. I like him, I have liked him for many years.” you admitted, your hand gripping tightly to your spear.
Jake hummed, “Ah, now we get into it. He obviously likes you, why has no one made a move?” he asked, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“Because we are duty bound and shy,” you gritted out.
Jake barked out a laugh, somewhat surprised that you had an actual, honest answer. “Well, that will do it. You should talk to him, tell him how you feel,” he suggested.
It was your turn to scoff, “Yeah right, what if he does not like me back? No, I would rather not know,” you said, embarrassment already clouding your mind of just thinking about that.
“If he doesn't like you back then he’s an idiot and I’ll tan his hide into a new cumberbund,” your dad said stoically and you rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
“Be serious, Sempu,” you chided.
“I am, babygirl! Who wouldn't like you? It’s obvious he does,” your dad said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“I guess I’m just scared. I don't want to have misread him,” you explained, shoulders slumping at the defeated feeling in your gut.
“You’ll never know until you talk to him about it,” he reminded you and you nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” you agreed, but you and he both knew that when it came to matters of the heart, you’d never scrounge up the courage unless an opportunity forced you to.
“He’s a good man. No one deserves you and I wouldn’t go that far to say he does, but if someone was to come close, it would be him,” Jake said, looking at his little girl with adoring eyes.
“Thank you, sempu,” you smiled, despite the shame still plastered to your face.
“You know, I could always set up an arranged marriage between you. He'd have to like you then,” he shrugged and you could tell he was joking, or at least you hoped he was.
“That would be just perfect! Why did I not think of that?” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Jake laughed.
“Good, I’ll make it happen,” he teased back.
You sighed looking back down at the water, “We were never gonna do any fishing were we?” you asked as a Pekavol fish finally swam past you and neither of you moved.
“Nope.”
“Figures.”
-
You sat in the grass the next day near the cliffs edge, picking apart blades of grass and staring out into the sky, watching as ikrans dipped and veered. You had been lost in thought all day, so much in fact, that your mother had sent you away after you dropped one too many items and Lo’ak lost it laughing at you.
Your mind was on your conversation with your dad yesterday. Well, that and Tarsem, always Tarsem. He had occupied every waking thought in your mind and it was driving you crazy.
“I’m so sorry!” the very subject of your thoughts exclaimed, bursting through the tree line and scaring half the wits out of you. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn't know,” The words rushed out of him like a river as you gaped at him with wide eyes.
You had shot up to your feet when he emerged. “What are you talking about?” you demanded in shock.
Tarsem’s eyes narrowed, “Your dad said you were waiting for me.”
“I wasn't waiting for you, I was just… Oh. Oh no.” you stopped suddenly, eyes widening.
“What?” he panicked, stepping closer to you.
Your shoulders slumped as realization hit you, “He set us up,” you confessed, and Tarsem’s face opened into one of confusion instead of worry.
“I don't understand, what do you mean?” He shook his head.
You sighed again, “He told you I was waiting for you here so we would be forced to talk.”
“Why would he do that? We talk nearly every day," he pointed out.
You decided to grasp the last thread of courage you had and hold tight to it. You were a Sully after all. Your dad had put you in a difficult position, but you might as well take advantage of it, “Because… he says I should tell you how I feel…” you stammered, the words not coming out how you wished.
“How you feel…” Tarsem stated, staring blankly back at you. “How do you feel? Tell me,” he urged.
“That I… like you.” you continued, covering your face with your hands to hide the deep purple it was turning.
You felt rough hands grasp yours, tugging them away from your face and holding them tightly between your bodies. “You like me?” he asked, bright eyes boring into yours.
You nodded, not possessing the will to speak any longer. You could have shriveled up in embarrassment right then if the Na’vi body was capable of it.
His lips broke out into a smile, “That is convenient.” he said and your heart lept, in fear or hope, you were not sure.
“Yeah?” you asked softly.
He nodded, “Yes, because I like you too.” He smiled softly and you returned it.
“Oh!” You exclaimed brightly, “Yeah, that is fairly convenient, since you know, you will be Olo’eyktan, I am in line to be Tsahik. You like me, I like you. It is all very… convenient,” You rambled uselessly as Tarsem grinned wider.
“You are very beautiful when you blush,” he said, reaching up to trace a finger over your cheek and your breath hitched.
“Thank you,” you stuttered.
“You are welcome. May I kiss you?” he asked with more confidence than you imagined him to possess.
“Please,” you sighed as he smiled wider and hooked your chin between his finger and thumb.
He lowered his face to yours, pressing his lips against your mouth softly, barely a whisper of touch before you both relaxed, meshing together. Tarsem brought his other hand to your waist as you rested your hands on his chest, coming closer before finally separating for air.
“You’re good at that,” you chimed, a laugh running through your words.
“Thank you, yawnetu (beloved),” he smiled smuggly.
“My dad is gonna freak,” you muttered.
“We will never hear the end of it now,” he agreed.
“He will probably even threaten to kill you if you hurt me. I might take it seriously if I were you, he has done crazier things,” you explained with a worried grimace.
Tarsem nodded once grimly, “He already did, last week.”
“Oh… and you still like me? That is so sweet,” you cooed.
You had seen him watching you for three days before it became a problem.
He had come to the Omatikaya seeking uturu two weeks ago, one of four from a lowland clan whose home the RDA had taken. Toruk Makto had granted it, as he granted all genuine requests, and the four of them had been folded into the edges of clan life with the careful welcome the People extended to those who had lost everything.
Three of them had been grateful. Quiet. Learning the rhythms of a new home with their heads down and their hands open. You liked them. Had brought them food during the first difficult days when everything was still strange, had answered their questions about the forest without impatience, had done what your clan did for those who arrived with nothing.
The fourth one watched you.
You did not say anything. It was not proof of anything, a man looking. You were born to this forest, and you knew its people. You understood that grief did strange things, made people reach for things that felt solid. You had been patient. You had been kind in the way you were kind to all newcomers, no more and no less, and you hoped he would understand the shape of it.
He had not understood the shape of it.
-
It happened at the edge of the eastern grove, late in the afternoon when the light came through the canopy in long golden columns and the rest of the clan was occupied with evening preparations. You had gone alone to collect certain roots that only grew there, particular things Mo'at used in the healing rites. You had been focused on your work and not expecting company.
He appeared between the trees like he had been waiting.
You straightened slowly. Kept your face even.
"I have been trying to speak with you," he said.
"I know," you said. You kept your hands busy, crouching back to your work. "I have been busy."
"You have been avoiding me."
"I have been busy," you said again, and kept your voice even, and did not look up, and hoped he would take the shape of that and go.
He stepped closer. The undergrowth shifted under his feet. "You are courting the Olo'eyktan."
It was not a question. Something in the way he said it carried an edge beneath it that made the back of your neck go tight.
"Yes," you said.
"He is not Na'vi." Another step. "Not truly. He came from the sky people. He wears a body that is not his own. You are Omatikaya born and raised, you have roots in this forest that go deeper than his ever will, and you are wasting—"
"I would ask you to stop there." You stood, and turned, and met his eyes, because you had learned from watching Jake that some conversations required you to take up your full space.
"What I choose is not something I need counsel on. I am spoken for. I am not interested. I say this without cruelty and with respect for what you have lost, but I will not say it again. Go back to the village."
Something shifted in his face. Something that had been beneath the surface the whole time, waiting.
"You do not dismiss me," he said, low.
"I am not dismissing you. I am asking—"
His hand closed around your wrist.
Not gently. A hard grip, the kind that said he did not intend to let you finish the sentence or move away from him, and something cold moved through your chest that you recognized as fear. You did not feel fear often. You were Omatikaya. You had grown up in this forest and learned its dangers and faced them without flinching, and the fact that fear was what moved through you now, here, among your own trees, made something underneath the cold go very, very still.
"Let go of me," you said, quietly.
He did not let go.
You did not think after that. Your free hand came up and struck across his face, open-palmed, the heel of your hand connecting hard enough to snap his head to the side, because you had been trained since childhood and you were not without your own strength and you were not going to stand in your own forest and be held against your will.
He turned back to you slowly.
His expression was the last thing you saw clearly before everything moved very fast.
-
You walked back to the village with your arms wrapped around yourself, your eyes fixed on the path, and your jaw set in the way your mother had always said meant you were trying not to feel something.
Your lip had split. You could taste it, copper and salt. The left side of your face held a heat that pulsed with your heartbeat and would be something worse by morning. Your wrist, where he had grabbed you first, ached in the low, steady way that meant bruising was already happening beneath the skin. When you looked at your wrist, the marks of his fingers were already visible, dark against the blue of your skin.
You stopped walking and looked at it for a long moment.
Then you looked up and kept going.
You did not go to the healers. Ralu would ask questions and her voice would carry and by nightfall the whole clan would know and it would become large and loud when all you wanted was for it to be small and contained and manageable.
You did not go to Neytiri, who would read it in your face before you said a word and whose reaction would be immediate and thorough and would involve her mother and her bow.
You did not go to Jake.
You went to your own kelku and sat down against the far wall in the dark and wrapped your arms around yourself and breathed steadily. The way your mother had taught you when you were small, and the world felt too large. You were fine. You were home. You were safe in your own walls.
You told yourself this and waited for it to become true.
-
Jake found you the way he always found you, without particular effort, like something in him simply oriented toward you without being asked.
You heard his footsteps on the path and knew them immediately, two years of listening, and you turned your face toward the wall before he came through the entrance. You arranged yourself into something that looked like tiredness and kept your voice ready and told yourself the kelku was dim enough.
"Hey, baby." His voice was easy, the low comfortable register he used when the day was done and nothing was required of him. The voice that meant he had come just to find you, no reason, just because you were where he wanted to be. "Didn't see you at the fire. Neytiri said you came back early."
You kept your face toward the wall. "I was tired. It's been a long day."
A pause. Shorter than you wanted it to be.
"Yeah?" He came further into the kelku. His footsteps slowed. "You eat anything?"
"I'll eat in the morning."
Another pause. Longer.
Then, quietly: "Hey. Look at me."
"I'm fine, Jake. I just need to—"
"Look at me."
Not loud. Not sharp. Just steady and immovable in the way Jake was immovable when he had decided something, and you knew that voice, had heard it across battlefields and council fires and every kind of hard moment, and you knew it would not move.
You didn't move either. You kept your eyes on the woven wall and your breathing even and hoped.
Then he crossed the kelku and crouched down in front of you, bringing himself to your level, and you could feel him looking at the side of your face even with your eyes turned away. He didn't reach for you. He just waited, down there on your level, patient and present and not going anywhere.
"There it is," he said, very quietly. Not to you. To himself. Like he had already seen enough from the angle he had.
"Jake—"
"Look at me." Said so gently this time that it undid something in you completely.
Your eyes filled before you turned your head. You hated that. You turned anyway, slowly, and he was right there, close, his expression doing the thing it did when he was holding something very tightly inside himself so that you wouldn't have to see it yet.
His hand came up slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, and his fingers curled beneath your chin, and he turned your face toward the faint light from the entrance with a care so deliberate it made your throat ache.
He looked at your lip. Your cheek. He reached out and, with the back of one finger, moved your hair away from the bruising along your jaw.
The silence was the worst part. Jake loud was manageable. Jake quiet like this was something else entirely.
"Who did this to you," he said.
"I didn't want you to see it like this, I was going to—"
"Who did this to you."
Low. Flat. Patient in a way that had nothing to do with calm.
Your eyes spilled over before you could stop them, which you resented deeply, and the whole thing you had been holding in the walk back from the eastern grove came loose at once.
"Kertan," you said. "The lowlander. He followed me to the eastern grove and I told him to go back and he grabbed my wrist and I hit him and then he—" your voice held steady through sheer discipline, "—he did not take that well."
Jake's jaw shifted. A small movement. Controlled.
"Your wrist," he said.
You held it out. He took it in both hands and turned it over in the dim light and the bruising that had darkened there, the clear distinct marks of fingers, made his hands go very still around yours for one long moment.
"Anywhere else," he said.
"My arms. My face. Jake, I'm alright, I handled myself, he just—"
"You're sitting alone in the dark with your face turned to the wall." Said without judgment. Just plainly, the way he stated things that were simply true.
You had nothing to say to that.
He was quiet for a long moment. You watched him breathe, in and out, steady and measured, the kind of breathing that meant he was deciding something very carefully.
"I'm going to go to Mo'at," he said, still crouched in front of you. "Get what she has for the bruising. I'll be back."
"You don't have to—"
"I'll be back." Quieter. He reached out and took your bruised wrist in both hands, carefully, and turned it over. Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the inside of it, so gently you felt it everywhere. He held it there for a moment before he let go.
Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead. Stayed there. His eyes were closed.
He pulled back and looked at you.
"Stay here," he said. "I mean it."
You nodded.
He left.
He did not go directly to Mo'at.
He told himself he would. He walked the path toward the healer's dwelling with every intention of doing exactly what he had said, and then his feet took him past it, toward the outer edge of the village where the newcomers had been given shelter, and he did not correct them.
Tsu'tey was coming the other way on the path.
He stopped when he saw Jake. His eyes moved over his face, took in the set of his jaw and the direction he was walking, and that was all he needed. He didn't ask. He turned and fell into step beside him without a word, and Jake didn't look at him, and neither of them spoke, because nothing needed to be said. They had come out the other side of enough together that this was simply what it was.
Kertan was awake when they came through the entrance.
Jake looked at him for a moment. Kertan looked back, and started to speak, and Jake crossed the space and hit him before he finished the sentence. He went down hard and Jake stood over him and waited until his eyes focused again.
"You put your hands on her," Jake said. Low. Quiet. The voice that had nothing left in it but the thing itself. "In her own forest. You grabbed her wrist and when she defended herself you made her bleed." He crouched down, bringing himself level, and his voice dropped further. "She walked home alone and sat in the dark. That is what you did to her."
He let that sit for a moment.
"She is mine," Jake said. "I am hers. That is not a small thing and it is not something you were ever going to change." He stood, slowly. "I am Olo'eyktan of this clan. Every woman, every hunter, every child in it is under my protection. That does not stop at the edge of the village and it does not have exceptions." His voice stayed level and it was worse for it. "You will stand before this clan at dawn and answer for what you did. And then you will be gone."
He held Kertan's gaze for a moment longer. Then he stepped back.
Tsu'tey had not moved from the entrance the entire time. He looked at Kertan once, a single sweep that conveyed everything Jake had said and several things he hadn't, and turned and walked out.
When they left, Kertan was awake but had decided lying very still was his best option.
Jake went to Mo'at.
She was awake, as Mo'at always seemed to be when something had happened, and she looked at the state of his hands without expression and waited.
"One of the lowlanders," Jake said. "He followed Y/N to the eastern grove. Grabbed her wrist, wouldn't let her go. She hit him and he—" he stopped for a moment. "Her face. Her arms. She came home alone and sat in the dark."
Mo'at was quiet.
Mo'at looked at him for a long moment. "She has always carried things quietly," she said. "It is her way. It does not mean she should carry them alone." She turned to her stores and began gathering what was needed, her hands moving with unhurried efficiency. "You found her."
"Yeah."
"Then she did not carry it alone." She pressed the salve and the cloth into his hands and met his eyes. "She is well?"
"She will be."
Mo'at held his gaze, reading whatever was in it with those pale eyes that never seemed to miss anything. Then she glanced at his split knuckles, and back up at his face, and the look she gave him was not quite approval and not quite reprimand and contained both entirely.
"Good," she said, and went back to what she had been doing.
-
You were where he had left you when he came back, which meant you had actually listened to him, which meant you were more shaken than you had let on and you both knew it.
He sat down beside you without ceremony, close, his shoulder against yours, and opened the small pot Mo'at had given him. The salve inside was dark green and smelled of things that grew deep in the forest, cool and sharp and familiar.
"Give me your wrist," he said.
You did.
He applied the salve with the same deliberate care he'd used when he'd turned your face to the light, working it gently into the bruised skin, and you watched his hands and tried not to think about how much of yourself you had handed over simply by letting him in tonight.
He moved to your cheek next. Your jaw. The split of your lip, barely a touch, careful as anything.
When he was done you looked at his hands properly for the first time and saw the split knuckles. Two of them, on his right hand, the skin broken in a way that had not been there when he left.
You reached out and took his hand before he could put the salve away.
He let you.
You worked the salve into his knuckles in silence, and he sat still and let you do it, and neither of you said anything for a while. The forest moved outside, soft and dark and alive.
"He's still breathing," Jake said, eventually.
"I know," you said. "Or you wouldn't be here. You'd be in front of my father explaining yourself."
Something shifted in his face that was almost a smile and didn't quite make it. "Tsu'tey helped."
"Of course he did."
"He was already waiting."
"Of course he was."
Jake exhaled. You finished with his knuckles and held his hand a moment longer than necessary and then let go. He looked at you, and then without a word he shifted, lying down on your sleeping mat and opening his arm in the way that asked without demanding. You settled against him, your head on his chest, and his arm came around you and held on.
You leaned into the warmth of him and felt the tension still in his body, contained, managed, Jake carrying what remained of the night so you didn't have to.
"I didn't want you to see it," you said, quietly. "I didn't want it to become this."
"I know," he said. "I'm glad I saw it."
You were quiet for a moment. "What are you going to do. Tomorrow."
"What needs to be done," he said.
You thought about that. Felt something loosen in your chest that you hadn't fully realized was still wound tight.
"Good," you said.
He pressed his lips to the top of your head and held them there. "Sleep," he said. "I've got you."
You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat and let the warmth of him and the smell of the salve and the familiar sounds of the forest do what they did best, and sleep came faster than you expected.
-
Jake did not sleep for a long time after.
He lay still with your head on his chest and listened to your breathing slow and even out against his collarbone and stared at the ceiling of the kelku and tried to let the night settle into something he could hold.
He watched your chest rise and fall. The slow, steady rhythm of it. Up and down. Up and down.
He looked at the bruising along your jaw in the dark, the faint shadow of it visible even now, and he made himself look at it, made himself sit with it instead of looking away, because looking away didn't help anybody and he had learned that a long time ago.
You were here. You were breathing. You were warm against his side and your face was relaxed in sleep and you were safe in your own walls.
He told himself this several times. Let it work on him the way the salve had worked on your skin, slow and quiet, doing its job in the dark.
He thought about two years. About every morning you had found each other. About the way you looked when you were about to say something you found funny, about how you had never once made him feel like less for being in a body that wasn't born here the way yours was. About how you were the first thing he wanted to find at the beginning and end of any given day.
He looked at your face in the dark and felt something so large move through him that it was almost hard to hold.
He was still awake when the forest shifted from night to the earliest grey suggestion of morning. Only then did he finally let himself close his eyes.
-
He was up before you woke.
When you opened your eyes the kelku was full of pale early light and Jake was sitting beside you freshly returned from the river, and on the ground next to you was your water vessel, filled, a portion of food from the morning preparations, and the salve pot left open in case you needed it.
You looked at all of this for a moment. Then at him.
"Morning," he said.
"Morning." You sat up slowly, and before you could say anything else he was already reaching for you, his fingers gentle at your jaw, tilting your face toward the morning light the same way he had the night before. He looked at your cheek. Your lip. Your wrist where the bruising had deepened overnight into something dark and visible.
"How are you feeling," he said.
"Sore," you admitted. "Better than last night."
He looked at you for a moment longer, reading something in your face that satisfied him enough. He reached for the salve pot and worked a little more into your wrist without being asked, careful and unhurried, and then he handed you the food he had brought and stood.
"Come on," he said, holding out his hand. "You should be there."
The clan gathered the way it gathered for all things that required witness, drawn by the quiet word that had moved through the village since first light. You stood beside Neytiri, who had taken one look at your face that morning and gone very still in a way that meant she was only keeping herself together for your sake, and her hand found yours and held on.
Jake stood at the center of the gathering space. Tsu'tey stood slightly behind and to his right with his arms crossed and an expression that could have curdled water.
Kertan was brought forward.
He looked at Jake and then at the assembled clan and at the faces around him, and whatever he had thought the morning might hold for him, you could see it revising itself in real time.
Jake waited until it was fully quiet.
"You came to this clan with nothing," he said. His voice was not even now, it had an edge to it, controlled but present, the kind that made people go still. "You were given shelter. Food. Safety. The welcome of the People, which is not a small thing and is not given without thought."
He paused, and when he continued, his voice had dropped into something quieter and more dangerous. "You repaid that welcome by following a woman of this clan into the forest. By putting your hands on her. By leaving marks on her."
A sharp intake of breath moved through the gathering. Then murmurs, low and angry. Someone hissed, and it was not alone.
Jake let it settle.
"She came home alone and sat in the dark." The pause that followed was short and sharp. "She should never have had to do that."
The murmuring deepened. Around you people shifted, drew closer together, and Neytiri's hand in yours tightened.
"You are no longer welcome here," Jake said. "You will leave today. You will not come back." His eyes held Kertan's and did not move. "If I ever see your face at the edge of this forest again, you will regret it. That is not a threat. It is the only warning you will get."
The silence that followed had weight to it.
Kertan looked at Jake with something that had nowhere left to go and nothing left to stand on.
Then the eldest of the three remaining lowlanders stepped forward from the edge of the gathering. She held herself straight, her hands open at her sides, and when she spoke her voice was clear enough for the whole clan to hear.
"We ask to speak," she said.
Jake looked at her. Nodded once.
"What he did does not represent us," she said. "It does not represent our clan, or the people we were taught to be, or the gratitude we carry for the welcome we were given here." She looked briefly toward you where you stood beside Neytiri, and her expression was pained and genuine. "We are sorry. We are deeply sorry that this happened in a place that was made safe for us. It should never have happened."
The other two echoed it, quiet and sincere, heads lowered.
Jake looked at them for a moment. When he spoke again the edge was gone, replaced by something steadier.
"What happened here is not on you," he said. "You have conducted yourselves with nothing but respect since the day you arrived. The choices he made are his alone, and they will follow him alone." He held the eldest woman's gaze. "Your uturu stands. You are welcome here for as long as you choose to stay. The People do not punish the honorable for the failures of those beside them."
Another murmur from the clan. This one warmer.
Tsu'tey smiled. It was not a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who had been waiting for exactly this and found it satisfying in every particular.
Kertan left before midday.
Tsu'tey was the one who watched him go.
You found Jake at the edge of the village afterward, looking out at the forest with his arms loose at his sides and his shoulders finally down from where they had been all morning.
You came up beside him and he turned his head and looked at you, really looked, the way he had in the kelku last night with your face tipped toward the light, like he was checking that you were still whole.
"Hey," he said, quietly.
"Hey," you said.
He opened his arm and you stepped into his side without needing to be asked, and his arm came around you and held on, and for a while neither of you said anything. The forest moved around you, green and endless and breathing, entirely yours.
"You didn't have to do it publicly," you said.
"Yeah," he said. "I did."
You looked up at him.
"You tried to make it small," he said. "So it wouldn't cost anyone anything. So nobody would have to make a fuss." His arm tightened around you. "It needed to cost him something. In front of people. So everyone in this clan knows what it means to be one of them."
You held his gaze for a moment, and something in your chest that had been carefully wound since yesterday afternoon finally, fully let go.
"Thank you," you said.
He pressed his lips to the top of your head and left them there for a long moment.
"Always, baby," he said, soft and easy, the human words slipping out the way they did sometimes when it was just the two of you and he forgot to translate himself. "Always."
You leaned into him and let the forest hold you both.
Fem sully request! Reader gets majorly injured and hides it from her parents thinking Jake is going to be mad at her. The only reason they find out she’s injured is her collapsing into Neytiri’s arms, in pain. Ps sorry if this sends twice my requests aren’t working properly
Thought He’d Be Mad
Masterlist
You don’t mean for it to happen. That’s the worst part.
It isn’t reckless like Lo’ak. It isn’t brave like Neteyam. It’s just one wrong step during a scouting run along the cliffs near the reef a loose edge of rock beneath your foot, a sharp drop you don’t see until you’re already sliding.
You catch yourself before you fall far. But not before something tears deep along your side.
It burns. Hot and immediate.
You bite back the sound that wants to escape your throat and cling to the rock until your vision steadies. When you finally manage to pull yourself upright, your hand comes away slick.
The cut is bad. Long. Deeper than you want to admit. You stare at it for a moment, heart pounding, and the first thought that fills your mind is not I’m hurt. It’s: Dad is going to be furious. Not because he doesn’t love you. But because he does.
Because he is always talking about safety, about sticking together, about not taking unnecessary risks. Because the war is barely behind you and he watches all of you like something might snatch you away at any second.
You can already hear it in your head. What were you thinking. Why didn’t you call someone? You don’t run off alone like that. So you wrap it.
You tear part of your sash and tie it tightly around your ribs. You rinse it quickly in seawater, swallow against the sting, and straighten your posture before returning to the village.
No one notices at first. You’re careful.
You sit down slowly. You avoid stretching too far. You laugh when Tuk bumps into you even though it makes white hot pain shoot through your side.
At dinner, you stay quiet. Jake glances at you once. "You’re quiet,” he says. You shrug. “Just tired.” He nods, accepting it, but his eyes linger half a second too long. The bleeding hasn’t stopped.
You can feel it, warm and steady beneath the fabric. By the next morning, it’s worse. Your body feels heavy. Your head swims when you stand too fast. Every breath pulls against torn muscle.
You tell yourself it’s fine. You’ve had worse. You can handle it. You always handle it. Training begins like normal.
Jake is instructing Lo’ak on spear balance while Neteyam demonstrates form. Neytiri stands nearby, correcting posture with gentle touches.
You try to follow along. But when you raise your arm fully, the world tilts. Your vision spots. You swallow hard. Not now.
You take one step backward to steady yourself. Then another. Your mother turns just as your knees give out.
You don’t even realize you’re falling until you’re already in her arms. The pain hits fully when you collapse, no more pretending, no more holding yourself upright.
It rips through you so violently that a broken sound tears from your throat before you can stop it. Neytiri drops to her knees with you, cradling you instantly. “My daughter?” Her voice sharpens with alarm. “What is wrong?”
Jake is there in seconds. “What happened?” You shake your head weakly. “It’s nothing—” But your mother’s hand brushes against your side.
It comes away red. Everything goes still. Jake’s face changes. Not anger. Something worse. Fear.
He pulls the fabric away despite your weak protest, revealing the wound beneath, angry, deep, still bleeding.
His jaw tightens. “When?” he demands. You can’t meet his eyes. “Yesterday.” Silence. The kind that presses heavy on your chest.
“Yesterday?” His voice rises, not in rage, but disbelief. “You’ve been walking around like this since yesterday?” You flinch. And that that is what breaks him. You shrink back slightly, instinctively, like you’re bracing for anger.
Jake sees it. He sees the way you brace. And something inside him caves in. He softens instantly. “Oh,” he breathes. Neytiri is already pressing cloth to your side, calling for herbs, for help, her hands steady even though her breathing is not.
Jake kneels in front of you. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he asks, quieter now. You blink up at him, tears slipping free despite your effort to stop them. “I thought… you’d be mad.” The words barely make it out. He freezes.
“Mad?” he repeats. You nod faintly. “You’re always saying to be careful. I didn’t want to mess up.” For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. Then he moves closer, one large hand carefully cupping the side of your face.
“Listen to me,” he says, voice low and steady in a way it hasn’t been since you collapsed. “I don’t get mad because you make mistakes. I get scared because I can’t lose you.” Your breath stutters.
“You think I care more about rules than you?” he continues softly. “I would rather hear about every stupid decision you ever make than have you hiding something like this.”
Neytiri presses her forehead gently to your temple. “You are never alone in pain,” she murmurs. You didn’t realize how tightly you’d been holding yourself together until that moment. The tears come freely now. “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you whisper. Jake’s expression cracks.
“You could never do that,” he says immediately. He presses his forehead to yours careful, grounding. “You’re allowed to mess up,” he adds. “You’re not allowed to disappear on me.” Neytiri hums softly as she works, the sound low and comforting, like when you were small and scraped your knees climbing trees you were told not to climb. The pain doesn’t vanish.
But it feels lighter somehow. Because you’re not holding it alone anymore. Later, when the wound is stitched and bound properly, Jake sits beside you outside the marui while the sun lowers over the water. “You scared me,” he admits quietly.
You glance at him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head. “No. I need to make sure you know something.” You wait. “You never have to choose between being honest and keeping me calm,” he says. “I’ll handle my fear. You just come to me.” You lean your head against his shoulder carefully. “Okay.”
His arm wraps around you gently. “Good.” And for the first time since the cliff, you let yourself rest without pretending you’re stronger than you feel.
And if i said jake’s resentment of lo’ak is rooted in his resentment for himself and the humanistic qualities in him that get the people he loves killed.
