- cw: lower case intended, aged up!neteyam, smut, p in v, humans can breathe the air, virgin!reader, mention of masturbation, neteyam keeps talking about his imagination, fingering, oral (fem receiving), cum eating, dirty talk, size difference (not explicitly mentioned but reader is human soo), neteyam’s kinda possessive, slight belly bulging. let me know if i missed anything!
- an: apologies if this seems rushed. also, so sad we only got glimpses of neteyam in the third movie, i miss my mannn.
- wc: 4.5k
- summary: you and neteyam were inseparable as children. like spider, you were a human left behind, raised among the omatikaya, growing up with pandora as the only home you ever truly knew. when quaritch and the recoms forced jake sully and his family to flee, neteyam disappeared with them, leaving you behind for years of silence and unanswered feelings.
that is, until he returns.
༻༺
you don’t remember a time before pandora.
the forest has always been there in your memories. the hum of insects at dusk, the way the leaves glowed beneath your bare feet, the smell of rain clinging to everything. you learned the paths before you learned to read, learned which branches could hold your weight, which plants to avoid, which ones neteyam swore were “harmless” right before you proved him wrong.
neteyam had always been there too, along with kiri, lo’ak, tuk and spider of course.
you grew up at his side, trailing after him and his siblings like it was the most natural thing in the world. he taught you how to climb when your human hands slipped, how to keep quiet when the forest went still, how to laugh when you fell instead of crying. sometimes he carried you on his back when you got tired, grumbling the whole time but never once leaving you behind.
you were different, you always knew that, smaller, softer, human. but with him, it never felt like something that mattered. you belonged because he said you did. because the sullys said you did.
those days feel impossibly distant now.
you remember the tension creeping in before everything changed. the way the adults spoke in hushed voices, the way neteyam stopped laughing so easily. you didn’t understand gravity of it then, only that something was wrong. that the forest felt heavier. that goodbye came too fast.
one day, they were there.
the next, they were gone.
the forest felt wrong after that. too big. too quiet. you still walked the same paths, still slept beneath the same stars, but everything felt tilted, like pandora itself had shifted without him in it. you told yourself you were fine. you had to be.
norm and max stayed.
they became your anchors in a way you hadn’t expected. the lab, once overwhelming, all blinking lights and foreign sounds, slowly turned into something familiar. safe. you still visited the clan occasionally, although no way near as much as you once had. you learned how to calibrate equipment, how to catalogue samples, how to keep your hands steady even when your chest felt tight with missing someone you weren’t sure you were allowed to miss this much.
you grew up between microscopes and memory.
years passed like that. quietly. you traded scraped knees and borrowed na’vi clothes for data pads and human fabric that felt strange against skin used to vines and leaves. you still visited the forest, pandora was home, always would be, but you were changing, just as much as everything else.
and then one day..
“they’re back!”
the words didn’t register at first.
your hands stilled over the lab bench. the hum of machinery faded into a dull roar in your ears. they’re back. which meant..
no. you didn’t let yourself think it. not yet.
when they arrived, it was chaos. voices overlapping, na’vi gathering, the air thick with emotion and relief and something heavier underneath. you hung back near the edge, heart pounding so hard you were sure everyone could hear it.
and then you saw him.
neteyam stood just behind his father, taller than you remembered, broader, scarred in ways that made your chest ache. the boy who you remembered to be, was gone. in his place stood a warrior, quiet, alert, eyes sharper than before.
his gaze swept the crowd.
and then it landed on you.
for a split second, something cracked in his composure. not enough for anyone else to notice, but you did. you always had. his eyes widened, just barely, like he was seeing a ghost.
you weren’t the same either.
you saw it in the way his gaze lingered, uncertain, like he was trying to reconcile who you were now with the memory of the human kid who used to sit beside him, legs swinging, asking too many questions.
too much time had passed. too many things left unsaid.
but he was here.
he was here and it felt surreal.
you couldn’t move, feet rooted to the ground and you observed the surroundings. around you, people moved, embraces, voices, relief spilling out in bursts but all of it blurred at the edges. all you could see was him.
however, you broke eye contact first.
it wasn’t dramatic, no rush, no stumble, just a quiet decision made. this wasn’t your moment. it shouldn’t be. he’d just returned from years of hiding, fighting, surviving. his family was there, his clan, people who had mourned him as much as they’d waited. whatever this tight, aching thing was in your chest didn’t get to come before that.
so you stepped back.
you slipped through the edge of the crowd, boots soft against the forest floor, the sounds of reunion fading behind you. laughter, choked voices, someone crying openly. it felt wrong to intrude on it with everything you didn’t know how to say. you told yourself you were being sensible. kind, even. he deserved time. space.
you didn’t want to be selfish. and even more, maybe those feelings you felt years ago were one sided. maybe neteyam didn’t feel the same way you did.
the lab welcomed you back with sterile light and familiar hums. too quiet compared to the forest, but steady. you busied yourself with anything you could reach, data logs, recalibrations, a half-finished report you’d already rewritten twice. your hands worked on muscle memory alone, because your mind kept drifting back to the way his eyes had widened when he saw you.
hours passed.
max and norm both questioned why you hadn’t gone to greet them all yet, but you didn’t have a proper answer.
you were bent over a console, pretending very hard to read numbers that refused to make sense, when a shadow crossed the doorway.
you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
the air shifted, subtle, instinctive, the way it always had around him.
“you didn’t come say hi,” neteyam said.
his voice was deeper now. rougher. it sent a warm feeling through your body.
you turned slowly, schooling your expression into something neutral, professional. safe. “you just got back,” you said, like it explained everything. “i figured you’d want to be with your family… your clan.”
for a moment, he just watched you. really watched you. not like before.
“i looked for you,” he said quietly.
“you had a lot of people looking for you,” you reply casually. “i thought… you’d want time with them first.”
neteyam exhales through his nose, something between a huff and a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. he steps closer, careful, like he’s not sure if you’ll bolt if he moves too fast.
neteyam eyes flicker over you, slow, deliberate, taking in the way you’ve changed. his tail twitches behind him, restless.
"you’re taller," he blurts out, voice rough. his gaze lingering on your legs, your waist, the curve of your lips.
you swallow hard.
“taller.” that’s all he says? after years? your fingers tighten around the edge of the console, grounding yourself. "and you’re… broader." the words slip out before you can stop them, your traitorous eyes skimming over his chest, the new scars mapping his skin like stories he never got to tell you.
a beat of silence.
his lips quirk. just barely. "you noticed."
your face burns. “damn him”
neteyam steps closer, the scent of him curling around you. too close. your pulse stutters when his tail sways, brushing your thigh. accidentally? you doubt it.
"you left," you blurt, hating how small your voice sounds.
his amusement fades. "i didn’t have a choice."
"You could’ve sent something, tried to communicate with me.” you muttered.
“it was hard when you all left, the only family i felt like i had.”
"i tried." his jaw tenses. "messages got intercepted. people got hurt."
you bit your lip.
neteyam exhales, running a hand through his braids. "you cut your hair." he changes the subject.
you resist the urge to reach for the shorter strands. "it got in the way."
he hummed, his gaze drops to your neck, exposed now. "i liked it long."
“it’s not that much shorter.” you replied.
the air between you thickens, is it awkwardness or just tension? you really can’t tell.
just then, lo’ak swings through the door unceremoniously, his carefree attitude cutting through the thick tension in the air. he takes a moment to take in the scene. neteyam and you are standing close, conversation halted in its tracks. lo’ak lifts an eyebrow, noticing something is off, but his usual smirk remains intact. "you two look serious." he quips, leaning against the console with ease.
neteyam takes a subtle step back, his expression guarded. "we’re just talking." his voice is casual, but there's a hint of irritation.
lo'ak chuckles, his gaze flickering between them. "just talking? looks like it was getting a little heated in here."
“not really.” you butted in, “he was just mentioning my hair.”
lo’ak’s smirk widens at your response, clearly not buying what you said. "right," he drawls, crossing his arms.
neteyam shoots him a glare, tail flicking in annoyance.
lo'ak just shrugs, unfazed. "anyway, dad wants you. something about perimeter checks." he glances at you again, then back at neteyam. "unless you're busy…?”
neteyam exhales sharply through his nose. "i'm coming."
as he moves to follow lo'ak, his fingers brush against yours deliberately, before he pulls away completely. the brief contact sends a wave of heat to your cheeks.
it was innocent enough, but being human on pandora, you never really received any sort of attention from boys, let alone contact.
lo'ak, oblivious to the silent exchange, claps neteyam on the back. "great! because dad’s in one of his moods..”
the door slides shut behind them, leaving you alone in the lab.
later that night, you couldn’t sleep.
your bedroom felt suffocating, so you slipped outside, letting pandora’s night air cool your skin. the glowing flora pulses softly underfoot as you wander deeper into the trees, trying and failing not to think about neteyam.
you felt like you were a kid again, before the events unravelled.
just you and the forest.
the only difference being you in your human pyjamas, rather than the loincloth and top you used to wear.
a twig snaps behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
you turn, pulse jumping. only to find neteyam standing there, his silhouette haloed by bioluminescence.
“you followed me," you accuse.
he steps closer, his gaze dark. "yeah." no excuses. no pretenses.
it caught you off guard.
“i was heading over to see you, then saw you leaving so i followed behind.” he replied.
you simply observed.
it made sense.
he made his way over to you, ducking through branches and other greenery.
his fingers trace the edge of your jaw, his touch feather-light, maddening. “i thought about you, you know?” “every damn night under those same stars. wondering if you still looked up at them. if you… missed me."
you gulp as you watch him.
his thumb presses against your bottom lip, dragging it down just slightly. his pupils are blown wide, dark with something raw.
"and when missing you got too much?" he leans in, his next words whispered against your skin, “ i touched myself imagining it was your hands on me."
your stomach clenches, heat pooling low.
neteyam’s words hung thickly in the air, the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. you were short for words, shocked at his sudden confession.
your heart hammered in your chest, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling inside you. you swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself before responding. "neteyam, i..." your voice trailed off, uncertain of what to say, but he took another step closer, his tail wrapping around your waist almost possessively.
his hand slid up to cradle your face, his touch sending sparks across your skin.
"sometimes..." his thumb traced the shape of your bottom lip, his voice low and raspy. "sometimes i’d close my eyes, pretend you were with me."
His eyes moved over you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat.
"and i’d think about you in those moments... how I would touch you, if you were there."
his breath warmed your neck as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “i’d imagine you here… like this… under the stars we both looked up at.”
a shiver raced down your spine as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.
“remember that hollow in the cliffs? where we used to hide from lo’ak during games?” his voice was rough, low. “i’d imagine me lying there at night and picture you beside me.. under me.”
your breath hitched.
“i’d imagine pushing your shirt up slow,” he murmured, one hand sliding along your waist, fingers teasing beneath the fabric, “feeling how soft your skin is, how warm. i used to wonder if you'd arch into my touch like this…” he pressed his palm flat against the small of your back and pushed, just enough to make you gasp.
“and i always imagined,” he whispered against your jaw, “that when I finally kissed you here, really kissed you.. you’d taste even sweeter than i imagined.”
his hips shifted forward, the slightest grind, and a low sound escaped him.
“that’s when i would of slipped my hand down,” his thumb hooked into the waistband of your pyjamas, “you wouldn’t stop me.”
you let out a small whimper.
“i dreamt about feeling how wet you get for me,” he admitted hoarsely. “wondered if those quiet little noises would be enough to drive me wild after years of waiting.” he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
"you kept me up late," he murmured, teeth grazing your skin.
his mouth moved lower, along your collarbone, nipping at it teasingly.
“teyam..” you whined quietly.
"shhh," he hushed, voice thick with want. his hips pressed firmer against yours, letting you feel every hard inch of him. "my little scientist... finally letting me taste what's been mine all along?"
his hand slid lower, past your hips, down to the back of your thigh and hooked it up around his waist. you gasped as he lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the tree.
"i imagined this too," he growled into your ear. "you wrapped around me, just like that night by the waterfall when we were younger.”
you bit your lip as the memory came flooding back in, you forgot about that.
"i dreamed about making you cum under these stars," he whispered raggedly, tail curling tighter around your waist like a promise. "with my mouth on you.. my name on your lips..”
he finally dipped his hand beneath the hem of your pyjamas, soft fabric sliding aside and brushed one fingertip over damp heat.
he groaned low in his chest.
“shit.. no panties?”
“i.. i don’t wear any to bed.” you replied sheepishly.
he let out a rough, pleased noise. half-growl, half-laugh.
“good,” he breathed. “means I don’t have to tear anything off you.”
his finger dragged through your folds slowly, once, twice, making you whimper and arch against him. “you’re already so wet…”
“you made me wait years,” you gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “of course I’m..” you let out a mewl, “ready for you..”
he smirked, adding pressure just where you needed it. “i used to dream about how tight you’d feel around my fingers… my cock.” he slid one deep inside with no warning, slow, deep, and your head fell back against the tree as a moan tore from your throat.
“like that?” he purred.
you nodded ferociously as his thumb found your clit, circling with torturous precision. "tell me," he murmured, voice thick, "how many nights did you lie awake thinking of me?"
you cried out, hips jerking forward. "n-neteyam!”
"answer me." he added pressure, relentless. "did you touch yourself? imagine it was my hand? my mouth?"
a broken sob escaped you. "yes!..” you whined. “almost nightly!..” you followed up.
he continued pumping his fingers in, out, in, out, for a good few minutes.
his fingers curled inside you just right and suddenly, the world shattered. a sharp cry ripped from your throat as heat exploded low in your belly, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you came hard around his fingers, wet and trembling, your knees nearly giving out.
neteyam didn’t pull away. didn’t stop.
he held you through it, thumb still circling the bud gently as the tremors faded, watching your face with fascination.
he slowly slid his soaked fingers free, and without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his lips and sucked them clean.
your breath caught at the sight, the raw hunger in his eyes, as dropped to his knees in front of you.
his glowing eyes locked onto yours as he hooked your pyjama shorts around his fingers and yanked them down over trembling hips.
his nose brushed your inner thigh.
his hands slid up the underside of you knees, spreading your legs wider.
“look at her.. perfect.” he mumbled under his breath as he looked almost star-struck.
you watched, breath heaving, as he pressed light, worshiping kisses up the inside of your thigh, his eyes locked onto yours.
he looked wrecked, just from watching you cum.
his breath was hot against your skin. "you’re so beautiful," he murmured.
then he exhaled low, like a prayer, and lowered his mouth to your cunt, still pulsing from your release. he lapped up at your cunt with slow, deep strokes of his tongue.
"you taste even better than I dreamed," he groaned against you.
your fingers fisted into his hair as he circled your clit with his tongue, before he moved further down and began teasing your entrance.
he didn't let up. just held you steady with strong hands on your hips and drank from you like a starved man.
he groaned against your heat, the sound vibrating through you. “so sweet… mine.”
every flick of his tongue was deliberate. slow at first, savoring, like he had years to make up for. then deeper, hungrier. his nose brushing your clit as he devoured you with quiet desperation.
you gasped, back arching off the tree as his thumbs spread you wider and ‘yes..’ “there!” that wicked swirl right over your most sensitive spot.
“you gonna come again?” he murmured between licks, voice rough with need. “right on my face?”
You could only whimper in return, but it was enough.
because neteyam growled low in his chest and dove back in like a man possessed, licking deep into your folds, circling your clit with maddening precision before sucking it gently into his mouth.
stars blurred above you. the forest pulsed beneath. and all that existed was this, him between your legs, the way his name broke from your lips like a prayer..
“neteyam… i’m.. i’m gonna..”
his ears twitched at the sound, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue swirling faster, sucking gently as one hand slipped beneath to cup your ass, pulling you even closer.
"again," he growled against you. "let me feel it baby..”
and when you came, shuddering violently against his mouth with a choked cry, he didn't stop.
he just moaned like it was him being rewarded.
the vibrations sent another shockwave through your oversensitive nerves, making your legs tremble.
finally, slowly, he pulled back, but only enough to press one soft kiss to your inner thigh.
then looked up at you, eyes glossy, swollen lips glistening with you..
"still not enough," he whispered, voice raw.
he rose in one fluid motion, closing the space between you again, your back to the tree, his body against yours.
you could feel him now. hard, thick, straining against his loincloth, pressed right where your body still pulsed from his mouth.
his lips found your neck, biting gently. "wanna be inside when you come again."
your breath hitched. "neteyam..."
"i know," he murmured, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. "too much? too fast?"
you shook your head desperately.
“no..”
he exhaled sharply through his nose, the closest thing to losing control you'd ever seen from him.
"good." his hand slid down to cup you possessively between your legs, one finger teasing at your entrance again.
he swiftly took off your top
your bare skin prickled as the cool night air caressed your chest.
he leaned in, lips skimming the shell of your ear. "you ever been with anyone else?"
your stomach fluttered nervously. "no..”
he smiled against your skin, satisfaction and relief pouring off him.
"good…" he whispered, his hand skimming up the front of your bare torso, creeping upwards towards your breasts.
"no one else got to touch you like this... did they? only me."
"only you…" you confirmed.
he groaned low, his mouth moving along your jaw, claiming more territory. "that’s right. you’re mine. only mine."
his hand found your thigh again. "put your leg around me."
you wrapped your leg around his hip, drawing him closer.
your heart stuttered as you felt just how hard your touch made him. neteyam inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your thigh.
"that's it," he murmured, voice rough. "hold onto me."
you obeyed, grasping onto his shoulders, holding him tight. your body hummed with anticipation.
he pulled you even closer, grinding his hips against yours almost involuntarily with a shaky exhale. you could feel just how much you had affected him.
"missed you…" he murmured between kisses, his lips trailing along your neck. "all these years, i… imagined this. over and over again."
"i did too..." you whispered back.
he kissed you, slow and deep, it made your chest ache. not just desire, something more.
when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours under the soft glow of pandoran night.
his hands moved to the ties of his loincloth and in one smooth motion, freed himself.
you gasped at the sight. thick, proud, already glistening at the tip.
he guided himself to your entrance slowly.. teasingly.. letting just the head slide in as his thumb found your clit again.
"look at me," he demanded softly.
you obeyed as you held his gaze.
with a low groan that vibrated through both of you, he pushed forward inch by inch.. filling you completely until there was no space left between you.
you cried out, part pain, part overwhelming fullness as he stretched you for the first time, your body clenching around his girth.
he froze instantly. "hey… hey, look at me," he murmured, voice thick with concern and restraint. his thumb brushed your cheek as he stayed buried deep inside you, motionless, letting you adjust.
tears pricked your eyes.
"you're okay," he whispered against your lips. "i’ve got you. just breathe… for me."
you nodded shakily and took a breath in and then another, feeling yourself slowly relax around him.
“that’s it," he praised softly, kissing away a tear that slipped free. "take all of me."
and when you rolled your hips slightly, a quiet signal, he exhaled like it was agony and began to move.
slow at first, one deep thrust that made stars burst behind your eyelids, then another just as deliberate.
each one sent waves of pleasure spiraling through you until the line between pain and ecstasy blurred.
"neteyam…" your voice called out
he kissed you hard as his rhythm picked up, one hand gripping your hip to pull you onto him deeper with each stroke, the other tangled in yours above your head.
"i’m here," he muttered against your skin. "feel me?" he said as he pushed his much bigger hand against the bulge, disappearing and reappearing in your stomach with each thrust.
"i feel you... all of you," you gasped, nails raking down his back as he rolled his hips harder.
each thrust drove a moan from your throat, deeper, fuller than before. he was so deep inside you it felt like he was touching your soul.
"yeah? you take me so damn well," he growled, shifting slightly, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every powerful stroke. "mine.. only mine.."
you sobbed out his name as the pressure built again, tighter this time, hotter.
"that’s it," he whispered against your neck, his lips on your pulse point. "come for me, baby. i want to feel you.” he pulled back, looking down at you both, watching his cock slip in and out of your cunt.
“look at us,” he rasped, voice thick with awe and hunger. “you’re taking every inch..”
his thrusts turned shallow, rhythmic, just enough to grind against your clit with each roll of his hips. you whimpered, back arching as the pleasure coiled tighter, unbearable now.
“neteyam.. i’m.. i’m..”
one hand slid between you, rubbing firm circles over your swollen bud. “come on my cock. let me feel it.”
and when you shattered, your body clamped down around him in pulsing waves. he groaned like it was salvation.
“yes.. yes.. that’s it..” he panted against your neck as you trembled through the release.
but he didn’t stop moving.
just kept thrusting, deeper now, as if your pleasure had only fueled his need.
"i’m not gonna last..” he groaned, his mouth finding yours again. "not gonna last..”
you could feel his control slipping, his rhythm turning erratic, his breath coming rougher now as he chased his own release.
“then don’t,” you whispered against his lips, nails digging into his back. “i want you to cum inside me.. want to feel it..”
his hips stuttered at your words, like you'd stripped the last of his restraint away.
"shit..” he choked out, burying his face in your neck as his body tensed. "you're gonna make me..”
with a deep, guttural groan, he thrusts into you hard, once, twice and then stilled completely.
you felt it, he came inside you, each wave shuddering through his body and into yours.
he collapsed against you slightly, forehead pressed to your shoulder, breathing ragged and raw.
for long moments, there was only the sound of the forest breathing around you and your hearts beating in sync.
finally, he lifted his head just enough to look at you, eyes soft now.
he cupped your face, thumb brushing your sweaty forehead. "you okay?" he whispered, still out of breath.
you managed a nod, too spent to form words just yet.
he huffed a small laugh, lips finding your temple.
he pulled out slowly, gently and immediately wrapped his arms around you as your legs finally gave way. his warmth didn't leave you, not even for a second, as he lowered himself to the soft moss beneath, pulling you on top of him with care.
he sat with your back pressed to his chest, legs cradling yours, tail curling snugly around your waist.
one hand smoothed damp strands of hair from your face, the other rested low on your stomach, possessive and tender all at once.
"you're incredible," he murmured into your ear, pressing a kiss just behind it.
you leaned into him completely.
his voice dropped lower. "i should've done this years ago."
༻༺
hiii! i hope you guys enjoy this one of neteyam! as always, reblogs, likes and comments are very helpful and i appreciate all of you guys who choose to support my work!
summary aonung has been courting you, but you’re a little oblivious to the fact.
Pairing aonung x Metkayina!reader
wc 7.2k
a/n hi guys, if I haven’t done your request by now I’m probably just really not able to write it. I get writers block so bad. But feel free to send in different ones! I love your ideas and inspiration
The sky had deepened into a bruised plum color, the vast expanse above bleeding from the burning orange of an eclipse sunset into the cool, velvety indigo of true night. Around your thighs, the bioluminescence of the shore was beginning to wake up, greeting the darkness in tiny, flickering pulses of neon blue beneath the surface. The tide was low, revealing the skeleton of the reef—a labyrinth of coral and sandbars that usually lay hidden beneath the turquoise waves.
You shifted the weight of your woven basket, resting it firmly against the curve of your hip as you waded through the knee-deep water. The woven palm fronds dug slightly into your skin, damp and rough, but the weight was satisfying. It was a physical promise of the hours of creation ahead; a heavy basket meant a busy night at the loom, crushing shells for pigment and threading beads for the clan’s ceremonial sashes.
A few yards away, the soft splashing of water broke the rhythmic lapping of the tide. Lo’ak and Tsireya were lost in their own world, a bubble of laughter and shy touches that seemed impenetrable to the outside world. Lo’ak was submerged to his waist, his tail splashing playfully behind him as he ducked down, his movements unrefined but enthusiastic, to scoop up a handful of polished stones.
"For you," he mumbled, his ears flushing a dark violet as he offered them to her.
Tsireya giggled, the sound like the wind chimes her mother once strung around awa’atlu, and their heads leaned close together as he showed her his finds. It was a common sight now; since they’d started courting, Lo’ak had become a permanent fixture at Tsireya’s side. By extension, Aonung had stopped trying to drown him, or at the very least, had ceased his active antagonism. In fact, they moved with a comfortable, brotherly ease now—a mix of teasing and begrudging respect that made the evenings in Awa’atlu feel peaceful.
"Found another one!" you chirped, spotting a flash of cream-colored calcium beneath a sharp ledge of brain coral.
You bent over, your focus narrowing on the prize. It was distinct against the darker sand, a spiral of pure white that would grind down into a perfect, snowy paste for dye. As you leaned down, the water rippling around your waist, your thick curls tumbled forward. Gravity pulled the heavy, damp ringlets over your shoulders, obscuring your vision and sticking to your cheeks.
With a practiced, absent-minded flick of your wrist, you tossed the damp mass back over your shoulder. The beads braided into your hair—tiny pieces of shell and wood—clacked softly against one another, a musical accompaniment to your labor.
You didn't notice Aonung standing just a few feet away, his movements going perfectly still.
He had been pacing the perimeter of the sandbar, ostensibly keeping watch for akula or merely patrolling his territory, but in truth, he had been circling you. Now, he froze. He was watching the way the seawater droplets clung to your skin, shimmering like liquid crystals against your patterned teal skin. He watched the concentrated line of your brow, the tip of your tongue just barely poking out between your teeth in focus, and the way your eyes—wide and bright with genuine wonder—lit up as you pulled the small, fluted shell from the sand.
To the rest of the clan, you were a diligent worker, a kind soul. To him, in this quiet moment between day and night, you looked perfectly in your element—a pretty girl collecting pretty things, entirely unaware of how the starlight caught the curve of your collarbone.
Your head turned toward the figure looming a little ways away. Your eyes unexpectedly landed on Aonung, and a confused expression took over your features. He usually spent this time of day sharpening his spear or boasting with his friends by the fire. You wondered what he was doing here, standing so silently in the shallows, but deciding not to press, you simply waved at him.
Your inviting demeanor was one of his favorite things about you, though he would sooner die than admit it out loud. You never let anyone in the clan feel left out or less than. You were loyal to your people, a healer of spirits if not of bodies, always trying your hardest to make sure everyone was doing well.
"Look at the ridges on this, Aonung," you said, breaking the silence as you lifted the shell up toward him.
You took a step closer, water swirling around your thighs. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with that infectious excitement you only got when you found a new treasure for your art. "The symmetry is perfect. Eywa really was showing off when she made this one."
Aonung stared at the shell, forcing his eyes to focus on the calcium spiral rather than the water dripping from your curls, and gliding over your ceremonial tattoo. Then, against his will, his gaze drifted up to your face. He felt that familiar tight pull in his chest—a mixture of suffocating pride and a desperate, surging need to be the reason that look stayed on your face. He wanted to be the source of that wonder, not a dead piece of calcium.
"It is... adequate," he managed to say, his voice a bit deeper than usual, rough like gravel rolling in the surf.
He felt foolish the moment the words left his lips. Adequate? It was a beautiful find. But his defenses were high, a wall built of teenage bravado and the terrifying vulnerability of a first love. He didn't wait for you to respond. He turned abruptly and effortlessly dove, his powerful tail kicking up a spray of glowing foam that misted the air between you.
You simply hummed with a small tilt of your head, unbothered by his stoicism. You dropped the shell into your basket, the clack of it joining the others, and watched his figure disappear into the darkening water.
Unbeknownst to you, underneath the surface, Aonung was on a mission.
The water was cooler here, silent save for the rush of the current. His bioluminescent spots glowed brightly in the dim depths, marking his path like a constellation. He swam past the easy finds—the common cowries and the drift-wood that Lo’ak was content finding in the shallows for his little sister. That was child's play. That was easy.
Aonung wanted the deeper parts of the reef. He wanted the places where the current was often unpredictable, where the pressure built against his ears, but where the rewards were unparalleled. He kicked harder, propelling himself toward a jagged drop-off where the coral grew thick and ancient. He scanned the crevices, his eyes adjusting to the gloom, hunting. He needed something that spoke of effort. Something that said, I went where others could not, just for you.
When he surfaced minutes later, he didn't just walk over and drop his finds into your basket. He waited. He treaded water, watching you scan the shoreline, waiting until you were standing still with that contemplative look on your face. He watched the way you bit your lower lip as you decided where to step next, your tail swaying in the water behind you for balance.
Only then did he move. He walked right into your space, dripping wet, the rising heat of his body radiating through the cool evening air. He stopped mere inches from you, close enough that you had to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eye.
"The shallows only give you what the ocean is tired of holding," he said softly, his voice low and intimate.
He reached out, his large hand hovering over your basket. He placed a cluster of small shells onto the pile of your woven treasures. They were heavy, distinct—a deep, blood-red color, their surfaces smooth as glass but thick and sturdy. They looked like they could withstand a storm, or a thousand years of tides.
You gasped, your fingers immediately abandoning your own basket rim to ghost over them.
"Aonung... these are beautiful," you whispered, the breath leaving your lungs. You looked up at him through your lashes, eyes wide. "The color... I’ve never seen this shade before. I can use the pigment from the broken ones to dye my thread the color of the eclipse sun. How did you find so many?"
You smiled, your ears swiveling back in delight as you felt your heart thump at the gesture. The realization hit you suddenly—he was so close. His broad frame towered over you, blocking out the view of the distant village fires, encompassing your entire world in that moment. You could practically trace every line of his tattoo that streamed from where his brow met his nose, to the right side of his face.
Aonung felt a swell of triumph so potent it nearly made him dizzy. He noticed the way you looked at the shells—with reverence and joy—and he silently vowed to empty the entire ocean floor, to fight an akula with his bare hands, if it meant you’d keep looking at him with those wide, appreciative eyes.
"I know where the hidden pockets are," he said, clearing his throat and trying to sound nonchalant.
He crossed his arms over his chest, though his own heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. A smirk grew on his lips, that familiar teasing glint appearing in his eyes as he narrowed them. He did a dramatic look away toward the other couple, shrugging his shoulders. "Lo’ak and Tsireya are happy with the scraps. I thought you might want something... more."
You gasped, your ears swiveling back, and you slapped his bicep playfully. The muscle under your hand was hard as rock, and wet skin slick against your palm. A small giggle of shock fell past your lips.
"Do not be mean, Aonung," you chided, though there was no heat in it. "But... thank you. Thank you for being so helpful today."
You gave him a bright, blinding smile, one that crinkled the corners of your eyes, before happily going back to your searching. You adjusted the basket, treating his contribution like gold, and bent down again to inspect the sand closely.
Predictably, your curls fell forward again.
Aonung stood rooted to the spot. Once more, you huffed softly and flipped them back with that graceful, unconscious toss of your head. Aonung watched the movement, his hands twitching at his sides. His fingers curled into fists. He wanted so badly to reach out. He wanted to be the one to tuck those wayward curls behind your ear. He wanted to be the one to carry the basket that was clearly getting too heavy to rest on your hip. He wanted to do everything for you, and the intensity of the desire was terrifying.
"Hey! Y/N! Aonung! Check this out!"
The shout broke the spell. Lo’ak was waving his arms frantically from a tidal pool a twenty meters away. He was holding up a bright orange sea star, visibly dry— either a shed or it simply died before it could make it back to the water. "It’s huge!"
Aonung looked at Lo’ak, his jaw tightening. Then he looked back at you.
He saw you laugh at Lo’ak’s find, your attention shifting entirely to the forest boy. "That’s amazing, Lo’ak! It will make a great center for a chest piece!" you called, your voice light and affectionate.
A sudden, sharp spark of jealousy—not of Lo’ak as a rival, but of the attention you were giving the sea star—flared in Aonung’s chest. It burned hot and fast. A starfish? Anyone could find a starfish. A starfish was nothing.
He didn't say a word. He didn't acknowledge Lo'ak's shout. He just turned and dove again, slashing into the water with more force than necessary. He went deeper this time, past the red shells, past the coral ridge. He was determined to find something so magnificent, so rare, that you wouldn't be able to look at Lo'ak, or the stars, or anything else for the rest of the night.
You laughed softly at his sudden departure, shaking your head. "He is so competitive," you murmured to yourself, amused by his antics. To you, it was just boys being boys, trying to outdo one another in speed and skill.
As the time passed, the moon rose higher, casting a silver sheen over the water. Your basket grew heavier, forcing you to switch hips frequently. You shifted the weight of Aonung's growing pile of treasures—he had returned three more times, each time with something more impressive: a piece of obsidian glass, a pearl still inside the oyster, and a branch of coral that looked like frozen lightning.
Finally, Tsireya waded over to you, Lo'ak trailing behind her like a happy puppy.
"Your brother is in such a good mood today, isn't he?" you said, wiping the sand from your hands as you turned to Tsireya. You gestured to the waterline where Aonung was currently surfacing, holding something that glowed faintly purple in his hands. "It's so nice of him to help me collect materials. Usually, he says weaving is boring work."
Tsireya froze. She looked at the rare, aesthetic hoard in your basket—materials that would have taken days to find in the shallows. She looked at the blood-red shells that required a dangerous dive into the trench.
Then, she looked out at the water. She saw her brother, the future Olo'eyktan, usually so proud and aloof, practically vibrating with the hope that you would like his latest offering. He was looking at you with an expression so open, so full of longing, that it was almost painful to witness.
Finally, she looked back at your sweet, oblivious face. You were smiling, genuinely believing Aonung was just being a dutiful clan member.
Tsireya let out a long, slow sigh, shaking her head.
"Yes, Ma tsmuke," Tsireya murmured, a pitying smile on her lips as she patted your arm. "Extremely... 'nice.'"
The following week dissolved into a blur of turquoise water and sun-bleached moments, defined less by your daily chores and more by the sudden, omnipresent gravity of the chief’s son. It was as if he had developed a sixth sense for your whereabouts, appearing whenever you were just starting to feel relaxed.
He appeared at random, unpredictable hours, disrupting the rhythm of your day with the chaotic energy of a storm tide. If you were mending nets by the docks, his shadow would suddenly fall over your work, his hands "accidentally" brushing yours as he offered to help with a knot you perfectly understood how to tie. If you were having a quiet meal, he would drift by, dropping a fresh fruit onto your woven mat without a word, only a smirk that lingered long after he had walked away.
But it was the afternoons beneath the water that became his favorite hunting ground.
You were deep underwater, the sunlight filtering down in shimmering "god-rays" that danced across the sandy floor, riding ilus with the Sully children and Tsireya. Down here, the world was silent save for the muffled clicks of the sea life and the rhythmic beat of your own heart.
You were all gliding through a forest of giant sea fans, the Sullys struggling a bit with their breathing rhythms while Tsireya moved with the effortless grace of a creature born of the current. You were focused on your own mount, adjusting your grip on the neural bond, when a large, dark shadow swept over you.
Aonung appeared right beside you, his ilu banking sharply to match your speed. In the turquoise gloom, his bioluminescent dots glowed like a map of the stars. He caught your eye and flashed a wide, shit-eating grin that sent a jolt through your chest. He didn't say a word—he didn't have to. He simply raised a hand, signing one sharp, challenging word:
“Race?”
You didn't even wait to signal the others. You leaned flat against the ilu’s neck, and the two of you went full throttle.
The pressure of the water increased as you accelerated, the reef becoming a blur of neon streaks. You pushed through the resistance, your tail acting as a secondary rudder, feeling the raw power of the ocean rushing past your skin. You and Aonung were neck-and-neck, weaving through coral arches and tight rock formations, completely dusting your friends. By the time you looped around the massive sea-wall and tore back toward the shore, the rest of the group was nothing but distant, tiny specks in the blue.
As the water turned from deep indigo to the pale, sun-drenched teal of the shallows, you both breached the surface simultaneously.
You gasped for air, the transition from the silent depths to the crashing sound of the waves making your head spin for a moment. Aonung popped up just inches away. He was desperately trying to play it cool, smoothing his hair back with both hands, but he couldn't hide the heavy, ragged heave of his chest. The race had pushed him just as hard as it had pushed you.
In the heat of the moment, your eyes betrayed you.
Instead of looking at the horizon or checking on the others, your gaze drifted. It started at his soaked hair, which was plastered to his forehead, then traced the dark, intricate tattoos that marked his face as a future leader. Your eyes lingered on his broadening shoulders and the powerful swell of his chest, following the lines of his body down to his core. His abs were defined and tense from the exertion, partially obscured by a beautifully woven chest piece that slung around his shoulders—a piece you knew he’d spent time choosing.
Aonung went still. He caught you staring, the exhaustion in his eyes instantly replaced by a predatory, playful spark. His ears flickered once, twice, and then that arrogant, knowing grin returned.
“My eyes are up here, ma txe’lan,” he teased.
His voice was a low, honeyed rumble that cut through the sound of the surf. You felt the blood rush to your face instantly, your ears flattening in pure mortification as your eyes shot back up to meet his. He watched your panic with absolute delight, his smile growing wider as he realized exactly how much of an effect he was having on you.
You quickly regained your composure, holding your head high as you huffed at him, trying to summon every ounce of dignity you had left while your face still burned a vivid shade of violet.
“I was simply observing the weaving!” you shot back, splashing a handful of water toward him to distract from your blush. “I helped make that piece, y’know? I was checking to see if you’d managed to fray the edges already with your... recklessness.”
Aonung didn’t flinch at the water; he leaned into it, his grin only sharpening. He looked down at the woven leather and shell-work crossing his chest, then back at you, his eyes hooded and dark with mischief.
"Ah, so it was a professional inspection then?" he asked, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. He began to paddle his ilu closer, the creature’s wet skin squeaking against yours as he closed the gap. "Tell me, weaver, did the 'work' meet your standards? Or do you need to get closer to check the... structural integrity?"
He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, a stark contrast to the cool ocean mist clinging to your shoulders. The playful arrogance in his posture was infuriating, mostly because it was working.
"The work is fine," you managed to say, though your voice lacked its usual bite. "The wearer, however, is being a nuisance."
"A nuisance?" Aonung laughed, the sound deep and genuine. He reached up, his large hand lingering near the strap of the chest piece, right over the fastening thrum of his heart. "And here I thought I was being helpful, giving you a chance to admire your handiwork in action. Most artists would be grateful for such a... fine canvas."
He flexed his shoulder slightly, making the shells on the strap clack together—the very shells he had dived into the deep reef to find for you just a week prior. It was a silent reminder of the effort he was putting in, a hidden thread of vulnerability beneath his teasing— and unbeknownst to you, he’d chosen that piece because he recognized your work.
Before you could think of a witty retort, the sound of chattering ilus and splashing water announced the arrival of the others.
"Finally!" Lo’ak’s voice boomed as he surfaced a few yards away, his expression a mix of annoyance and awe. "What was that? You guys took off like you had an akula on your tails!"
Tsireya pulled up beside him, her eyes darting between your flushed face and Aonung’s smug expression. She didn't miss the way her brother was lingering in your personal space, or the way your tail was twitching nervously beneath the surface. A knowing, slightly weary smile touched her lips.
"Aonung, stop pestering her," Tsireya chided gently, though there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "She came out here to enjoy the water, not to be run ragged by your ego."
"I was merely testing her speed, sister," Aonung said, finally pulling his mount back a few inches, though he kept his gaze locked on yours. "And it seems she is almost as fast as I am. Almost."
He winked at you—a quick, daring movement that felt like a secret shared in front of everyone—before turning his ilu to join the group.
The afternoon that followed was shared between the both of you.
The sun, a bloated orb of fire, dipped toward the horizon, bleeding amber and gold into the turquoise waters of the reef. In the weavers' pavilion, the air was thick with the scent of dried sea grass, crushed minerals, and the faint, sweet aroma of the incense the elders burned to honor the Great Mother.
You sat nestled in your usual spot, your legs tucked beneath you. This was your sanctuary. While the others were out hunting or practicing with their spears, you found a different kind of power in the loom. There was a rhythm to it—a heartbeat in the clack-clack of the wood and the sliding of the shuttle.
You were surrounded by the elders of the clan, women whose hands were stained with dye and whose skin was etched with the deep, storied lines of many seasons. You loved their company; they didn't care about the petty dramas of the teenagers or the posturing of the hunters. They spoke of the ancestors, of the flow of Eywa, and today, they were particularly interested in your recent progress.
"Your thread is becoming stronger, little one," Ti’miria, the eldest among them, remarked as she peered over her spectacles made of polished translucent shell. "And your eye for color is improving."
You beamed, dipping a bundle of fibers into a bowl of fixative. "Thank you, Ti’miria. I’ve been trying a new technique for the binding." you watched a her eyes wandered to your material basket.
"You have been blessed by the tides, little one," Saeyla remarked, her voice like crinkling parchment. She gestured with a gnarled, dye-stained finger toward the cluster of deep, blood-red shells resting atop your fibers. "Those are not found by mere luck. They cling to the undersides of the jagged rocks where the currents are strong enough to rip a weak swimmer from the reef."
You flushed, reaching down to pick one up. It felt heavy and cool, its surface polished by the violence of the ocean. "I didn't find them," you said, your voice softening. "Aonung went to get them for me. He said the shallows were only for things the ocean was tired of holding."
A hush fell over the circle. It wasn't a cold silence, but one pregnant with meaning. Ti’miria exchanged a look with the woman beside her—a look that held the weight of a thousand seasons. They knew the pride of the Olo'eyktan’s son; they knew he didn't risk his life for "weaving supplies" unless his heart was already caught in the thread.
"Is that so?" She whispered, a secretive, knowing smile stretching her lips. "How very... helpful of him."
Before you could defend his honor or insist it was just a display of his typical arrogance, a shadow lengthened across the pavilion floor. The heavy, rhythmic footfalls were unmistakable.
Aonung strode in, looking entirely too large and too vibrantly alive for the quiet space. He wasn't carrying a spear or a net. Instead, he held a small, sturdy basket of his own. Without a word of greeting to the elders—though he gave them a respectful dip of his head—he dropped onto the mat directly beside you.
"Aonung!" you hissed, your eyes wide as you leaned toward him. "What are you doing here? This is a quiet space."
He didn't look at you. Instead, he began pulling out strips of dark, cured leather and a handful of small, iridescent shells that shimmered like oil on water. "My father says a leader must know the craft of his people," he grumbled, though his ears were twitching in a way that suggested he was lying through his teeth. "I have... things to make. I am joining you."
You stared at his basket. It wasn't filled with broken gear to mend. It was filled with beautiful, hand-picked treasures—small, delicate white shells, obsidian beads, and a strange, glowing blue seaglass.
"Since when do you weave, Aonung?" you whispered, your voice hushed so the elders wouldn't hear your teasing.
"Since I decided I wanted to," he snapped back, though there was no heat in it. He fumbled with the leather strips, his large, calloused fingers looking comically oversized as he tried to start a basic four-strand braid.
You watched him for a moment, your heart doing a strange little skip. He was being so deliberate, his brow furrowed in that same intense concentration you had seen when he was hunting. You assumed he was making a new grip for his knife or perhaps a decorative band for his ilu. You had no idea that every shell in his basket had been chosen because it reminded him of the way the light caught your eyes, or that the length of the kelp leather he was braiding was exactly the circumference of your neck.
The hour stretched on. The elders eventually stopped staring and went back to their own work, their low hum of gossip returning like the evening tide.
Aonung was struggling. A low, frustrated growl vibrated in his chest as the leather strips slipped from his grip for the third time.
"You're pulling much too hard," you murmured, reaching over without thinking.
Your fingers brushed his, and he went perfectly still. The heat of his skin was startling against yours. You gently took the leather from his hands, showing him how to keep the tension even. "If you pull too hard on the left, the whole braid will twist. You have to be patient, Aonung. You have to follow to the material."
You guided his hands with yours, your smaller fingers resting over his knuckles. For a moment, the world narrowed down to the sensation of his skin, the smell of salt and sun that followed him everywhere, and the rhythmic sound of his breathing.
He didn't look at the braid. He was looking at you. His gaze was heavy, focused on the way your hair fell over your shoulder, on the small patch of bioluminescence near your collarbone where this necklace would soon rest, on the way your lips moved as you explained the craft.
"Like this?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that made your stomach flip.
"Yes," you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. "Exactly like that."
You spent the rest of the evening in a state of quiet bliss. You discovered that Aonung was actually quite funny when he wasn't trying to be the toughest warrior in the village. He told you about the time he tried to ride a skimwing before he was ready and ended up face-first in a patch of stinging coral. He told you about the hidden caves behind the northern cliffs where the water turned a color so bright it looked like the sky.
And all the while, he worked. He meticulously wove the shells into the leather, his movements becoming more fluid under your guidance. He was creating a necklace—a piece of jewelry so intricate and beautiful it would have taken an expert weeks—but he was doing it in a single night, fueled by a desperate, silent need to give you something of his own making.
By the time the moon was high and the fireflies of the reef began their nightly dance, you were both finished. The pavilion was empty, the elders having slipped away long ago with knowing smiles.
"I should get back," you said, feeling a sudden, shy heaviness in your limbs. "My family will be wondering where I am."
"I will walk you," he said. It wasn't a suggestion.
He picked up your heavy basket, slinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, while he tucked his own finished work into a hidden pouch at his waist.
The walk to your marui was slow. The village was quiet, the only sound the soft slap-slapof the water against the pilings and the distant call of a night-bird. Aonung walked close to you—so close your shoulders occasionally brushed.
When you reached the entrance to your home, he handed you your basket. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, softening the arrogance into something much more vulnerable.
"I enjoyed the weaving," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Even if the elders are nosy."
You let out a soft giggle, your tail swaying behind you. "They just like to see you doing something that doesn't involve throwing a spear, Aonung."
You looked up at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. You wanted to say more. You wanted to ask him why he had really come, why he had looked at you like that over the leather strips, but the words felt too big for your throat.
"Thank you for walking me," you said instead, giving him a shy, radiant smile. "And for the help today."
"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered.
You turned to go inside, your mind racing, but just as you reached the curtain, you looked back. He was still standing there, a dark silhouette against the silver water, watching you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. You waved a small, hesitant hand, and he nodded once before turning to melt into the shadows of the village.
As you stepped inside your marui and set your basket down, you felt a strange sense of completion. You didn't know yet that tomorrow, he would find you by the shore and press a cold, woven necklace into your hand—a gift of blue teardrop pearls, starlight and the talon of a reef bird to match his own, woven by the hands of a warrior who had finally found something worth holding onto more than his pride.
The golden hour in Awa’atlu was more than just a time of day; it was a transformation of the world. The Great Mother seemed to hold her breath as the sun, a bloated and magnificent orb of molten fire, dipped toward the horizon. It bled a palette of impossible colors—burning amber, bruised plum, and a liquid gold that turned the surface of the ocean into a shimmering mirror of fire.
The air was heavy and warm, carrying the sweet, intoxicating scent of the night-blooming flora from the shoreline and the sharp, clean tang of salt spray. It was the kind of evening that felt permanent, as if the universe had paused just to witness the transition from the frantic energy of the day to the bioluminescent peace of the night.
You were wading in the waist-deep water near the village docks, the cool, rhythmic lap of the tide a soothing balm against your skin. Today, you had finally unraveled your hair from its tight, intricate ceremonial braids. Without the weight of the beads and the structure of the weave, your hair felt immense—a thick, wild sea of curls that cascaded over your shoulders and floated atop the water like dark, silken kelp. You felt free, untethered, and entirely at peace.
Beside you, Tsireya was a picture of effortless grace. She was humming a soft, melodic tune—a song the Metkayina used to call the spirit of the water—as she moved through the shallows. In her hands, she held a woven basket of small, silvery fish. With practiced ease, she tossed them one by one to a group of young ilus that had gathered around you both.
The creatures were in a playful mood, their chattering clicks and whistles vibrating through the water. One particularly bold calf nudged its snout against your hip, nearly knocking you off balance. You laughed, the sound bright and clear in the evening air, as you reached down to stroke its smooth, rubbery skin.
"They are hungry tonight," you remarked, your fingers tracing the glowing patterns on the ilu's flank. "And very demanding."
Tsireya smiled, her eyes crinkling with warmth. "They know who has the best spirit, ma tsmuke. They can feel that you are at rest today."
But as the words left her lips, her gaze drifted past you, toward the pale curve of the shoreline. Her expression shifted—a mischievous, knowing glint entering her eyes that made your heart do a sudden, unprompted hop. "It seems we are not the only ones drawn to the water tonight," she murmured, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone.
You followed her gaze, squinting against the blinding gold of the setting sun. There, standing at the edge of the tide where the sand met the surf, was Aonung.
He looked different than he had in the weavers' pavilion or during the frantic races on the reef. Gone was the loud-mouthed warrior, replaced by someone who looked uncharacteristically hesitant. He was standing perfectly still, his hands tucked behind his back, his tail giving a sharp, rhythmic flick that betrayed his internal nerves. He was watching you—not with his usual smirk, but with an intensity that felt heavy, even from a distance.
He seemed to be contemplating his next move, caught in a moment of rare indecision. From where you stood, you couldn't see the sweat on his palms or the way his heart was hammering against his ribs, but you could see the way he looked at you. To Aonung, you were the center of the world. The golden light caught the curve of your neck, the wild tumble of your hair, and the way your woven top rested perfectly against your skin. You were a vision of everything he had been working toward for weeks.
Tsireya, never one to let her brother suffer in silence, cupped her hands around her mouth. "Aonung! Are you waiting for the tide to go out, or are you going to join us?"
The shout broke his trance. You saw him jump slightly, his ears pinning back in a flash of visible panic. He looked around as if hoping a rogue akula might appear to give him an excuse to leave, but when he realized he was trapped, he squared his shoulders. With a deep breath that expanded his broad chest, he began to wade out into the water.
His movements were slow, deliberate. As he drew closer, the water rippling around his strong legs, the playful chattering of the ilus seemed to fade into the background. There was a gravity to his approach that made the air feel thick.
"Tsireya," he said stiffly as he reached the two of you, offering his sister a curt nod. Then, his eyes locked onto yours, and the rest of the world simply ceased to exist for him. "Y/N."
Tsireya didn't miss the way his gaze lingered on your hair, or the way your own tail was twitching beneath the surface. She let out a soft, knowing giggle. "I believe the ilus by the marui’s are feeling neglected," she announced, already turning to swim away. "Do not be a bore, Aonung. Try to use your words."
She disappeared into the golden glare, leaving the two of you in a pocket of profound, charged silence. The water swirled between you, the rising heat of his body radiating through the cooling evening air.
"You look..." Aonung started, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, deepening it to regain his composure. "Your hair. It is different."
"I took the braids out," you said, feeling a sudden, shy heat rise in your cheeks. You reached up to brush a damp curl from your face. "Do you like it?"
"I... yes. very much," he breathed, his eyes traveling over every feature of your face.
The moment felt fragile, like a piece of spun glass. Aonung took a half-step closer, his large frame towering over you, blocking out the sun and surrounding you in his shadow. He reached into the small pouch at his waist, his movements slow and reverent.
"I have been thinking," he began, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated in your chest. "I have been courting you for a while now. It has been... a process. But I think I am finally ready to present you with this."
He held out his hand. Lying across his broad, calloused palm was the necklace he had labored over in the pavilion.
In the dying light of the sun, it was breathtaking. The green woven kelp-leather was vibrant and rich, a testament to the patience you had taught him. At the center hung the reef bird talon, polished until it gleamed like a piece of dark glass, a perfect mirror to the one he wore himself. But it was the additions that made your breath catch—trailing along the weave were small, blue teardrop pearls. They were the exact shade of the pearls you wore in your hair, shimmering with an iridescent light that spoke of the deep ocean.
"Aonung," you whispered, your fingers ghosting over the talon. "It’s beautiful. It’s perfect."
"I wanted it to be right," he said, his ears perking up at your praise. "I wanted it to match you. To show that I see you."
You were staring at the intricate knots, moved beyond words, but then his earlier phrasing finally clicked in your mind. You looked up at him, your brow furrowing in genuine, sweet confusion. "Wait... what did you just say?"
Aonung blinked, his confident posture wavering. "I said I wanted it to match you?"
"No, before that," you said, your head tilting to the side. "The part about... courting?"
Aonung’s ears did a slow, dramatic droop. His mouth fell open, and for a moment, he looked entirely lost. "Yes. Courting. The gifts? The rare shells from the trench? The racing every afternoon? The fact that I have sat through three weaver's circles just to be near you?"
You blinked back at him, your mind racing through the memories of the past weeks. To you, it had been a series of fun, increasingly close moments with a friend who was finally softening. "I thought you were just... being helpful? I thought we were becoming very, very good friends, Aonung."
Aonung looked like he wanted to throw himself into the surf. He groaned, a long, dramatic sound of exasperation, and threw his hands up in the air. "Very good friends? Y/N, that was courting. My presence at your side every waking hour for the past fourteen sun-cycles just to be very good friends?"
He paced a small, frustrated circle in the waist-deep water, his tail splashing the surface. "Did you think I was doing that for Lo'ak? You truly didn't know? After everything?"
The heat in your face was now a full, violet flush. Looking back at the intensity in his eyes, the way he always stood a little too close, the way he had essentially become your shadow—it was so blindingly obvious that you felt like a fool.
"Well... now that I think about it," you murmured, a sheepish, radiant smile spreading across your lips. "I guess it was a bit more than 'friendly' behavior."
Aonung stopped his pacing and looked at you, his frustration melting into a look of pure, helpless affection. ""I am courting a girl who is as blind as a cave-fish," he muttered to himself, though the corner of his mouth was twitching.
"I'm sorry!" you giggled, stepping into his space until your chests were nearly touching. "But I accept. The gift... and the suitor."
Aonung’s breath hitched. "I see you, Y/N"
"I see you, Aonung"
You took the necklace from his hand, the weight of it a physical promise. You moved closer, stepping up onto your tippy-toes in the swirling water to reach him. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. Aonung didn't hesitate this time; his large arms surged around you, pulling you flush against his warm, damp skin. He held you with a strength that made you feel entirely safe, his heart hammering a frantic, joyous rhythm against your own.
In the distance, Tsireya watched from the sully Marui with lo’ak, her heart full as she saw the two of you silhouetted against the last sliver of the sun. It was done.
You pulled back just enough to look at him. "Will you help me put it on?"
Aonung’s hands were trembling as he took the leather cord. You turned around, lifting the heavy, curly mass of your hair to expose the nape of your neck. You felt the cool touch of the pearls against your skin, and then the feather-light, reverent brush of his fingers as he secured the clasp.
When you turned back to face him, the necklace sat perfectly against your collarbone, the blue pearls glowing in the twilight. Aonung reached out, his thumb grazing your jawline, his gaze darkening with a sudden, heavy intensity.
"Y/N," he breathed, his hand sliding into the curls at the back of your head to pull you closer.
You didn't wait for him to ask. You leaned in, closing the distance, and then his lips were on yours.
The kiss was everything the last few weeks had been—intense, sweet, and deep like the ocean. It tasted of salt and the warmth of the sun. Aonung groaned low in his throat, his other hand splaying across your back to hold you as if he’d never let go. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, the world around you dissolving into nothing but the feel of him and the pulse of the tide.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead stayed against yours. He was breathless, a triumphant, vulnerable smile on his face. "Now," he whispered. "Do you still think we are just 'very good friends'?"
You laughed, pulling him back down for another kiss. "No, maybe best friends."
after jake suggests that neteyam should start to court a mate, he only has one person on his mind. and yet, all you can think of is how this marks the end of your friendship with neteyam.
content + warnings: [wc: 4.8k] friends to lovers, pining, angst, friendship breakup, everyone is of age, post AFAA, miscommunication (no communication at all, really), mild AFAA spoilers (if you squint), everyone lives, eventual smut (but not in this chapter), slowburn (considering the word count), lowercase intentional
chapters: one 𓇼 two 𓇼 three
Translations:
uturu: sanctuary
pa'li: direhorse
iknimaya: rite of passage
syuratan: bioluminescence
ean menari: blue eyes
tsmuke: sister
tsmukesyip: little sister
marui: pods (homes)
tewng: loincloth
tanhi: bioluminescent freckles
yawne: beloved
you had never felt peace like this before. the kind that filled your lungs when you inhaled and settled your mind as you exhaled. it made everything feel effortless. it made you feel serene.
the water was a stunning vision of waves, calmer than most days and refreshing in the recent climate. but it could have been boiling and you wouldn't have flinched. not when you were in his company.
"i loved that river, but i always wanted to see where it led," neteyam's voice was low among the gentle splashes of water as he spoke, "what else existed if i followed it? something better? or was it more of the same."
you shifted on the back of se'lei, the tulkun you called your sister, awaiting his story. your voice wavered with poorly hidden excitement when you replied, "and did you follow it?"
a small smile danced on his lips, an ear twitching, "i did."
when neteyam and his family arrived at your village seven years ago seeking uturu, at first, you only watched them from afar. there was no point in befriending outsiders that would leave as soon as their need for uturu passed. that avoidance only lasted a month because your best friend, tsireya, begged you to help her teach them to assimilate. she also couldn't stop talking about toruk makto's youngest son. it meant that you naturally grew closer with his eldest one.
it wasn't just that you and neteyam were alike in age. you were alike in spirit, too.
he was a warrior in his heart and in yours, you were an adventurer. someone who sought to find a new story wherever you could.
your fingers absently braided a piece of your water soaked hair, trying to will yourself some restraint when he didn't immediately continue his story. over the years, you sensed that he found your impatience entertaining. though you had learned to control your zealousness around him, today wasn't one of those days.
you turned on your side to get a better look at him but he was not looking at you. he was clearly relaxed with his arms folded behind his head, a leg bent and tail leisurely swaying beside him. he watched the sky for the eclipse that would soon take place.
you huffed but still didn't say anything. he was intent on taking his time.
that was fine. soon, he would tell you about where the river led. about which animals he encountered and what clans he met.
when he finally decided to speak, of course.
so you let the minutes pass. one and then another. but when one more passed and he still didn't continue, you rolled on your stomach and let your tail slap his chest. he chuckled but made no effort to move your tail away. instead, he closed his eyes with a lazy smile.
"neteyam!" you cried, "just tell me! what happened?" your voice came out piqued, like a child waiting for the conclusion to the story. but you were no child, you only had the patience of one.
he finally opened his eyes only to find yours rapt on his. a playful gleam reflected in the amber before setting his sights back to the nearing eclipse. "it was a day's journey because i had to go on pa'li — i had not completed iknimaya yet so i had no ikran," his tail swept against his leg, "the river turned into a waterfall, too tall to jump. beyond it, the river continued but i could not."
"so you never found its true end?" you asked, your tone laced with disappointment .
you rolled to your back again. side by side, the two of you watched the eclipse settle and the syuratan illuminate the world around you.
a shiver sparked through your spine when his tail brushed against your thigh. it was delicate but you knew better than to assume it was accidental. instead, you returned your fingers to the small braid you were making rather than acknowledging it.
another thing on a long list of things you refused to acknowledge.
it wasn't like you were oblivious and you certainly weren't naive. it's just that when it came to neteyam, you chose to dismiss the subtle ways his tail touched yours when you walked together or how his eyes always seemed to find yours when you were with your friends. you hoped that maybe if you ignored it, he would get it.
but of course, you were alike in spirit which meant that he had a similar list of things he refused to acknowledge, too.
after all, your behavior didn't change how you always accepted his company when he offered, or how he let you drag him out past the reef to hunt, or how the best stories you had involved him.
maybe it would happen gradually, maybe all at once. either way, you knew what giving in to his affections meant and you couldn't let it happen. you valued your friendship far too much to allow it to change.
neteyam still hadn't answered your question.
it seemed his mission tonight was to annoy you because he only gave you a small shrug before he stood abruptly.
you watched him call out to the surrounding waters for an ilu.
"i shouldn't have waited so long to leave," he admitted, "i forgot that my dad mentioned something about a family meeting."
he climbed down to se'lei's front flipper, extending his hand out to help you.
your hand curled around his even though you didn't need it. another thing you wouldn't acknowledge.
"then why are you still here?" you dropped his hand to wave him off, "go!"
but his skin was as warm as his eyes and the lingering heat in your belly was as hot as fire.
you caught the small shake of his head before he dove into the water. it was difficult not to stare as he mounted the ilu. the muscles in his thighs tensed while he straddled it, his torso flexing when he adjusted on top. his hand stroked the ilu's neck gently as he asked, "can i see you again tomorrow?"
you weren't staring — not really — but when he turned, you quickly averted your eyes anyway.
"why are you asking when you just show up either way?" you scoffed, "in fact," you lowered your body to sit against se'lei, "i should say no since you like to entice me and then leave me unsatisfied."
the beads in his braids clinked as they swayed with the small tilt of his head. his eyes never leaving yours, he smirked, "you do not know what you speak of, ean menari," he dragged his eyes down your face, letting them linger on your mouth, "i would never leave you unsatisfied."
that smirk was the last thing you saw before he disappeared into the water.
the surprised breath you sucked in burned your lungs long after he left. the fluttering in your stomach was relentless. and in the comforting privacy shared between you and your tulkun sister, you dared to smile at the thought of him.
se'lei's vibrations rippled the surrounding waters when you slid your body to lay on her flipper with your legs propping up next to her eyes.
a son like him is keenly aware of his father's orders. he did not forget, she said.
"yes he did, he is stupid like that." you signed to her.
no, tsmuke, you made him stupid.
you scoffed, "i did not make him stupid! he came like that!"
he forgot many curfews when you were younger as well.
"yes, because he is stupid."
but he never forgot about any meetings with you.
"sure he did—"
not once.
you frowned. she was right.
but you weren't able to dwell on it because then she lifted her flipper and bounced your body in the air.
"se'lei!" you yelped. shifting to sit upright, you laughed but it did not abate the wail you wanted to let out.
i was not trying to upset you.
"it isn't you, it is my fault," your signing was almost aggressive in what you were trying to convey, "i know what you're trying to tell me, i just do not want to speak it and make it real."
you stroked the smooth skin above her eye. she blinked with another vibrating rumble and said, it already is real, tsmukesyip, it only needs to be accepted.
blinking listlessly, you brought your legs to your chest. any warmth in the air was gone and all that was left was a chill that was too cold.
when it came to neteyam, you only saw two paths. accepting that there was something there meant submission. the independence you valued in your friendship would end to make room for the consequences of a mate. he would ask for the same sacrifice that lenetu, a boy who courted you before, once asked of you. like your mother, you would be urged to lean into the peace of the village. abandon the adventure.
and although it would allow you to live a life with neteyam, it was hardly a life you would be content in having.
the metkayina women were strong and fought bravely in the battles that the demons brought to sea. and yet, your mother still pleaded with your father to let her follow. you witnessed his vehement refusal and the look he bore when he called you vulnerable — a frail thing to be protected. while it didn't stop you from joining as soon as he was out of sight, it was wildly unfair that he would have the authority to demand that.
if the tsahik could still fight while she was with child, so could your mother. and had you not been there —
what was the point in mating for life if you resented the life that it brought?
denying neteyam's affections meant that nothing would change. you could keep his company and maintain your freedom. it was tragic but it was the path you could settle for. it would have to be enough.
"i'm sorry, se'lei, i don't like to think about it," you signed with a noticeable defeat in your shoulders.
it was exhausting to plan a life alone.
. ｡˚ ° . 𓇼 . ° ˚｡ .
the secluded cave wasn't far from the village. the entrance was partly hidden by lush plants of different colors and a curtain of hanging leaves that swayed every time the breeze touched them. its walls were illuminated with glowing vines and flowers that were embedded into the cracks. the best part was the warm pools of water that lit up with the algae growing in them.
it was a popular spot for the young women and girls of the village to start their mornings with. and, though there weren't any rules prohibiting them from being there, the boys avoided the cave until the girls vacated. especially after a particular incident where rotxo, aonung, and spider tried to go in and were scared off by a series of hisses and threats thrown at them.
most days, you and tsireya were there before the others arrived to make the most of the tranquility. it turned into a routine after so many years — wake up, catch up in the cave pools while waiting for the other girls to come, go through your separate days, and if you didn't see each other again that day, you would see each other in the morning.
today, however, you were late.
you and se'lei swam later than usual in an effort to distract your mind. by the time you came back, you had to sneak into your family's marui to not wake your parents.
by now, half of the village was probably awake and if you still wanted to get to the pools before everyone, you needed to hurry. you barely had time to slip on a clean tewng. tsireya could fix your hair when you saw her.
when you finally slipped past the woven fabric covering the entrance, you didn't even make it five steps when you felt the warmth of a hand on your shoulder.
"on your way to meet tsireya?" his voice spoke behind you.
had he been waiting for you?
without turning around, you slipped out of his grasp to take two more steps, "yes! sorry, i am late," you called out over your shoulder, "i'll see you, neteyam!"
each of your hurried steps were on the edge of a run, but his longer strides caught up to you effortlessly. then his hand was on your shoulder once again, this time spinning you to face him.
"i don't think that is a great idea," the lovely smile on his lips was teasing, like he knew something you didn't.
"why not?" you frowned.
"i caught lo'ak sneaking off early this morning," he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "he took a flower with him."
he began to turn you in the other direction, to the beach.
"he must be gone by now," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"i don't know," he bent his head close to your ear and quietly asked, "do you really want to go see if you're right?"
you both knew the answer to that question.
if you still wanted to go it would need to be later, when all the girls were there and their conversations were too loud.
it wasn't the first time tsireya used the morning to 'bond' with lo'ak — as she liked to put it — but she always warned you the night before. you could've avoided the rushing, done something to your hair.
your hair! it was no doubt a tangled mess of curls. the small braids that adorned it were already loosening.
with a frustrated sigh, you let neteyam drag you away.
"don't look so disappointed, ean menari. i thought you enjoyed my company," he teased.
"not when it is forced upon me!" you scoffed and gave him a playful shove. it did little to sway him.
"and what about when your company is forced upon me?" he quipped.
"forced!" you spluttered, "you have never uttered a complaint—"
"if complaining is all it takes to get rid of you then maybe i should."
"in fact it is," with narrowed eyes to hide your smile, you began to turn around, "i will see you."
before you could slide out of his grasp, his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you closer to him. "no!" he laughed, "don't leave."
it took falling back into a comfortable silence to notice how his body was pressed against yours. he was the warmth that was stripped from the air last night. his arm was steady around your shoulders, gentle and safe. it was really, really difficult not to acknowledge it.
especially with how his fingers traced little patterns on your shoulder. did he even know he was doing it?
the tranquility of the pools had nothing on this — warmth and peace, and it was all in neteyam.
until your chest rumbled with a soft purr.
it was entirely surprising — impressive, even — the speed and rigidity with which you froze.
your breath was caught in your lungs and your eyes were wide in horror.
there was no doubting that neteyam heard it. even if eywa had mercilessly sent a hundred skimwings roaring out of the water at once, his ears were trained to hear the swish of a tail a distance away.
"see," he teased, "i knew you liked my company."
you groaned, slamming your face into your hands.
a quick search through your memories confirmed that you had never felt mortification like this before. it wasn't even a question with how hot your face felt and how tightly coiled your tail was around your leg.
and neteyam… he… was laughing!
he had wrapped both of his arms around your body and almost trembled with each peal of laughter. your face was wedged against his chest with only your hands as a barrier. if you could move them, even a little, your nose would press against his skin.
but if you were caught doing that…
you hadn't even realized he stopped laughing until you felt the gentle grip of his hands around your wrists as he pulled them away from your face.
still, your eyes remained closed, unwilling to face him.
"oh, come on," he was definitely smiling with that lovely smile of his, "there is no need to hide those blue eyes from me."
you huffed indignantly.
"i already knew how fond you were of me."
"i am leaving," you groaned. sure, you sounded petulant but you also didn't make any effort to move.
"why else would you always seek me out for your little trips around the waters," despite the teasing tone, it lacked a certain humor. he sounded sure.
even with your eyes firmly shut, you felt the shift when he took one of your loose braids between his fingers — the piece you were braiding last night.
the shift was subtle. in fact, there was barely a difference. but you felt it in how your ears seemed to ring and how your heart began to race and how your breath hitched in your throat.
"you're the only friend i have who has been beyond the sea," you choked out. it was a surprise there was any strength left in you to speak.
"is that right?" he murmured. "i seem to remember lenetu bragging about his voyage to the floating mountains before."
"yes, but he is not my friend."
you only had so much self-control. the resolve to keep your eyes shut was waning.
the slight tug he gave to your braid was all it took for them to flutter open.
you had braced to be blinded by the sun, but it was only that deep shade of blue that crowded your vision.
you knew that he had stepped into your space, you could feel the heat that only came from proximity. and he was close enough for every inhale to be overwhelmed by his scent — a heady mix of moss and something sweeter that was purely neteyam.
his exhale brushed against the side of your face. it could have been the breeze but that had never felt this intimate.
it was dizzying.
but it still startled you to see just how close he had gotten. close enough to appreciate the woven details of his necklace. beads of various blues accented the darker wood. it was pretty and one of the simpler pieces he liked to wear.
but, if you tilted your head a little higher…
the familiar amber. more than just fire, though they contained plenty of that, they were speckled with splinters of brown. like the wood of his necklace but richer in quality.
all the beauty that eywa provided in nature and the purest form of the color could only be found in his eyes.
and they weren't even looking into yours like they usually were. they were fixated on the side of your neck — at the pattern of stars that adorned it.
"is that what i am?" he whispered, the corner of his mouth tilted in a smirk.
"yes," you hesitated.
it wasn't even a question, was it? if it was, he didn't give you any time to think about it.
all your efforts singled on the finger that had been toying with your braid. it had glided to trace a line of tanhi that trailed down the side of your neck.
it was a small stroke. gentle and soft like the sigh that left your mouth. the briefest contact against your skin and it was gone before you could memorize it.
would he have continued to trace it down your body if he hadn't been obstructed by your own necklace?
neteyam's face had gone blank. devoid of any previous teasing or smirks.
if he heard the purr before, there was a possibility that he could hear your heart hammering against your chest.
"actually, i think you might be my best friend," you cleared your throat and shifted back, desperate to disrupt whatever this was.
he blinked, a slow smile forming.
you looked away to the nearby water that stretched farther than you could see. as if it was more interesting than trying to figure out if the beads in his hair matched the ones on his necklace.
the moment was gone but the expression on his face did nothing to calm the unfettered twists your stomach was going through.
"okay, i can't wait longer. come," he gave you no time to question it. he was already stepping onto the sands of the beach.
you kept a distance as he led you to a corner shaded by tall palms. ever the polite man his father raised him to be, he guided you to sit first before he sat down beside you.
the early morning meant that the sun had not been out long. the sands weren't as hot as they could be. the thrust of waves hitting the shore were calm. neteyam was there.
there should be no reason for the thumping in your chest, the churns of your stomach, the shallow breaths you took, or the squirming of your tail.
you were practically buzzing, but you already made a fool out of yourself with accidental purrs and soft sighs. you could not let yourself do that again. instead, you smiled — forced but friendly.
"so, what is pulling on your patience this morning, neteyam?"
"my patience is never pulled," he scoffed, "that is only you."
your tail whipped to slap his shoulder. "whatever, get on with it," you waved your hand.
"see!" he laughed.
your lips pursed to refrain the jolt of laughter that bubbled in your throat.
as if to make a point, he didn't speak right away. his tail waved around in the air a few times before finally tucking itself under his leg.
three breaths later, "if my family never fled the forest, i would have been the olo'eyktan after my dad," his voice was even and tempered, as if he had rehearsed his words, "even though we have no connections to that mantle here, he still holds those expectations of me."
you knew that. anyone who was around his family knew that. neteyam was competent in everything he did. he was vicious in battles; a skilled warrior in the sea, the land, and the sky. he moved through conflicts with a grace and authority that was simply inherent in him. most of all, he understood duty. you saw it from afar. in the way he cared for his siblings, in the gentle obedience he showed his mother, and how he absorbed the lessons of his father. it never left — the makings of a leader.
"it is okay to admit it," you mused quietly, "you hold them of yourself, too."
he turned to face you with his ears lowered. he only nodded and then continued, "he thinks i should finally start to court a mate."
the words slowly unraveled a thread of cold that spread until it consumed your every limb. even the warmth of his gaze left your body frozen.
although your muscles were rigid, it didn't stop the flinch of your ears as they pressed flat against your head.
unlike before, the shift in the air felt violent despite the same ringing in your ears and racing of your heart and hitch in your breath.
he was going to ask. it was happening.
it was over.
all you could do was smile. delay the inevitable.
when you did, you saw the brief wavering of doubt fade from his face, replaced by something lighter. an expression you were familiar with. "i agree with him, but i need to know what you think."
"i think it is a great time," your words were slow, trying to find them as they formed, "lo'ak and tsireya's mating ceremony is soon, rotxo is courting kiri, aonung is considering someone, too," you smiled, "it makes sense for you to find someone as well."
he nodded, "actually —"
"have you considered nu'ven?" you cut him off, "she is beautiful and she has expressed interest in you before, so has maza," please tell me you get it, neteyam, "they are exceptional women, perfect for you."
he paused and you didn't turn to look at him. your sights were firm on the lapping waters ahead.
"you misunderstand," he sounded amused.
"i do not," you winced.
"you do, i already chose —"
"does she know?" you blurted out.
he chuckled, low and teasing, "clearly not."
you could not let him say the words you knew he would say.
"as your friend, i think you should seek them out soon," you smiled, "i could help in any way you need me to," you tried to sound casual, "i know some of them will ask me for help in getting your attention," you only sounded detached, "you know — because of our friendship."
"i know you are not this dense," he spoke carefully, "i already chose you."
"no," the word tumbled out of you almost too quickly.
he said nothing. with each second that passed, your heart pounded harder. it was beginning to get difficult to breathe until —
"what?"
there was nothing you could do to take it back now.
"unchoose me," you whispered. it was well and truly over.
when you finally glanced over, his eyes were intent on your face. it only made you frown deeper.
he opened his mouth around words he didn't seem to have.
you had none to offer him either.
"i chose you a long time ago," he stressed, "i thought you knew this."
your face crumpled, "i knew."
he moved to kneel beside you, no hesitation in the glide of his movements. "if you knew, then it is only because you felt it, too," he said slowly, "i see you, yawne, more than you think."
your breath stuttered and you couldn't look away. the confidence and fervor in his posture was palpable. he pulled you up to your knees, dragging your body closer to his. you let yourself melt into him, sagging under his gaze, and allowing your skin to touch his.
his hands reached for your face and you let him. you didn't move when his nose brushed your temple, then his cheek to your cheek. when he rested his forehead on yours, you didn't close your eyes.
you let yourself stay in the stolen moment of affection. one that you did not deserve to acknowledge. you were going to break his heart and therefore this was not yours to have.
"it does not matter what i felt, i can't be your mate, neteyam," you urged.
despite yourself, you grazed your own nose against his. later, you would tell yourself it was reflexive, a twitch. the soft sound he made was only a twitch, too.
"yes, you can," he murmured.
"no!" you hissed, harsh despite the tender way you leaned into the touch of his hands, "i beg you to choose someone else."
"i don't want anyone else, i want you."
his tail found your leg. unlike the teasing brushes you were familiar with, it now wrapped itself around your thigh, possessive.
if you angled your head just so, his mouth would hover over yours. you could lean in, taste him. his hand would find your waist, pull you impossibly closer. your hand would find his neck and you might let your fingers tug on the braids it touched. it would be too easy. it was tempting.
it was too much.
you needed to leave.
you didn't even feel like you were in your body. there was a corporeal form moving against your desires. it untangled itself from neteyam's hold and fell backwards. it ignored his hand when it reached out. it scrambled away from him, lost. it stood from the sand and staggered back.
you only realized you had tears spilling down your cheeks when one landed on your collarbone.
"wait—"
"neteyam, i cannot chose you."
even, tempered, rehearsed.
he only shook his head, ears flickered down but his eyes never left yours.
he called out your name and you ignored it. any word he wanted to say would only hurt the two of you more.
it was your fault for thinking that a friendship would last if you ignored the fire. and you weren't going to watch your favorite person burn in it.
one foot after another, you barreled yourself through the village. it was bustling now, with the people starting their mornings. any intent to meet with tsireya was gone. the cave pools would be full with the girls of the village and you had no desire to see their faces.
it made something in the base of your throat knot at the new reality that bled into your mind — neteyam would mate with one of them.
you just begged him to.
hi! you've reached the end of part 1. so far, i have two more parts planned but that may change to 4 (maybe 5) if the story calls for it. thank you for reading and please consider interacting with this post if you'd like to show your support :) part two is up now!
Oke, So, I have no excuse, I fell in love again lol❤️🩹❤️🩹😫 they're both so cute together, right now I'm a gluttony demon devouring everything that has to do with them, I made a playlist and everything and I want to draw more but djxjflxijxkxidndo help 🥺💖💖
WARNINGS: p in v / infidelity / reader has female body / porn with plot / reader is metkayina / dirty talk / public sex / cunnilingus / multiple positions / size kink / belly imprint mentions / hair pulling / multiple orgasms / backshots
AN: so sorry for leaving you guys for so long, i needed to take a writing break because i have a really bad habit of writing a bunch then getting super burnt out so i need to remind myself to take a week or two to recharge and get back into it!! anyways i hope u guys enjoy this!! as much as i love neytiri i rlly wanted to do like a guilty kinda dark smut also for everyone who voted on the poll DWWW because neteyam is next!
WC: 2.9k
꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
The Na'vi from the forest came with a different beat. They were awkward and strange, their bodies too lean, their tails too stiff, their feet unsuited for the sand and coral. You observed from your perch above the village as the great Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully, stood before your leaders. His kin stood with him, a look of defiance and terror in their eyes.
You were chosen, along with a few others, to assist in their acclimation. To teach them the ways of the water. It was one of the ways you came to know him. Up close, he was even more menacing. A warrior forged from the darkness of a mighty tree, his aura spilling over the area surrounding you. And his eyes. There was a heaviness in them that you couldn't understand, this depth of sorrow tempered with the steel of a survivor.
You instructed him on how to hold his breath for longer periods of time, on how to swim with the currents instead of against them. His imperfect spear thrusts would be corrected by your gentle hands, your bodies brushing together for an instant too long. You also instructed him in the song of the reef, the names of the various corals and fishes. During these classes, you would notice him looking at you. Not the way a student looks at his instructor, but the way a starving man looks at a woman.
He would look at your mouth, your hips, the way your own thick tail swished back and forth in the water. Then, suddenly remembering himself, he would swallow, his voice harsh and loud in the quiet lagoon, and distance himself from you. You could see the flicker of guilt passing over his face, followed by his own gaze drifting away, preoccupied with the horizon and the burdens of his own conscience, which weighed heavier than the weight of any prying eyes. The struggle between them was almost alive, the third entity to join them in the water.
Now, today's lesson was finished. You were swimming back to the main part of the reef, your heart full of joy. Your tsurak moved easily across the water's surface, and with you swam your tulkun brother, Ro’no. He was singing his deep, throaty song. The day was a perfect one. The sun warmed your scale-covered skin, and the air was thick with the salt of the reef.
Then came the shadow.
A monstrous metal shape, a wound on the surface of the ocean, began to rise. A sky people submarine. You could barely register the danger, a dreadful, metallic thwump booming through the water. The song died away into a pained, gurpling scream. You looked down to see a terrible metal spear protruding from his side, a cloudy red streamer of brilliant crimson blood seeping into the water.
Panic gripped you now, cold and clear. You called out his name in futile shouting that was lost in the vastness of water. You urged your tsurak forward, your heels dug into its flanks in blind terror. But your pursuer was faster. A harpoon lanced out of the water to impale your mount behind its head. Your tsurak collapsed in death seconds before you tumbled into the foamy water below.
You swam.
You swam with every last bit of energy in you, gasping for air, muscles screaming in torment. The shadow of the submarine hung above you, a hunter playing with its victim. The vibrations of the engine thrummed in the water around you. Any hope was long lost. It was now or never. Your eyes clenched shut, and in an act of final desperate prayer, you held up your queue to your chest and prayed to Eywa.
Then a missile was launched from the submarine; the trail of bubbles was coming straight for you.
You gritted your teeth, bracing for impact, but there was none. Rather, an intoxicating Arm dragged you back out of the water, forcing you so violently you almost screamed. You found yourself weightless, plummeting onto a slick, blue back. Your eyes snapped open. It was Jake. He sat on his tsurak, his muscles thrown up in a rigid barricade in front of you, one arm clenched like an iron vise across your waist. He kept his gaze fixed fixedly straight ahead, forcing you backward and away from the metal behemoth killing your brother.
"You should really be more careful, sweetheart." He warned, though you could sense the underlying teasing tone to his words.
He didn’t stop until the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, steering his tsurak towards a small, isolated reef isle. He helped you down, his fingers grazing your side in a way that was just a fraction of a second too long before he stepped back. He disconnected his queue from his mount, then patted it hard. ”Go. Go tell the Metkayina what’s happened. Tell them where we are.” The tsurak let out a protesting cry before leaping back into the water.
The silence was oppressive, apart from the occasional splash of the waves against the shore. Jake moved with a bruteness that verged on brutality, gathering driftwood to build a fire. You sat on the sand, your knees tucked into your chest, the memory of blood in the water etched behind your eyes. The adrenaline was ebbing, leaving you with a hollow, shaking void.
He sat down beside you, not touching but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin. The space between you was heavy with all of the things that you'd been meaning to say. The sideways looks, his fingers drifting against yours and then jerking back as if he’d been burned.
“Thank you,” You finally managed to whisper hoarsely. You moved closer, despite your fear, your need for comfort taking over. He coughed, his eyes fixed intently upon the fire. His tail-twitch was aggressive, jerky movements in the sand beneath him. He simply nodded, his body tense with every muscle strained.
You reached out and touched his bicep, feeling the rock-solid muscle underneath his skin. "Jake. I don't even know how to thank you. You just saved my life."
That was it. The breaking point.
Slowly, he turned his head to turn to you. The flames of the fire danced in his eyes, making them gleam with gold before shifting to molten amber. You saw the struggle in his eyes, of duty, guilt, and loyalty, but something else too, something primal and hungry, something reflected in your own hungers. His eyes rested upon your lips, then returned to your eyes. Between you, the distance had vanished.
He could take it no longer.
His lips crashed down on yours. It wasn't an gentle kiss. It was an aggressive, needy kiss. There was salt and pain and an illicit passion that had been simmering for what felt like weeks. His hands were in your hair, grasping it, holding you to him as if he were starving for this kiss. You kissed him back just as roughly, your hands grasping for his chest, for the fabric of his loincloth.
He pulled you into his embrace, his hardness pressed against your body, his thickness bulging against the thin leather of his trousers. He ended the kiss, his breathing heavy in his chest as he looked at you with an expression of both lust and torment.
"I shouldn't," he growled, but his movements contradicted him. His hands wandered all over your body, learning your contours, his thumbs rubbing against the peaks of your nipples through your top. "But I have to. I have to taste all of you," he was mumbling.
He laid you back down on the sandy bed, his husky body covering your entire length. He pulled at the ties of your chest wrap, peeling it back to expose your breasts. He groaned, burying his head between your breasts as his mouth accepted a peaked nipple. His biting and sucking sparked an electric sensation that went straight to your loins, wetting you for him.
His hand trailed down your belly, slipping between your legs. No hesitation, his fingers locating your dampness, caressing you expertly. "You're so wet for me," he whispered against your skin. "So fucking ready." He thrust two fingers deep, then a third, pumping in and out while his thumb danced around your clit. You arched your hips into his touch, milked him for every sensation he could provide, and sighs left your lips.
But he was far from finished teasing you. He shifted, his lips trailing down your body until he was nestled between your legs. He gazed up at you, his eyes dark and feral. Before you could process what he was about to do, his lips lowered and his tongue was on you. He ravaged you with an intensity that teetered on the edge of brutal savagery, his lips and tongue devouring your most sensitive spot until you’re thrashing and pleading for respite. When your climax finally detonated in your system, you screamed his name out loud.
Even before the ripples of pleasure dissipated, he began the next movements. He began the process of undoing his own loincloth. The fabric dropped away. His cock erupted from the loosened cloth, large, hard, and bending upward. He reached out a quick stroke before fixing his gaze on yours.
“I'mma fuck you,” he said, his voice a low command, barely audible as his lips trace all over your skin. “I'm going to fuck you until you forget everything but my name.”
He hooked his hands under your knees, separating your legs far apart. He placed himself at your entrance and thrust inside, slowly and deeply, extending you to your limit. You gasped at the overwhelming feel of being so thoroughly stretched by him. He paused to let you adjust, and then he started moving.
His strokes were powerful and deep, a punishing rhythm that echoed his own pent-up emotions. Every slam of his body against yours left you winded.
He shifted his weight, pressing deeper, and his eyes drifted down to where your bodies were joined. A low, guttural groan rumbled in his chest as he saw it: the thick, rigid outline of his cock pressing against your stomach, a clear, undeniable imprint of his size inside you. He slowly withdrew, almost all the way out, and you watched, transfixed, as the bulge vanished.
Then he thrust back in, hard and deep, and the shape reappeared, more pronounced than before. "Look at that," he growled, his voice a rough, possessive whisper. He placed a large hand flat on your belly, his thumb pressing down right over the head of his cock through your skin.
"Fuck, look at you. So small, taking all of me." A hot blush crept up your neck and flooded your cheeks, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at his raw words. But it was immediately followed by a jolt of dark, shameful pleasure.
You loved it. You loved how he filled you so completely, how his size was a claim written on your very body. He saw your blush and smirked, his eyes darkening with lust. "Yeah, baby. Take it. Take it all."
He grasped a wad of your hair, forcing your head back to bare your neck to him. He bit down on the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder joined, just enough to leave a mark, to claim you.
"You feel that?" he growled in your ear. "You feel how hard you make me? I've wanted this since I saw you," he said.
He maneuvered, drawing out and turning you onto your stomach. He penetrated you from behind, this new positioning allowing him to push even deeper. He reached for your hips, drawing them back to meet his thrusts. The slapping of skin against skin, combined with your cries and his growls, filled the night air.
Then, you felt it. The sensation of a caress against your own queue. You stiffened. He was reaching for the ultimate contact a Na'vi could give.
“Jake.” you breathed, a warning and a plea.
"Shhh," he comforted, his movements slowing. "Let me in. Let me feel you," he pleaded.
He carefully picked the tip of your queue in his hand and extended it to connect with his own. As soon as they met, a world of pleasure erupted inside your head. In an instant, you knew what he was feeling: the grief in his heart, the guilt for Neytiri, the urgent need for you, the bliss of being inside you. And he knew what you were feeling: your fear, your grief for your tulkun, the mind-blowing pleasure he was giving you.
It was too much. The combination of physical pleasure and emotional ecstasy pushed you toward another orgasm. His body was experiencing it too, and his movements became erratic, desperate.
"Come for me," he ordered, the voice in your head as well as in your ears. "Come with me."
Your release shattered you, a silent scream ripping from your throat as your internal walls snapped shut around him. The rush of your orgasm resonating through his mind launched him over the edge. With a brutal thrust, he drove himself deep within you and spilled his seed, a roar of pure, painful pleasure erupting from his chest. You felt his warm seed flood your channel, and within your link, his soul shattered and rebuilt in one blinding instant.
He collapsed upon you, and the weight was a comforting, settling pressure. You simply lay there for a long time, the fire snapping, the waves lapping against the shore. The connection you shared dissipated, but the imprint of his thoughts within your mind was left. He retreated, and you felt a twinge of sadness from the void.
He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you were facing him. He reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was shockingly tender now. He focused his attention on the mark he had put on your shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice heavy with a feeling you couldn't quite place. “For everything.”
You understood he wasn’t just talking about the bite. He was talking about Ro’no, about the submarine, about his wife, about this whole, perfect, terrible moment. You didn’t say anything. You merely leaned in and kissed him softly, a gentle pressing of lips, worlds away from the desperation in the kiss just moments before.
He hugged you back, his arms enfolding you as he held you tightly to his chest as though he feared you'd vanish. And in this forgotten, minute island, under the observation of Eywa, you and he discovered this dark, beautiful refuge in each other’s embrace.
But the solace was not to last.
Faint at first, then growing clearer, voices carried across the water. They were calling your names. Tonowari's deep, steady boom. Ronal's sharp, concerned trill. And then, a voice that made Jake's entire body go rigid against yours: Neytiri.
"Jake!"
Panic, sharp and sudden, sliced through the after-sex haze. Both of you scrambled up from the sand, a clumsy, frenetic waltz of reclaiming rejected cloth. You smoothed your loincloth, quickly rebinding your chest cloth, your hands shaking. Jake latched his own loincloth, his movements swift and sure. He ruffled his long hair, trying to erase all signs of your frenzied sex.
You noticed him, and a slow, menacing grin crept across his features. There was no remorse in his eyes only the excitement of evasion.
"Close call," he silently mouthed, his eyes aglow with the intensity of an animal.
The calls were getting closer. You could make out the forms of their ilus swimming through the water towards the island. Neytiri was the first one who reached the shore. She leapt off her ilu before it came to a complete stop. She rushed towards Jake, embracing him in a hug as he navigated off his own mount.
“Jake!” she exclaimed again, burrowing her face into him. “We were so worried. The tsurak said you were attacked.” He hugged her in return, his arms wrapping around her waist, but his gaze was locked on you from over her shoulder. "We're okay," he said calmly and steadily. "It's okay. We're okay."
Ronal and Tonowari soon followed. And the Tsahík's acute eyes had already settled upon you, her face reflecting both fierce maternal protectiveness and relief. She flung herself toward you, cupping your face with gentle hands as if searching it over for wounds. "My child," she whispered, pressing her thumbs against your cheek. "Are you hurt? What happened?"
“I'm okay, Tsahík,” you managed to say, your voice raw from screaming. “They… they killed Ro'no A wave of sadness passed over Ronal's face, but her attention never wavered from you. She searched you thoroughly, her hands resting on your arms and sides to see if you were wounded anywhere. But you felt none of it.
Your entire soul had been attuned to the man with his woman mere feet away from you. Jake was caressing Neytiri's hair, whispering soothing nothings, but he never looked away from you. The pull was magnetic and irrevocable. In those eyes, you saw the echo of your ecstasy, the whisper of desperate moans, the sensation of hands upon your skin.
He was with her, but he is with you, with you in the firelight, with you on the sand, lost in a passion that never should have been. While his mate hugged him tight and the Tsahik attended to you, the two of you simply sat there, the mystery of the island poised between you
Synopsis, Spider wasn’t the first human born on Pandora, but he was the first to grow up on it. You had Neytiri’s heart long before Jake came along, and you’d have both of theirs long after. The problem is, humans weren’t meant for Pandora. Even so, Eywa saw you, and it seems like she accepted you. Maybe that's why, even after being without you for so long, they saw you again.
WC: 10.5k (oh wow)
inspired by @jsooly taken in by the sullys series!
A/N: I wrote this quite literally at 5 am, and it's drastically different from my usual writing style, but I like it! Very bittersweet! and written with the assumption that whoever is reading this knows about Sylwanin and her lore.
You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.
After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora
So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone.
Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?
Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.
Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.
You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker.
Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.
She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up.
Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.
Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.
“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.
You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in.
Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching.
A new brain to fill, maybe.
So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.
It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.
Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.
It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote.
They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid.
But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.
You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on.
He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably.
At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar.
They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.
Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly.
You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.
Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.
With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up.
You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.
They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.
Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you.
“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.
“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”
From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.
Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on.
Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace.
Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.
Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.
“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them.
In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought.
Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you.
Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it.
You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly.
Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast.
You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it.
Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.
She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world.
She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad.
Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was.
At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request.
But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.
Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.
You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age.
Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid.
Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.
You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.
Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day.
Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.
You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.
When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite.
You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others.
You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.
Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay.
It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces.
You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them.
You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly.
He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room.
“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face.
She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.
You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair.
Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him.
As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in.
“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him.
It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy.
You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life.
He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.
“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you
So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.
To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved.
The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.
It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty.
And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep.
He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining.
Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg.
Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for.
If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.
It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri.
Neytiri. Your Neytiri.
You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin!
Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to.
Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.
Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…
Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you.
It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.
Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.
It was you.
He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.
He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.
So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of.
It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go.
Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?
But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified.
He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.
You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine.
But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.
You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them.
Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.
You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.
Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal.
You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.
So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.
The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines.
They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you.
You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you.
Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach.
You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.
She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention.
An Atokirina.
It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin.
Mo’at’s eyes widened.
“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.
They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.
Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.
Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face.
You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.
And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death.
The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.
Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group.
With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.
You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay.
“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd.
Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water.
You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw. You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.
Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.
They didn’t know what to do.
You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away.
Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.
They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do?
Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips.
“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged
“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”
You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face.
Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done.
You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.
The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically.
You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.
Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.
So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach.
Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.
The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.
Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.
They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.
It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.
Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words.
She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could.
Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?
One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms.
She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky.
She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree.
She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.
An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air.
The first breath.
Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as.
A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.
Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.
She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.
“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her.
Words exchanged between them in complete silence.
He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui.
The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.
“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.
Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”
He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned.
There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle.
“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”
Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand.
Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.
“Syuli”
After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya.
He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.
Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.
By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death.
It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died.
The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.
“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care.
Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved.
Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri.
She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again.
Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in.
A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum
Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn
a’atanur oe mameyam
meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom
A child, Y/n, i knew
showed to me, a blessing
a light I held in my arms
I hold you, even when gone
It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.
This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.
So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted.
But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies.
Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.
Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them.
Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.
But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.
That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat.
He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.
“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”
Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke.
“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.
They had to protect their children.
The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.
They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.
Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.
As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.
Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.
She resembled you.
He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you.
She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something.
Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.
She saw it too.
Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family.
His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.
Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life.
She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.
Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.
She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.
She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”
“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan.
“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”
Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.
“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying.
Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded.
“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life.
Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family.
“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”
Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.
“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister.
You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces.
They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.
Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.
It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago.
You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children.
Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems.
It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.
You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.
How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand.
She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.
It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you.
You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.
She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it.
She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree.
She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had.
She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother.
But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again.
It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.
They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister.
Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.
Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived.
Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.
And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew.
By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of.
Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members.
You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life.
You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.
The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins.
You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.
You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin.
She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.
Grace.
You spoke her name before Kiri told you.
An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.
“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.
You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.
Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved.
They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it.
They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you.
You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood.
But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief.
“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.
“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek.
For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.
Back to her.
That girl.
She haunted them.
A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago.
They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost.
But she was back.
They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure.
Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.
They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed.
But she wasn’t.
She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living.
They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.
They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.
It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.
You couldn’t be.
But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her.
“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief.
“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it.
He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face.
“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.
The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways.
“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”
Their eyes met.
At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again.
All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind.
It almost hurt more than the grief itself.
They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers.
It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.
Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.
You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.
He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-
“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.
“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”
Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.”
Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him.
“No, we simply see how great you are.”
Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter.
Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.
You weren’t alone.
You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly.
You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place.
Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.
The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live.
It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved.
Just not by them.
And that was ok.
They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good.
You’d found what you needed, even if it wasn’t with them.
─── ⋆ I'VE ALREADY CHOSEN . ao'nung x fem!metkayina!reader
ao'nung has to choose a mate, the metkayina has many fine women, but he's already chosen ; cw. fluff , childhood friends to lovers , reader is oblivious , inspired by the scene where jake sully goes “i don’t want ninat” ; words. 1,4k
author's note ⌇ currently working on a few drafts hehe but i'm not sure when i'll get the requests done soooo please bare with me lol. i'm having a long weekend so hopefully i'll have some up for u guys :) also this is so messy i hate it
the festival sang beautifully across the ocean. warm lighting sparked under the blue hues of the reef, people danced and celebrated harmoniously with one another— it was the coming-of-age ritual for the young na'vi of metkayina, symbolizing the passage and process of being accepted as an adult. it showed blessings from eywa and the bond with the ancestors, magically intertwining identity, culture, and spirit.
it was a sign of maturity. the ink was still fresh as you and ao'nung slipped away from the bustling noise of the festival, walking side by side to where the waters met the mangroves behind. it was a known spot amongst the youths, seen as a place to hide away from the faces of adults and expectations that went alongside growth. people held hangouts, loud conversations, and sweet gatherings there. it was funny that it was quiet now, and ironic that you and ao'nung sat no longer as teenagers, but as someone older.
ao'nung's smile lit up the dim area as he admired the tattoo that sat perfectly near your forehead, extending until it reached the side of your cheek. you did the same to his, it was similar but contained different meanings, different experiences, but kindred feelings. he is the future olo'eyktan, littered with new duties and heavy responsibility. ao'nung couldn't escape it now, there was no way out of the path eywa has chosen. he couldn't sneak out at night with his friends anymore, explore beyond the boundaries of the ocean, or run head first into fights.
you were a great artisan. you're great at creating hand-woven crafts, designing beautiful pieces for your people to wear, and excelled at fixing tools, mending broken gear, and recognizing natural materials for use. it was a tricky skill, sure— but it was also a required course for everyone to learn. you were nowhere close to being a tsakarem like ao'nung's sister, tsireya. mixing herbs and oils together to create medicine and therapeutics were far out your field of interest. so, as time passed you never dared to think of ao'nung choosing you as his mate.
however, you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard ao'nung laugh, “i know i look gorgeous, especially with my new mark, but you do not have to stare at me like that.” he didn't even try to hide the smugness that came alongside his words. at this point, you were used to ao'nung's teasing. he was known to be rather friendly with the girls in the clan, he had an ego and you knew he wouldn't deny the attention he got from his peers. you scoffed, tearing your eyes away from him— ao'nung noticed it seemed like it took physical effort. you shook your head, you didn't realize you were staring right at him while zoned-out.
“don't flatter yourself, ao'nung. your confidence is large enough to sink a skimwing. eight of them, actually.” you looked away, blind to the fact ao'nung was staring back at you, his gaze calm and gentle— like the waves during a low tide. he laughed again, “that's not true, i'd say maybe around ten when i'm not trying,” the jokes became a routine between the two of you. you've grown comfortable around ao'nung. people respected how you've kept up with his attitude and personality, but truth be told he was different around you. it's not groundbreaking or anything, just subtle. but noticeable.
through the crowds, ao'nung's voice was loud so he could grab your attention. his touch became protective and gentle when it was towards you. he never hesitated to help and stay up past eclipse if it was regarding your matters— and he'd always be first to step up in front of you when you were teased by someone who wasn't him. people could sense how the atmosphere changed when ao'nung was with you, but you've told yourself that he was like this to everyone. to the point you've accepted it as a fact, not seeing how he sees you.
“it suits you well,” his voice echoed through the silence, his hand caressing the ink on your face softly, not wanting to damage the fresh ink or potentially cause discomfort. you hummed in acknowledgement, “so does yours.” ao'nung's ears perked up, you've complimented him on a daily basis and he gets flustered each time. you notice it sometimes, but not enough to truly accept there was some sort of tension growing between you and him.
his smile grows ever so widely, nudging your knee with his own. the contact was familiar— you had grown up together, raced with your ilus through shallow reefs, stolen extra food from communal dinners, shared secrets you never dared speak aloud. ao'nung had always been like this. he was touchy, effortlessly flirty, and you had always reminded yourself that was all it was. your shoulders relaxed on the mangrove root, “you think so?” ao'nung asked.
“yes. like it was always meant to be there. the future olo'eyktan of metkayina,” the words rolled off your tongue with practiced ease, “don't make me regret saying that though.” you added.
ao'nung's head rested by yours, the stars above peeking through the heavy leaves. the bioluminescence reflected faintly against his teal skin, you noticed how it made the tattoo glow slightly. ao'nung nodded, “you always say that,” he replied, his voice lighter than the weight that is settling in his chest.
the distant drums of the festival buzzed over the water, it was muted but persistent. neither of you spoke for a while, letting the new realizations of the future settle in for the first time. unlike ao'nung, you didn't know what life has in store for you, there was no path that was locked in for you to walk on. ao'nung shifted beside you, knees drawing closer, his tail flicking the shallow water below. he broke the silence with a sigh, it came out heavier than expected— “they'll start asking soon,”
you blinked, “about what?”
he turned his head to look at you, his expression was unreadable. “about who i will choose.”
oh.
oh.
your chest tightened involuntarily. you forced yourself to shrug whatever feeling you had off, keeping your tone casual under a trembling breath. there was no time for jealousy towards him, “well that makes sense. you're the future clan leader. they'll expect someone like you,” ao'nung's brows furrowed in confusion. you kept going, unaware— “there are plenty of women in the clan who would be perfect. zoi'le is a strong swimmer, she's the fastest from my group. and, at'ok is an excellent healer—”
that was when he fully turned towards you, “i don't want zoi'le. or at'ok.”
his voice was firm, it was a statement. the words landed heavy between you. you frowned but ao'nung was quick to respond, “i've already chosen.” you froze before laughing, rather awkwardly. trying to brush off the sudden heat you felt crawling up your neck. he reached out for your hand, it was warm and grounding. ao'nung tilted his head, “but this woman must also choose me.”
for the first time in your life you were no longer oblivious. you realized what he had meant, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement burst inside of you. everything became obvious— the endless amount of time you've spent together, the stolen glances, the prioritizing and worry, the subtle jealousy between friends. you swallowed a lump in your throat, but you were no tsahìk. you had zero experience or knowledge on the skills it takes to be one, you didn't fit in the image of the mate of an olo'eyktan, and you knew what this could mean for ao'nung.
“ao, i'm no healer, i'm no warrior—” your voice cracked despite yourself, “i don't know how to help lead a clan, or guide people, or carry the weight of being your mate,” you pulled your hand back slightly, fear settling in instead of the said excitement. ao'nung was quick to react, his hand tightened around yours, his expression was honest and sure. he asked quietly, “so? that does not matter to me. you think i chose you because you fit what they want? because you look good standing beside me?”
“you have always been there for me. when i was a child until now. you stood by me when i made mistakes, when i was reckless, when i was hurt, injured, or even mad. you're patient and you see more than just the future olo'eyktan. i've never had to prove anything when i am with you—” he took a breath before continuing, “you see me as just ao'nung. and that is who i want my mate to be. i want you because you already know my heart, because you already know me like home.”
your eyes burned, your chest blossomed with emotion.
“i choose you,” ao'nung finished softly, “because i see you.”
