#'angtsìk

[dusky-doe]

Hammerhead titanothere won my poll by quite a bit! I'll do the sturmbeest next :)

[avatarmovies]

avatar The wilderness of Pandora is a thing of beauty.

[sylwanin-was-right]

I never rlly payed attention to this but the palulukan (thanator) that chased Jake was fr prolly hunting that lone 'angtsìk (hammerhead), but then targeted Jake after it realized what easier prey he'd be to a literal WALL of hammerheads in threat displays when the lone 'angstìk regrouped.

It showed that both a single palulukan is a formidable force to strike fear in such a powerful and large animal, AND that ay'angtsìk as a group are formidable forces when stand their ground together.

Loved that moment between them!!

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1

summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.

There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 

You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 

Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 

His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  

His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 

(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”

“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”

Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)

If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 

(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)

In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?

Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 

But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 

He wasn’t like this before.

A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 

He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 

But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.

Mom did. 

She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.

Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.

Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 

Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  

Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 

“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”

Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”

Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”

“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”

“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”

“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”

“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”

“And mine isn’t?”

He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”

“Why?”

There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’

And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 

“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 

“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”

You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”

And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 

The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.

“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”

“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 

“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 

“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“

“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 

A beat. 

Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 

All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 

You just stared at him. 

“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”

You froze. “What?”

“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”

“Father—”

“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 

But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 

“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”

You didn’t want this. 

“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 

“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”

“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 

“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”

Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 

“Jake!”

That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.

His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.

Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 

Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 

Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.

The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."

[rivatar]

Can I make a request for dilf!JakexFemale! Omatikaya!reader?

While Neytiri is out hunting with the kids, jake makes his way to readers hut. And let’s just say reader is shorter than Neytiri so size kinkkkk🤭

Guilty Pleasure

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings/content: SMUT, jake cheating(sorry Neytiri), size kink, stalking/obsessing, some roughness/power over reader, oral/face sitting (Jake being a pussy eating king), p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, a sprinkle of angst at the end

W/c: 3.2k (holy shit-)

A/n: thank you for this request anon!!💖 I am a SUCKERRRR for dilf Jake! I got a lil carried away heheh but I hope y’all enjoy this! Comments, likes, and reblogs are SO appreciated! Muah 😘

“We will see you later, ma’Jake,” Neytiri sweetly said while motioning for the kids to go out of the hut, holding up the flap of fabric for them to walk by. Neteyam and Lo’ak went first, throwing a hand up and bidding a short “Bye, dad,” with their bows in hand.

“Come with us daddd!” Tuk whined and ran up and clung to his side. He chuckled at her.

“I’d love to, kiddo, but I gotta take care of something. Ya know, all my boring adult responsibilities,” He smiled gently.

She frowned up at him but had no choice but to accept he wasn’t coming.

“Bring me back a big ‘angtsìk(hammerhead titanothere)!” He joked while bending over and ruffling her short braids in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled at his absurd request and ran off to catch up with Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Kiri came moping out and rolling her eyes like usual, she was not excited that she was being forced to go hunt with them. It just wasn’t her thing. She gave Jake a quick “Bye” and walked out without looking at him.

“I love you too!” He laughed, “You’ll do great!” He cupped his mouth and shouted to her. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t suppress her small little grin of amusement. She pretty much always blatantly disrespected him but he loved her to death.

Neytiri smiled one last time at him before ducking under the flap, following her kids to go off to their hunt.

Jake’s smile faded from his face once they were out of sight.

He had a lovely wife and an amazing family—everything he could ever want and dream for. But unfortunately for him, his heart yearned for someone else. Someone who occupied his thoughts day-in and day-out, consuming his entire being.

He started to resent you for how bad he wanted you. But how could he blame you? You’ve done nothing. Nothing but just be utterly and effortlessly perfect. He felt like you casted a spell on him, damning him to be desperate for you. You were quite the sight to see; young and beautiful in all your glory. He could worship your body all day— the stunning curves of your hips and the rounding of your breasts. You were short in stature, not tawtute short but very much on the short side for a na’vi girl. But that just made Jake be drawn to you even more. During his endless daydreams involving you, he would have some particular thoughts of you. Images flooded his mind of getting to manhandle you around. He was bulkier than the average na’vi due to the combination of his human DNA, so he had no doubt in his mind he could toss you around effortlessly in several different positions. He also inevitably thought about how much tighter your smaller pussy probably was. And fuck, it wasn’t just your stunning appearance— it was also the way you were so damn sweet and compassionate to others. You never did anything wrong, it was like you really were perfect.

He longed to touch you and pleasure you, he would die a happy man if he could just watch you cum for him. It wasn’t even that he wanted the pleasure for himself, more than anything he wanted to pleasure you. So many scenarios have ran through his mind of imagining how your pretty face would scrunch up as an orgasm wracked through your petite body. He felt like he was loosing his mind, he hasn’t had this many vulgar, horny thoughts constantly since he was probably 17. It was like you made him young again. He wanted to show you how good he could make you feel. After all, he was experienced. Whether it was keeping Neytiri’s needs satisfied or previous lessons from his sexual partners back on earth, he’s learned a thing or two over time. He wondered if you’ve let any of the omatikaya boys fuck you. He hoped not, but he was sure they were all throwing themselves at your feet. I mean who the hell wouldn’t?

Jake had been stalking you for quite some time now. He pretty much had your daily schedule memorized and he’s even learned all your little mannerisms. Like how you looked down at the ground when you laughed, or how you quietly hummed to yourself when you were weaving. Sometimes throughout the day you would make eye contact when passing by each other. He noticed you would give him a little smile. It was like you knew you were torturing him.

But watching you from a distance and stalking you wasn’t cutting the mustard anymore for him. Sure, it satisfied the itch at first but it left him only wanting more. And stroking his cock to you felt good, but not as good as your soft, dainty hand would feel doing it.

He knew Neytiri was taking the kids hunting today to let them practice. And at this time of day, you were usually in your hut. He decided there wouldn’t be a more perfect time than now to approach you. He couldn’t let this keep eating him alive, he had to do something about it. So, he gathered up the courage to start his way over to you.

…

You were in your hut, cooling off a little. It was a hot, sunny day in Pandora and you always take a midday break around this time. Right before you were going to sit down, you seen a figure in your peripheral vision. It was… Jake?

“Jake.. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you stuttered and shifted to face him respectfully, caught off guard by your leader entering your hut. “Is something wrong?”

He stood confidently, almost like he owned the place— I mean he was the Olo’eyktan. Which was why you felt concerned and surprised to see him, surely it must be something important if he took the time to come here.

He surveyed you as you stuttered and slightly fidgeted with a hint of amusement in his eyes. His piercing gaze burned right through you, making you feel small and embarrassed. But he was the one coming into your home, so why were your cheeks heating up in embarrassment?

He finally broke the silence and breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid something is wrong,” he spoke with that low, sultry voice of his and once again burned holes into you with his eyes. He took slow steps towards you, casually.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the blood left your face. “W-What is it? I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, sir-“

“Don’t play dumb and innocent. You know exactly what it is.” He cut you off sharply.

You were taken aback, eyes widening in offense. “Excuse me?” You scoffed.

He kept inching closer and closer to you and you backed up in return, scowling at him. But unfortunately you backed up against the wall, having no more room to back up.

He was eyeing you down fiercely, power and authority exuding from his aura. But you weren’t a pushover, and you gave it your best effort at holding his eyes and not cowering.

He swiftly grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand on his hard erection covered by his loincloth. You gasped, once more taken aback.

“Understand?” He quipped.

You snatched your hand back and hissed at him. You were unable to form any words, so shocked at this predicament. Your scowl deepened and your breathing picked up, feeling the intensity in the atmosphere.

He let out a single chuckle of disbelief and shook his head.

“You do this to me. It’s your fault” he snapped, “You’ve been torturing me night and day and you know it” he accused with his pointer finger in your face.

Your mouth dropped a little, eyebrows scrunched in anger. “What?? I’ve done nothing! You’re fucking crazy!”

“You are such a little brat. Sounds like you need that attitude fucked out of you,”

You couldn’t help the coil that twisted in your stomach to his words. The obscenity of them made your body react with a mind of its own. Slick trickled out of your hole, making a little wet patch in your cloth.

His nose twitched and he grinned menacingly at your new smell of arousal. “Is that right? The lil’ slut needs her pussy stuffed with cock?”

Your cheeks heated up, making a purplish color on your face. You were losing this battle quickly. You blamed your body for betraying you so shamefully.

“Fuck you!” You finally said. It was your last attempt at trying to get the upper hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “That’s the plan.”

You scoffed again, still trying to make it seem like he was crazy and you didn’t want this. But in reality, you don’t think anything has ever piqued your interest more.

He put his fingers inside the band of your loincloth, tickling the soft area below your belly. Your heart thudded hard inside your chest and more waves of arousal coursed through you.

He slowly and lightly teased the area, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Not stopping me, I see,” he quietly mocked.

Your let your eyes fall to his chest which was right in front of you. You didn’t want to see the smug grin on his face.

“Now what if I touch your little pussy? Is she gonna blow your cover?” He taunted some more. You swallowed roughly as his fingers traced further and further down into your cloth until he got to your soaked cunt.

He ran a finger up your slit, eyes dilating as he basked in the incredible feeling of your slick pussy. Your legs parted on their own, giving him easier access and you whined softly, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, seemingly losing his control.

Your half lidded eyes met his again as he ran his fingers through your folds. You knew you were at the point of no return.

“Please..” you mewled quietly.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, still continuing his touching. “Oh so the brat has manners now?”

“Mhmm” you hummed shamelessly, pride be damned.

He licked his lips and looked down at your pretty lips, just waiting to be kissed. But he had other things in mind.

He yanked down your loincloth and it fell to your ankles then you kicked it aside. Then suddenly he knelt down and hitched one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, much to your surprise. You gasped hard at the first stroke of his tongue on your pussy lips.

“Oh!” You cried

You grabbed his dreads for support because your knees already felt weak. Looking down at him, the sight was purely sinful. He lapped, licked, sucked, and kissed all over your cunt, slurping up all your juices and making a complete mess on his face. He hummed and moaned on it, creating vibrations which elevated your pleasure.

He pulled back only for a second, your juices falling down his chin and painting his blue skin with white and clear shimmer. “You taste so fucking sweet, even better than I imagined,” he groaned in near disbelief. Then he continued working his mouth on your pussy.

You felt so good, feeling the most ecstasy you’ve ever felt. You’ve had a few partners and of course masturbate when needed but nothing and nobody has ever felt like this. He knew exactly where to go and how much pressure to apply and suck at.

He stuck a finger in your hole while he continued lapping on your clit. You moaned and fought to keep yourself standing up. He caught onto your struggle and swiftly moved to reposition you both. He laid himself back against the ground and had his hands hooked around you, bringing you down with him to then plop you right on his face.

Sitting on his face was much more comfortable and you tried to hold yourself up to hover some, but he grabbed your ass and pushed all your weight down on him. You switched between watching him do his thing and throwing your head back, closing your eyes and welcoming all the sensations. All his sounds were muffled but looking behind you and seeing his still rock hard erection and watching his feet curl and his legs dance around told you that he was very much enjoying himself.

You knew your orgasm was about to come. The pleasure was coming to a peak and you relaxed and let it happen. You came with a loud and drawn out moan, thighs shaking from the intensity. His humming got louder as he licked up all your essence, drawing out your high but letting off before you got overstimulated.

You rose off and scooted back a little to sit on his chest, looking down at his absolutely soaked face.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out roughly, trying to catch your breath, “you didn’t tell me you were a pussy eating expert”

He chuckled with that deep voice of his, making your pussy flutter. “You thought the old man wouldn’t know how to eat pussy? Baby girl I am very experienced,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, trying not to smile. Before letting you fully catch your breath, he sat up and effortlessly carried you with him, you were like a little rag doll in his huge, bulky arms. He hung you over one of his shoulders, ass up in the air. He smacked it and you let out a little yelp of surprise and smacked his back in return.

“You are so tiny, ya know that?”

You rolled your eyes once again. “Yes, everyone loves telling me how short I am” you complained.

“Mhmm well I think it’s hot as fuck”

He set you down on the table and you were facing him, legs spread out and pussy on full display. His eyes drank in the sight of your most intimate part, being fully captivated by you. You then took the reigns and slipped off your skimpy top, leaving him even more speechless. You smirked in satisfaction at how pussy whipped he was already.

He didn’t fail to notice your shit-eating grin and quiet laugh. “Oh yeah? You won’t be laughing much longer,” he threatened while untying the strings of his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor.

And it did in fact shut you up. He was huge. Your jaw hung low like an idiot and he laughed at you.

“You’re not that big. I’ve had bigger.” You lied, trying to sound confident.

He narrowed his eyes and felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to fuck you. “That so? Well then you should have no problem taking me,” he taunted.

You were nervous about how it would hurt but you put on a brave face. You spread your legs wider and gave him doe eyes as an invitation to go ahead.

His bigger body hovered over your small frame as he positioned his cock at your entrance. He teased your folds and your opening, making you buck your hips up in an effort to get him inside of you. His cockhead breached into your hole and you gasped in unison. He was so thick and girthy, the stretch against your walls was one you’ve never experienced this intensely.

He sank in deeper, thrusting a little to help break it in. You winced and moaned but stayed relaxed and let him keep going. He finally bottomed out. Then pulled back and started thrusting.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack. The drag against your walls and the pressure his dick provided on your cervix made you nearly see stars, clouding your vision in a bit of a haze.

“Mmmm!! ‘s so good!” You slurred drunkenly, choking on your moans and cries.

He grunted and moaned above you, keeping a steady rhythm as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Holy shit” he gritted between his teeth, slightly baring them at you while he got caught up in the passion. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head slumped down, hanging from between his shoulders. “You’re gonna make me cum too quick” he panted.

You moaned in response, loving how you were breaking him. He cupped both your tits and gave them a squeeze, edging both of you on more.

“More!! Please!” You didn’t really know what you were asking for but he seemed to know right away.

He pulled out quickly and swiftly flipped you over, pulling you from the hips to scooch your ass up against him. He entered you again easily and plunged all the way in making you moan loudly.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he grunted as he then started a fast and hard pace, increasing it from the previous pace.

His dick was now reaching so far up into you and satisfying all your sweet spots. He was fucking into you like a bunny in heat, hiking up one of his legs and placing his foot on the table to have a better grasp on you and a better angle to fuck you.

“Fuckkkk!” You screamed, getting your cervix pounding into over and over again. You felt your walls convulsing around him and knew you were getting close.

He pushed your head down into the table, his enormous hand pretty much engulfing the entire size of your head. Your hair fell around your face and was scattered in a complete mess.

“Shit baby, you’re close, huh?” He groaned.

“Yesss! Don’t fucking stop!” You begged and whimpered.

And then you felt your coil snap. The waves of sweet release spread throughout your whole body. Your pussy’s grip on his dick tightened, making him cum right after you.

“Nghh- gonna fill you up” he moaned while still bringing your ass back to meet his hips, slowing down and milking out both your orgasms. His hot cum spurted into your womb, filling you up just like he said.

He finally stopped his slow thrusts and pulled out gently making you whine as you felt some of his cum seep out.

He stepped back to admire his work, taking a mental screenshot of your cream pied cunt. He used his thumb to gather what had dripped and pushed it back into you.

“Your pussy looks best with my cum in it,” he admired.

You rolled over to your side, completely exhausted. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to lay with you now.

He got your message by the look in your face. “I’m sorry baby but I gotta leave now. As much as I’d rather be stuffed inside you, I gotta get back to my place before my-“ he paused, looking physically pained, “before my family gets back home.”

Of course, you thought to yourself, how the fuck could you forget? Guiltiness flooded your heart, making it physically ache for his wife and kids. You felt terrible. You never liked a homewrecker and now you were a complete hypocrite and felt like a whore.

“Yes, o-of course… I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.

He weakly smiled as a response, pain still in his eyes as the post-nut clarity washed over him and guiltiness attacked his conscious as well.

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” And with that he left your hut.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @anemonelovesfiction @property-of-neteyam @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @fluorynn @zafrinaxyz @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @inolaphoenix @ladykat73 (if you wanna be added or removed, just lmk!)

[dreamwritersworld]

You can’t catch me now

y/n was Jake’s eldest daughter, his warrior. He made sure she was strong and walked her every step with power. No one would be able to touch her if she was trained, so that’s exactly what he did..

*

Those innocent eyes and childlike behavior stopped when he played the games with her, played the games she enjoyed to do with her siblings…he scared her.

“Hide!”

Y/n ran giggling, excitement running through her. She had found a bush to hide in, taking deep breaths to catch her breath. Her smiled remained, excitedly waiting for her father to past by her figuring he’d never find her…until he did..

“Y/n! You can’t take breaks! You hear me? No breaks! You’re supposed to run, do you know what will happen if people find you like this? They’ll eat you up and spit you right out! This isn’t a game!”

Jake had shook her back and forth ensuring that she would listen to his raised voice

“I thought we were playing dad-“

“No dad! Just sir! You can’t play with your life in the forest! You’re not taking any chances.”

Y/n’s tears began to fill her eyes as she turned away, waiting to play the game again..

“Hide!”

This time she ran, farther than she ever had. It wasn’t excitement that kept her going, she gave up on that when she realized it would get her nowhere. Y/n survived on fear.

She could hear her father catching up to her, climbing up the trees and jumping from one to another without making a noise became a skill she would perfect, something Jake never could.

somehow, in some way…Jake would always catch her. He cheated her, gambled the game knowing he’d always win. Jake would track her and yell at her when she was caught…he kept her adrenaline high.

*

However he didn’t treat the rest of his two daughters the same, he was kinder…sweeter…gentler. It was obvious to everyone that no matter how much training Y/n did, Neteyam was his star. He had set her up to fail every time she went against him. Maybe it had been his old mindset that got ahead of him, believing that men like Neteyem should be able to succeed more.

In the forest there was one deadly game of them all…Jake threw Y/n in it. Neytiri was furious, she smiled with tears in her eyes..struggling to maintain herself in front of the crowd as she watched Y/n prepare for the battle. She yanked Jake to the side and that’s where they argued in hushed voices away from the crowd..

“Get her out Jake. This is not worth it-“

“She is proving herself, she is second highest in her division compared to Neteyam-“

“He wouldn’t be able to survive either! We do not play with Eywa’s animals, and we do not play with our children’s lives either!”

“Don’t baby her! My daughter has more to her than just second place, she has something to prove-“

“To who? To you? She’s terrified! I can see it on her face!”

“she’s fine, and if she gets hurt? She’ll get right back up.”

Neytiri hissed, walking away showing her anger right to Jake..she didn’t fear him, she feared what he would do to their children…what he is doing to them.

The crowd called out for the fight, everyone watched Y/n from the cliff…her chest was heaving heavily and adrenaline ran through her…she was scared. Y/n was going against the biggest animal in the forest , all by herself. She was angry…angry that her dad put her in this situation…angry that no one fought for her…angry that they were all watching.

The angtsìk looked at her with the most challenging look..all she wanted to do was look away in search for the best place to run away.

The fighting went on for awhile and the crowds of the people were higher than ever…Y/n’s body was getting weak with each step she took..the last hit was irresistible as the animal threw her across the ground.

There’s blood on the side of the the mountain..

That’s when the panic set in, realizing their young warrior wasn’t getting up..

“Get her! Get my daughter now!”

Soldiers tasseled the animal as Neytiri and Jake swooped down to pick up their child. Jake had no shame in the way he roughly picked her up.

Y/n’s eyes opened up to her grandmother cleaning up her wounds..

“You need to take care of yourself Y/n-“

“I didn’t ask for that! I didn’t ask for-“

Whimpers escaped her mouth as the stitches pierced her skin..

“…I didn’t ask for that grandmother..I didn’t..”

Weakness took over Y/n’s body due to all the pain and she had fainted..

*

There’s writing all over the wall..

“Y/n! Stop doing that!”

“I want materials to write in like the other kids..Like Neteyam..”

“You don’t deserve it! You didn’t win-“

“So then I get to write on the wall. It won’t hurt anyone-“

“Stop it.”

Jake yanked Y/n’s crayons from her hands roughly, all y/n did was cry and throw a tantrum..poor child was set to fail in her division with Neteyam and yet he yelled at her.

*

“Y/n? Oh thank Eywa!”

Neytiri grasped Y/n as though it was her last, y/n reciprocated..knowing it’d be their last..

“Where’s father?”

I got up eagerly, ready to finally retaliate harder than ever…he signed me up for the fight moments before, I wasn’t even ready.

“He’s in-“

“You! You signed me up for that fight! Knowing I would never make it! How could you?”

“You needed to prove yourself to the clan! Show you were strong! You did good, you lasted awhile. We’re not arguing about this Y/n, I’m not like you.”

“No, you’re not Jake. And im not like you, Thank Eywa! As if I would ever want to be you.”

I made sure to make my words hurt and I looked him right in the eye, no hesitation in my voice.

“How dare you? I’m tired of this behavior, you act as though I do nothing for you. You are succeeding at everything because of me, and I could take away all the praise the people give you in a second!”

“Go ahead! As if I need their opinion! I know I sure as hell don’t need yours!”

“Jake! Y/n stop-“ mother had interrupted but her low voice, that small voice always failed to interrupt our arguments..

“You always say I need to train! I need to do more and maybe I’ll be able to lead the clan but you make promises that you don’t keep!”

“Because you need to be ready for whatever is to come!”

“You always say that and nothing ever happens!”

“Yeah! Nothing happens and you stay safe!”

Jake banged his hand on whatever was near him making sure Y/n heard him.

“Safe from what? From you? Yea that’s the best solution for me, because you make me sick.”

I walked away eager and Jake followed…he couldn’t even let me win in anything. It was almost as though the shadow of us were dancing.

“You think that’s ok to say to me? I am your father!-“

“Since when? Huh? I stopped calling you that a long time ago Jake. Just leave me alone. I hate you!”

For once tears fell from my eyes, pain from years of suffering fell…I never felt so vulnerable. All it took was a moment closer to death and knowing my father put me to it.

“What? Now you’re crying? Don’t cry! Own that, own what you just said! Now!”

Jake got closer yelling in my face, pushing me back and forth. In that moment I decided I wasn’t going to retreat and back away like I usually did as a kid..he knew how to push my buttons and I didn’t care to hold back anymore.

“I hate you. You’re the most disgusting person I’ve ever known. And to think you’re my father? You’re OUR father?..”

Both Y/n and Jake glanced at the three siblings who had just walked into the hut..there was no hiding how much pity they had for Y/n.

“…you think we want this? A soldier for a dad? As if. Life isn’t something to win! You want me out at war? You want me going against the whole world? So be it. Just know that if I burn, you burn with me.”

That was the last thing Y/n said to Jake and he never wanted anything more than to just correct her. Even when she was so frustrated, she always knew where to hit.

For once he felt..the bitter taste of my fury and all of the messes he made

Jake knew Y/n wasn’t coming home that night..but he wasn’t going to search for her, he knew she’d come on her own. So Jake had ordered the rest of the kids to go to bed while he pasted back and forth waiting for Y/n.

“Jake..? She still hasn’t come home, you have to search for her. You pushed her out..you pushed our daughter away.”

“don’t blame me Neytiri please, you know all I’ve ever wanted was the best for her.”

“Yet you don’t push the others like you push her. you didn’t train the other two girls like you do her, because you saw what was becoming of her. she won’t allow you to change her anymore Jake. That’s what scares you, so you keep tempting her…and now my daughter won’t come home. So go and find her!”

Jake listened, he searched for her alone in the dark..and there was no trace of her. That’s when he began panicking..crying to the winds of nothing.

His daughter was gone. The mocking jay as he would call her, she had the voice of a siren..and she was able to mimic anything that was given to her. She moved as though she was flying, gentle and silent. Y/n was the reminder that he had failed as a father, and she let him know..

Little did he know Y/n was watching him from the trees…she was no longer mad, just felt empty. She gave up on Jake a long time ago, but if he claimed he wanted her to be safe…why put her through such dangerous situations?..

you’ll see my face in every place but you can’t catch me now..

The next morning Jake had sent out the clan for Y/n..she was nowhere to be found. Far too skilled to be seen and far too smart to let them find her.

Y/n had resided in the restricted areas, she learned to survive on her own as the weeks passed. She knew about the clan and her family grieving her absence..but what could she do? Return?..Y/n made her choice and she wasn’t one to change it immediately.

Bet you’d never thought I’d do it. Thought it’d go over my head..

She spent her days hunting and killing any avatars she had seen. There was times where she would catch her siblings walking around aimlessly with no care in the world…she wished so dearly to go back to that part of her.

This was one of those times, Y/n stared down the trees, watching her siblings go deeper into the unknown parts of the forest..

Trees hid her as they hung. They were coming to her tree closer and closer, until she heard cracking that was in no way theirs. When she leaped onto the next avatars were beneath her, her arrow remained steady.

She was frustrated watching her siblings wait for their father to save them, so she aimed her bow and shot three men, as she called out a calling mimicking her mother knowing they’d realize quick enough to run. Y/n aimed a tassel around another man’s neck, hanging him up the tree and shooting another on the way out.

She was doing just fine until she was left out in the open, coming face to face with Quaritch and a couple of frustrated soldiers. He had yanked her hair back and forth, urging her to call for her father.

“Wow what a devil your father made of you! You just think you can waltz in here and ruin my plan! Call out for him and your siblings now-“

Soldiers fall and fire guns as arrows began flying around once again, Neytiri’s calling whistle out for her.

Quaritch however didn’t give up, he continued to hold up the gun against her head. The men surrounded him shooting in nearby trees.

“Come on out! Come by the hanging tree since your daughter wants to hang up our soldiers! Come on Jake! I’ll put a bullet right through her!”

Jake froze…she was the daughter he believed was gone because she left..

All those time he’d catch a footstep in the mud that looked all too familiar or those times he believed that he saw her in between the trees…that was all her.

“Let go of me!”

A hiss louder than before was released, representing how grown and mature Y/n had become as an individual. Y/n mustered the strength to flip the both of them over, chaos began once again as the solider panicked shooting the trees. Jake shot both solider while Neyitiri finished them.

They both watched Y/n murder Quaritch. Neytiri let out a cry as she went to stop her, worrying far too much that her baby had changed.

He couldn’t catch her now. Jake knew that and he had to sit in it even longer, his daughter would never treat him as an equal. She came like a storm, into his mind when he had tried so hard to forget her. For once, Y/n was higher than the hopes of failure Jake always brought down on her.

“My daughter! My daughter oh..”

Neytiri sobbed into the bloody body of Y/n, she didn’t pull away from her mothers hug. Instead she embraced it, her mother was the only one who grounded her.

“Mother..im sorry..im so sorry.”

Neytiri was the only one parent Y/n felt the need to apologize to, why should she ever feel the need to even speak to Jake again?..her mother who yes, at times failed to defend her daughter properly but still did her best. On the late nights Y/n came home Neytiri would sneak away to greet and relax her tired out body. So for Y/n, being away was the hardest part..

“y-y/n? Where have you been?”

Her hand had went up immediately pausing Jake’s questions and bothering. She was willing to tell him exactly what he needed to hear before he ever got anything again.

“I never asked for anything to happen to me back at home. I never asked to be your stupid mockingjay. I never asked to play your dumb games. I just wanted to be a good daughter…and yet you threw me away! Like I was nothing.

“Y/n..I’m sorry. I never meant to-“

“But you did! You did Jake! And I’m sorry but I can’t find it in my heart to ever forgive you, I refuse to.”

“y/n…noo”

Jake’s tears of yearning for his eldest daughter built up even more and they had spilt out.

“I mean it Y/n. You can come home, everything is ready for you..just how you left it. Come home for you mother sake..please.”

The pair stared at each other and that moment confirmed it. Jake had finally looked into the eyes of his true creation, someone to never be broken and someone forever be loyal to. Y/n stayed there for awhile before speaking

“..I’ll go back. But mark my words…this is not for you, this decision is for my mother.”

Jake took that answer and eagerly cleaned himself up before taking them to return back home…that excitement surprised Y/n..maybe for once things will change.

!💕!

THIS IS JUST ONE PART! IM SORRY I JUST REALLY NEEDED TO POST SO I DID THIS!!! BYE LOVE YOU

[normspellsman]

A Lesson in Pinky Promises

part one | part two (wip)

pairing: jake sully x daughter!reader

genre: angst to fluff & comfort (from jake to reader)

word count: 3.3k+

warning(s): mentions of reader being bullied for looks – reader has 5 fingers, kids being mean, physical + verbal harassment, reader being sad, reader feeling like she doesn’t fit in, jake calling reader babygirl (cuteness overload fr), mentions of self inflicted injuries, mentions of children hurting you, reader looks up to jake + feels unworthy of being the heir of the olo’eyktan title, jake being angry, cursing, both jake + reader crying, & reader having self-loathing thoughts / being mean to herself

request details: here!

taglist: @aonungsmate @optimisticblazetrash @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @amortencjja @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @liyahsocorro @arminsgfloll @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bigdikzaddy @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez

word bank: sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), ‘evenge — girl, sa’nok — mother, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, toruk — last shadow; large winged creature jake rode in the first film, syulang — flower, & ‘angtsìk — hammerhead titanothere

note: the reader is the eldest child of jake in this fic & is around 11-12 years old. set wayyy before the events of atwow. there will be a part 2 to this since someone requested something similar to this but w/ lo’ak & i couldn’t pass up the opportunity 🤭. be on the lookout for part 2 <3

You wished that you were more like your Father.

Your Father held this kind of confidence wherever he went. You guessed being Olo’eyktan would do that to you over time. He took every insult and objection to his rule with stride. You wanted to be like him one day, especially since you were the next in line for his position when he decided it was time for him to step down.

But it was hard. Really hard. The children around your age loved teasing you for your ten fingers and ten toes. They often pulled at your pinky and tried to pry it from your hand, giggling at how it looked and your reaction to it, hissing in pain as they basically almost dislocated the finger. They also reached out towards your hairy eyebrows, plucking at them to observe the strange hair further. Many had also called you demon or fake due to your mixed heritage. They loved making your life hell and took joy in hurting your feelings with their harsh words. Of course they never dared to do anything like that around your parents or siblings, deciding to do it whenever you were alone or training.

You felt insecure about your five fingers, often trying to hide it or make it look more like the other four fingered hands of your fellow acquaintances. You’ve injured yourself a couple of times trying to hide your pinky, bruising it or spraining it multiple times. You never meant to hurt yourself but it always happened whenever you did it. You just wished you looked more like the children your age than your Father.

You absolutely loved your Father and looked up to him so much. But it was hard looking like him when his past kind had caused so much pain and suffering to your Mothers people. It was a constant reminder that you had to work twice as hard as compared to your younger brother, Neteyam, to get the acceptance of The People. They always had their eyes on you, watching your every move, ready to criticize everything you did wrong. Nothing was ever good for them. Not good enough to live up to your Father, to be the next leader of your clan.

You never told your parents about how you felt or what the children your age did, dealing with it yourself. It wasn’t very good that you kept it to yourself but you felt like you had no choice. You didn’t want to worry your parents with what was happening, didn’t want to seem weak in front of them. You wanted to be strong like your Mother and Father, strong heart like those before you. Surely both of your parents experienced more traumatizing things throughout their lifetime than what you were going through. You could handle it yourself.

But, alas, you failed at having it handled.

Hours prior to where you were currently, crying as you cradled yourself with your knees to your chest, was probably one of the worst things you’ve experienced throughout your whole twelve years of life.

The regular group of bullies that teased and hurt you had taken it to the extreme, encircling you as they pushed you around and yelled insults at you, eventually grabbing at whatever body limb they could and punching it with as much strength they could muster. At the end, you were covered in bruises and bloody. You were pretty sure your right pinky was broken, it being stepped on by a kid you sure was named Keno.

You limped all the way to your secret hideout, delaying going home as much as you could. You had the plan of cleaning and patching yourself up with the limited supplies you had stashed away before going home late into the night. You were probably going to stay hidden for another hour or so, way past when you’re supposed to be home and were probably going to do that for the next couple of days before you healed completely. You didn’t need either of your parents to fret after your every move if they found out.

What you didn’t know was that your Father had seen you rush out into the thick foliage of the forest, calling out your name, which you didn’t hear. So, he followed you.

Jake had tried his best to stay quiet, expertly stepping over rogue twigs and sticks that were strewn across the forest floor. He kept his breathing steady as he urged forward, staying far enough behind you so that your enhanced senses couldn’t sense his presence but close enough to still see where you were going. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be following you, but his Father instincts were telling him to follow after you. There was something clawing at Jake that told him you were not okay.

Growing up, you told your Sempul everything. There was nothing that you kept from your Father and he felt his heart swell every time you ran up to him, bouncing with excitement as you hurriedly told him everything about your day or something new you just learned in training. He’d always scoop you up in his arms and tickle your belly before lending a listening ear to you, hanging on to every word you spoke. Jake missed the days where you would come to him and just talk. Recently, your visits had become few and far in between. Of course he acknowledged that you were growing older and needed to keep some things to yourself, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else that was keeping you from reaching out to your Sempul. And he knew that following you to wherever the hell you were going was most likely going to reveal the reason why. At least, he hoped so. He just wanted to help you. You were his little girl and he’d do anything to make sure that you were safe and sound.

You stopped before a small clearing, discreetly checking over your shoulders in paranoia. You knew that no one had seen you rush out to the forest, but still, you needed to make sure of it before continuing on. Once you were satisfied that no one was around, you continued forth.

Jake wasn’t necessarily shocked to say the least when he saw where you were going. He was pretty sure that some kids came out here to do whatever the hell children did, but didn’t suspect you to be one of them. Lo’ak seemed to the one who would.

A few years back, when still dealing with the aftermath of the RDA’s equipment and all the shit they left behind, the clan had decided to leave alone some of their labs or established campsites, marking it as outskirts of the forest where children were not allowed to visit. And you had claimed the closest one to Home Tree. Well, it wasn’t completely yours but you were the one who frequented it the most so you found it suiting to call it your hideout.

The Olo’eyktan shook his head as he watched you open the metal door with a small grunt, walking inside while holding your side in a pained expression that Jake missed as your back faced towards him.

Every inch of your body ached. You were more than certain that multiple bruises covered your azure skin and that scratches from your bullies' pushes and nails littered its expanse. It sucked. Being treated this way by people who you were supposed to lead one day. Feeling like you weren’t enough to become clan leader when the Great Mother deemed it necessary. It all made you feel like perhaps Neteyam was more deserving of the title, albeit him being only eight years old. In your eyes, he was the perfect image of what a true Na’vi should be. Four fingers on each hand and foot, no eyebrows on his brow bones, and he practically oozed confidence and leadership whereas you, you were you. A five-fingered freak who will only ever be seen as outcast, alien, and a monster. Your entire existence was a reminder of what the sky people did to the natives of Pandora. Of what they stole from them. Of the lives they greedily took. How could you be a leader to people who only ever saw you as such? Who didn’t even want you there in the first place?

“Fuck!” You hissed, hot electric pain shooting up your entire body as you attempted to clean the wounds scattered across your skin. It didn’t help that you only had one working hand as well. It hurt too much to move your right hand, your pinky always wanting to follow its fellow fingers in whatever movement you did. So, you opted to just use your left for addressing your wounds, which was a much harder task than you thought.

Fucking pathetic, you thought, getting angry at yourself. You couldn’t take one little beating without crying and groaning in pain. What kind of future leader are you? You’re supposed to be strong. Take beatings in stride.

You were abruptly pulled from your self-loathing thoughts with a loud cough, making you freeze in your spot. As your eyes slowly traveled to your Fathers figure in the doorway of the metal infrastructure, you knew that you were fucked. Like, really fucked.

Anxiety exploded within your chest, causing you to gulp, trying to swallow it down so you didn’t seem weak in front of your seemingly impenetrable Father. He was everything you wanted to be. Everything you couldn’t be.

“What is this?” He asks, voice surprisingly calm. He hadn’t been able to properly see your figure when he followed you through the dark forest, not seeing the full extent of your injuries. He didn’t even know that you were injured.

“Uh, nothing, just…got done with sparring and needed to clean myself up,” you responded, eyes never meeting those of Jake’s. You knew better not to. For if you did, you’d spill everything that happened to you and how you felt. You could never lie to your Sempul, which is why you tended to avoid him whenever you got into another scuffle with the other children.

Jake puts his hands on his hips as he stands there, not believing your words. You knew he wouldn’t. Your Father was great at knowing whether or not you were telling the truth, the avoidance of his gaze being one of them. His shadow from the door seemed towering and all consuming as it nearly reached your dangling toes from where you sat atop of a metal table.

“Do not lie to me, ‘evenge,” he grumbled, face scrunched into an unreadable expression. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” He continued, serious concern laced within his voice. Jake didn’t even need to take a handful of steps before he was in front of you, kneeling to match your height.

You refused to speak, eyes looking everywhere except for your Fathers face. You just couldn’t. You needed to be strong, strong heart at this moment. For if you didn’t, you’d feel as if you were too weak for your birthright.

The man in front of you sighed out, moving his head to try to catch your gaze, “Baby girl, please. Tell me what is wrong so Sempu can fix it,” he pleaded. He was so desperate to help you, you could hear it evident in his voice.

You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, tightly screwing them shut to prevent them from spilling out. But, your Father pleaded with you again.

“Please, baby girl. What happened? Why are you hurt?” He softly asked, tears pricking his own waterline as you refused to tell him anything. He felt like he did something wrong for you to not want to tell him what happened. Like he failed at being a Father. Was he not there enough for you? Did he say something to you that made you scared to open up to him? He racked his brain for a million things.

Hearing the crack of emotion within his voice is what persuaded you to break in front of your Father, tears continuously falling down your cheeks as they escaped from the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jake cooed, bringing you into his arms, now fully seated on the cold floor as he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, gently running a hand through your hair in hopes to calm you down. Sobs racked your body and Jake felt helpless. He wanted to help you so badly but he couldn’t do anything without knowing the reason you were upset. It broke him to see his little girl like this.

“It’s okay, princess. Whatever it is, I swear Sempu won’t be mad. I just want to make it better,” he whispered, gently and slowly rocking from side to side, something he did frequently when you were a toddler and had trouble falling asleep. It never failed to make you sleepy and passed out in his arms when you were smaller.

Eventually, you caved and told him everything. How mean the other kids are. How they like to pull and tug at your pinky. How they routinely pick at you and beat you. How they beat you an hour prior and probably severely hurt you. How they love calling you colorful names. How small and insignificant they made you feel. You told him how inadequate you felt as the heir to his title. How much of a freak you were and how the People deserve a true leader, someone like Neteyam. How it felt like the whole world was on your shoulders. You let it all out. And by the end, you ran out of tears to cry and your body stopped shaking, hiccups escaping past your lips as you laid there wrapped up in your Fathers arms.

Jake listened as you cried and sobbed out how you felt and what was going on. How you felt like you had to hide what was happening in order to seem strong and worthy of being a leader. How you wanted to be strong like him and Neytiri. How you felt like you needed to deal with all of this on your own in order to feel like you deserved the title of heir to the Olo’eyktan throne. The more you spoke, the more Jake felt his heart break into two. He felt awful for not noticing how you were struggling. He was your Dad, he was supposed to know when you weren’t feeling well and coke comforted you. But instead, he became too consumed with his duties to the clan and neglected you in the process.

“Oh, my little star, I am so sorry,” Jake utters, tears falling down his face as he finally got you to break and bare your troubled spirit to him. He felt saddened at how you felt but angry towards the children who relentlessly teased you about your differences.

“You are not a freak or a monster. You are my daughter. A product of your Sa’nok and I’s love. You are a part of me as you are your Mother. You are a result of a story that will forever be known by the people of Pandora. You are the new hope for the future. You are every part Na’vi as the rest of your siblings. You are the fruit of those who came before you and proof that you are meant to be here, to be the next leader of your people,” he gently said, tone firm and serious. He meant every word that he said.

“Your spirit is strong, so is your heart. Strong heart,” he added, making you pull away from the safety and comfort of his neck to face him. You’d never thought you’d ever hear those two words come from his mouth. You never thought you were worthy enough to bare those words on your shoulders like your Mother and Father did. You felt comforted by his words, validated by them.

“I need you to promise me that you will tell me the next time you ever feel this way again, baby girl,” he commented, bringing up one of his hands as he extended his last finger and balled the rest up into a fist, “Pinky swear it.”.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, not knowing what it meant or what you were supposed to do. “A what?” You questioned, voice hoarse from all the sobbing you did.

“A pinky promise,” Jake answered, a small smile on his face, “It’s something humans did back on Earth. They did it to make promises together and ensure that no one breaks it.”.

You nodded in understanding, bringing out your non-injured pinky and wrapping it around your Father’s, giggling as he slightly tugged your intertwined fingers to make sure that the promise you made him was stable and unbreakable.

“You cannot break this promise, ‘evenge, or there will be consequences,” Jake commented, tone mixed with playfulness and seriousness.

“What will happen if I break it, Sempu?” You asked, slight worry laced within your voice. Your Mother always warned you to stay away from tawtute things, or things that were foreign in general. So Jake introducing something human to you made you nervous. A million things ran through your head as to what could happen to you if you broke the promise you just made with your Father, temporarily distracting you from your chaotic thoughts.

Jake smirked, the tip of his fangs poking out from his lips and catching on the flesh of the bottom one. “If you break the greatest oath there is, the pinky promise, then the great toruk will come down and snatch you up!” He exclaimed, head going in between your neck and shoulder to blow raspberries into your jugular, causing you to shriek out a giggle.

Your feeble attempts at trying to push away your Father from your sensitive neck were all for nought, shrieky giggles escaping your lips as he continued his attack on your neck as he brought up his free hand to tickle the side of your stomach, his other one still intertwined with your pinky.

“Okay! Okay!” You panted, finally pushing your Father from your poor neck, “I won’t ever break our pinky promise!”.

Jake laughed at your reaction, smiling as he brought up your still connected pinkies, “Good, I’d hate to lose you to the mighty toruk.”.

You giggled out in response as well, wiggled your small finger from your Fathers much larger and stronger one, placing it back into your lap. You had a big smile on your face, matching the one of your Fathers as he lovingly gazed down at you.

The relaxed atmosphere didn’t last for long though, your face dropping once the painful throbbing in your body returned. You forgot about the events that happened hours prior, your Father being a great distraction. But nothing sweet lasts forever.

Jake seemed to catch onto your now saddened mood, frowning along with you. He hated seeing you in pain, whether that be physically or mentally. He hated it.

“Want me to help you clean up, syulang?” He softly asked, pushing some of your braids away from your dropped face, hooking two of his fingers underneath your chin so you looked up at him.

You only nodded in response, wrapping your arms around the back of your Fathers neck before placing your head on his shoulder, seeking his warmth as comfort. Your body was no longer running on adrenaline and all of your injuries seemed to hit you like an ‘angtsìk. Pain and sleepiness was the only thing you were able to feel in the moment, letting out a little yawn against your Fathers azure skin.

“Okay, baby girl,” he whispered, putting one of his hands behind your head as he began to sit up, “I got you. Just sleep, okay? Sempu’s got you.”.

And sleep you did. You soundly slept as Jake quietly and gently cleaned the blood and dirt off your skin, promising to deal with the children that did this to you. No one would hurt his little girl and get away with it. He’d personally see to it that they won’t.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Five

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, size difference/kink, praise kink, breeding kink, alcohol consumption, tattooing, blood, sexual tension, masturbation, fingering, p in v, mating/bonding, mentions of knotting, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 11.3k (i know i said it wouldn't be long, i'm so sorry i literally do not have an excuse)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the final chapter of this series, guys. Thanks for coming along for the journey! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closed when the first rays of sunshine beamed through the marui pod, shining on your face – waking you up.

----

The heavy, quick thump of your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the waves that crash onto the shore outside your marui. Whilst the first rays of sunlight shine on your face, heating it up and making your eyelids flutter. Smacking your dry tongue against the roof of your mouth, the need for water becomes exigent.

You try to swallow whatever saliva you could pool in your cheeks, but it’s not nearly enough to clear the dryness of your throat. Looking to your left, you see Ralak sleeping soundly, head propped up on his makeshift bedhead with a hand resting on your inner thigh. He fell asleep mid-checking on you, wooziness of the fermented fruit getting the best of him.

As you sit up slowly, the soreness of your pelvis becomes undeniable. You take your time scooting back, leaning into the headboard as you catch your breath. Everything feels delayed, like pandora is spinning at an even slower pace. And that’s when the headache hits. Like you had just gotten in the middle of herd of stampeding 'angtsìk (hammerhead titanotheres).

You groan, ball of your palm rubbing a tight circle into your pulsing temple. A gust of wind blows the flap of your marui open, prickling your skin from the coolness of it. You feel your nipples harden into peaks on your chest, a hand quickly moving to cover them.

Oh.

Ralak had taken your iknimaya top off sometime during your sleep and hung it by the entrance of your marui to dry. It’s blood red leaves make a rustling noise as the draught of wind breezes through them, little rays of sunlight shining through the slivers of space.

Gently removing his hand from your thigh, you get out of the bed and make your way over to the swaying top. There’s a wobble in your step, dizziness swirling in your head making it hard to walk straight. When you finally get your hands on the top, you contemplate whether you should even put it on or not.

“As much as I love seeing you with nothing on...” A raspy voice startles you as two large hands slide down the sides of your waist, “...I love the way you look in that.” Ralak nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose into the suppleness of your skin. “So, take care of it.” He mumbles, pressing his warm body against you. “And if you are cold... come back to bed.”

Is this my Ralak? You think, turning around to confirm if this talkative man is indeed your mate.

And that’s when you see that inebriated stare – the same gaze he had during his flashback a little over a week ago. Except, this time there’s a smug look to his face, corner of his lip curling upwards into a smirk. When you inspect a little further, you see the darkness under his eyes and the dampness of his hair.

“Lak. How long did you sleep? Are you–” You lean in to get a whiff of him, only to regret it a second later. “Eywa.” You mumble, looking at the shelf behind him to see the empty bottle of pxir. “Did you finish that last night? By yourself?”

“Mmm. Perhaps.” He hums, curving his back to snuzzle into your neck once more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in close.

“I see. So, it takes a bottle of pxir to get you to talk, hm? What else does a bottle of pxir do to you?” You tease, hand smoothing over his morning bulge, hard as rock and sheathed.

“Ah, tanhì. I am not that drunk.” He reaches behind you to retrieve the top. “...I would not do that before you are healed.” He pulls away from you, “I hurt you last night.” His voice falters as he slips the top over your head, securing the back with a quick knot.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, purse your lips and shake your head. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Kept drinking? Ralak. I’m fine. Really.” You cup his cheek, trying to show him the sincerity in your eyes.

“I gave your father my word.” He utters, breaking eye contact.

Brows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try look him in the eye. “Your word?”

He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To never let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, you feel those butterflies in your stomach, fluttering away like they did the first day you laid eyes on this man. It’s sweet. Seeing such a big, strong man feel this way over a little blood. Because that’s what it was – just a little blood. Surely, other na’vi experience something similar during their first time, too. You move your hand to cover your mouth, feeling a scoff making its way up your throat.

“Pfft. So that’s what you two were talking about?” You ask with raised brows, and when they pinch together you let out a chuckle. “You were trying to fuck me, not kill me Lak.” You jester, but he didn’t find it as funny as you did, glaring down at you with a deadpan expression.

“Look, I wanted it. I still want it.” You grip his jawbone, pulling him in to look at you in the eye. “And I feel fine now.” You tell a white lie, hoping to make this gentle giant feel better.

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh. “No. You do not. You still smell... wounded.” He utters the last word with a wince. “And I have been checking.”

Nothing gets past this man. Not when he has mastered the ability to tune into his body and all his senses. You gnaw on your bottom lip, little pointed canines nicking the thin flesh. The metallic taste of blood floods your tongue, setting off a spark in your brain. You scan his bare, sinewy torso and catch sight of his shoulder. Taking a quick breath in, you understand what he means by a ‘wounded’ scent.

“Well, I hurt you too. So, we’re even. Okay?” You insist, hand grazing over the scabbed-up bite mark on his shoulder.

He cocks his brow and scoffs, quickly glancing at the dark red indentations before looking back down at you like you just told the joke of the century. “That little scratch?”

Your drop your hand from his jaw and straighten your smile, mirroring his blank expression from earlier. Ralak and his word infamous word ‘scratch’. And most importantly, why didn’t he find your actual joke funny? Maybe you should make the best of this situation, then. Your eyes become beady, peering at him with limited vision.

“Fine. You hurt me.” You state, shrugging your shoulders a bit. His brows exchange a peck, ears twitching and jaw clenching. Hearing the confirmatory words made his heart sink. “But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”

You walk behind him towards the shelf of different sized and coloured bottles – some dusty, some not – and grab the fullest one. When you spin around, he has the guiltiest expression on his face, prepared to do anything to remedy the situation. It almost makes you want to stop with your little scheme and cradle him close into your bosom until he knows it’s okay. But not after his little scoff.

“My tattoo.” You sing, voiced feigned with innocence. 

He exhales a sigh, smile slowly creeping up on his face once he’s figured you out. “Alright, little one.” He chuckles, stretching over you to grab the drinking bowl from the top shelf – far out your reach. He plunks it into your hand and takes the bottle from your grasp, popping it open with his back-teeth. With a few glugs your cup is full, prompting him to nudge it to your lips.

“You drink. I get everything ready.” He says before turning his heel to walk out of the marui pod. As he’s lifting the flap to the door, he projects his voice, “It will help with your head.”

It feels like an eternity since Ralak left, leaving you with nothing but you and this drink. You rotate the cup, whirling the iridescent colours of the pxir. It smells much better than the bottle you shared last night, and tastes better too.

It’s sweeter, with a slight bitter aftertaste. You knock it back as if it were a medicinal concoction that your grandmother gave to you, wincing as the burn trails down your throat. You let out an ah and lay back into the cot, waiting for Ralak’s return. It’s been almost an hour now, and yet –

Still no Ralak.

You get up with a huff, pacing around the marui as you fidget with your thumbs. The nerves are setting in knowing that you’re about to get your first tattoo. But what makes it worse is where you’re getting this damn tattoo. Anxious – and thirsty – you pour yourself another cup, downing it in one go. Then another. And another.

At this point, it’s got no aftertaste at all. Just pure sweetness.

Once you swallow and go to put the cup down for good, you see Ralak standing by the marui door, hands above his head holding onto the stilt. It’s as if he were there watching you, waiting patiently for you to become aware his presence.

Unclothed and exposed right in front of your eyes.

The same drunken eyes peer back at you, ocean blue with a glint of gold, slightly lidded and glazed with something deeper than just lust. He stares at you longingly, wet hair plastered to his chest, right between his erect nipples. The more your gaze trails down his body, the more you realise how strong this man really is.

Each dip and ridge of his muscular physique is on full display, crossed ribs protruding from the stretched position he’s assuming. It’s like he’s posing like this just to... tease you. Because when you wonder down a little further, counting the stripes of that tattoo, he clears his throat. Loud. As if to say, ‘eyes up here’. 

No sort of grating noise could avert your gaze from this. His cock.

Its thick. Veiny. So heavy that it hangs down, resting against his thigh. His balls stay firm underneath it, sides of them barely peeking out around his girth. His head is barely sheathed, just the tip poking out – glistening with a tiny bead of precum. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe.

“See something you like?” His voice is deep and gruff, hands falling from the stilt to his sides.

“Mmm. Perhaps.” You repeat his words from earlier in a similar tone of voice.

“Ah.” He says with a slight smirk, bending down to reach for the small woven basket. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” You hum, smile growing wider as he approaches you.

At this point, you’re all woozy in the head – bubbly yet heavy. Your shoulders bow, weight of your body increasing as the minutes pass. And soon your eyes are so lidded that you can barely see the man in front of you. Letting out a slow breath, you blink lethargically, leaning in to see what’s in the basket.

“Been a good girl for me, I see.” Ralak husks, observing your less than sober state.

“Only because you took so long.” You retort, hand darting to grab onto his bicep for support.

Hand missing his arm entirely, you lose your balance and start stumbling towards the basket. He catches you, body slumping into his as he steadies you. He takes a quick glance over to the half empty bottle on the shelf, before looking back down at you with wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Well, my little rou tanhi [drunk freckle/star]. I had to hunt for squid, didn’t I?” He says, dipping his hand into the basket to retrieve the squids’ ink sac. 

“That’s – that’s what you’re putting inside my skin?” You hiccup, examining the black, blubbery sac. It looks like a vein, with a more bulbous end.

Ralak nods as he moves quickly, setting up the area as best and clean as he can. He pulls out two low stools from the corner of his marui. Laying a thin cloth over one stool, he carefully places the delicate ink sac on it, reaching back into the basket to retrieve the other items.

Sitting on the other stool, he pulls out a bowl, blackened by the ink from his own tattoo, and a wooden tool. It’s lengthy, with the bone-white tooth of a skimwing lodged into it. Their teeth are needle-like, piercing the skin with ease and precision. Using the tooth, he pierces the ink sac and pours all the contents into the stained bowl.

“Where?” Ralak asks nonchalantly, taking out a similar tool, without the pointed end.

You close the distance between you two, resting a hand on his shoulder and pushing your crotch into his face. His head snaps up, eyes directly in front of... you. Your exposed skin. Your soft folds, touching one another to hide your clit. His eyes widen a bit, gaze coming to a standstill to take it all in.

“See something you like?” You giggle, breaking him out of his trance.

He swallows thickly, eyelids fluttering as he tries to peel his eyes away from such a... delectable sight. They trail up your body, lingering at your crimson-coloured top, before landing on your downward gaze. He cocks a brow inquisitively, quickly glancing back down to your bare pelvis before locking eyes with you once more.

Ralak places a gentle hand on your lower abdomen, “Here?”

You smile, nodding your head slowly. “Just like yours.” You say quietly, hand momentarily lifting from his shoulder to tie his hair into a loose, messy bun. “Exactly... like yours.”

It’s the way you said the words that sent a shiver down his spine. He tries to fight the curl of his lips, denying himself the pleasure from you wanting a tattoo just like his. There’s something about you with a matching tattoo that makes him feel loved, special – horny.

“Are you sure, tanhì?” He asks through a low, steady voice, peering up at you achingly.

“Yes. It is special to me.” You gulp, nodding slightly. “To us. To mark the beginning of our life together.”

He gives you a firm nod, dropping his head to smile his growing, beaming smile. Hand falling from your abdomen, he fetches a small cloth and a jelly-like substance from the basket. Your stomach tenses when he smears the cold substance on your skin, rubbing it in until it evaporates.

 After cleaning the area, he readies himself with the pointed tool, dipping the needle-like tooth into the bowl of ink. Barely grazing the skin, he traces out the design of the tattoo on your skin, providing himself with a pattern to tattoo with precision. That alone hurt.

“Wait. I-I need more.” You say quickly, voice laced with anxiety.

Ralak takes a glimpse at the nearly empty bottle on the shelf and continues with his task. “Give it more time.” He mutters, dipping the pointed-tip of the tooth into the ink, positioning it carefully over the pattern.

Tip of the needle hovering a millimetre away from your deep blue skin, he waits patiently for your body to tell him to start. After a few moments, he senses you relaxing, taking it at his cue to start the process. With the end of the blunt tool, he taps the end of the pointed tool, penetrating your top of skin with the tooth.

Ralak’s gazes snaps up to yours as soon as he removes the needle, “hurts?”

The sting is barely noticeable, feeling more like heat than pain. You shake your head with a wobbly smile and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He continues with the tattoo, piercing your skin continuously until your little nails sink so deep into his skin it draws a little blood.

“Sorry.” You utter out a strained apology, realizing you’ve practically mutilated both shoulders now.

He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pricks you once more, gently blowing on your reddened skin. The cool air helps a bit, but at this point, it’s welted and raised – stained with a sheer layer of blood. He’s only just finished one of the 6 stripes on the left side of your navel, and the first eclipse is already starting. Resting your free hand on your hip, you take a few deliberate breaths, doing your best to slow your galloping heart.

It’s such an intimate, overwhelming experience.

“A break? With some more pxir, yes?” He suggests, already putting down the tattooing tool.

“Yes... please.” You groan with trembling lungs, legs going all wobbly from how long you’ve been standing.

You go to lay down on the cot, spreading your legs just enough for him to see. He tries his best not to look, immediately dropping his head and fixating his gaze onto his darkened fingertips. But with a little, filthy moan of ‘pain’, his gaze flies up, landing right where you want it to.

Legs spreading a little more, he becomes mesmerized by the little show you’re putting on for him. He stares through lidded eyes that become glossy with greed and desire. Like he wants to pin them down and devour you on the spot. He huffs out a sigh, reluctantly slamming his eyes shut, denying himself the pleasure.

“Tanhì. Do not tempt me. You now have two wounds to heal from.” Ralak utters the words in a low voice.

Oh, right. Choosing to have your tattoo in this particular spot would definitely make things... a bit more painful. You close your legs, accepting your failed attempt to seduce your mate and lie back into the soft pillow. The ceiling is spinning, but not nearly as fast as it should be for this tortuous process to be over with.

Rolling your head to the side, you look at Ralak, whose eyes are still closed. “Lak.” You whisper, prompting him to look at you. “I could use more pxir now.”

Ralak stands up and walks over to the shelf and retrieves the bottle. He pours the rest of it into two cups, one for him and one for you. Handing you your drink, he sits next to you on the bed, resting his hand on your inner thigh. You sit up and take the cup, chugging it before he can even put his to his lips.

“Another.” You mumble, handing him back the empty cup.

“Easy, my paysyul.” He chuckles, pouring you another drink.

----

It’s been a week since you got your first tattoo, which took two days to complete, leaving you dumbfounded at how Ralak was able to tattoo himself. Since, you’ve not only added three beads to your songchord, but also a piece of the cork from the bottle you shared after your... eventful first time together.

You had pretty much healed three days after your iknimaya night, but your tattoo remains irritated. Nothing you couldn’t handle, just a little inflammation with an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Not when Ralak’s watching, at least. He’d be quick to shoot you a scowl, instilling some level of obedience in your little, defiant body.

Despite his continuous repudiation of your attempts to become intimate, he would do his nightly... examinations. Insisting that you still smelled ‘wounded’, he’d spread your legs during your slumber and ‘check on you’. Or maybe it was more so to check you out. To see your plump folds and the way your little nub peeks out between them.

Sometimes he’d let his gaze linger a little too long to be considered an act of benevolence. But rather, an act of greed and lust. But he just couldn’t help it, you look so... perfect. So untouched. Soft and supple. Like silk under his calloused touch. It’s maddening, taking everything in him to look away and close your legs.

Truth be told, he was unsure of what he was really looking for, all he was going from was your scent. He knew it was radiating from this specific area, and truly didn’t want to take any chances and accept your advances if you weren’t fully healed and ready. At that point, you had just accepted the way things were and let him get along with whatever he needed to do to feel better.

And you’d pretend to be asleep, enjoying whatever little touch you could get from him.  

Other than that, Ralak has been nothing but sweet and patient with you, as he usually is. Bringing you breakfast in bed was one of his favourite things to do, other than cooking the meal itself. Meticulously diced fruits and freshly caught fish, plated perfectly, and presented by the chef himself – in all his naked glory.

That was another thing.

After mating, Ralak seemed to have lost his tewng [loincloth] altogether. Always walking around with nothing but maybe his cumberband or chest piece. At first, it was fun and tempting, putting a shy smirk on your face whenever you’d see his heavy cock laying freely between his thighs. But now, it’s just downright torment – teasing at its finest.

No matter how many times you ‘accidentally’ flashed him, bent over a little too much, or just straight up went naked too, he would continue with the task at hand, completely unbothered. You could look, but you couldn’t touch. Until you grew so fed up when you saw him in the most torturous pose of them all.

Until tonight.

----

Ralak sits comfortably on his knees in the soft, wet sand, sharpening the point of his spear. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t even realize your stare, nor the little strand of curly hair in the centre of his forehead. Even kneeling, this giant remains... a giant. Thick and burly, muscular physique defined from the way the last rays of sunshine on his skin.

His freckles twinkle, darker blue swirled and striped patterns moving with how his muscles tighten and untighten as he presses the waterstone against the blade. Every now and then he would dip the stone into the water to rewet it.

You watch him intently, counting the number of times he rewets the waterstone. How many times he swipes the blade. How many abs pop out as he leans further back to get a better look at the entire length of the spear. How many stripes in that tattoo that started it all. All of which, turn out the be the same number.

Six.

And once you got to the sixth stripe, your eyes trail down its length, catching sight of the singular dot right at the base of his cock. Swallowing the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth, your lidded gaze pierces into him, taking in every small detail of his cock. Barely sheathed. Thick. Slightly veiny and darker towards the glossy tip.

Then, he chucks the spears over his shoulder as if they were little twigs back from hometree, making a clunking noise so loud you couldn’t help but avert your piercing gaze upwards. You bite your lip from the motion, so touch deprived you begin to fantasize about being his little vultsyìp [stick; branch] again, draped over on his shoulder as he carries you back up to the marui.

Yet he remains focused on anything but you, trying his upmost best to maintain what sliver of composure you allow him to have left. The restraint is visibly plastered on his face – gathered brows and a tensed jaw. You slide a hand behind your back, untying the knot of your loincloth, allowing it to drop to your feet.

“Mind having a look? It’s a little itchy.” You ask, voice feigned with innocence.

His concerned gaze snaps up to your tattoo, eyes darting in all directions to scan the inking properly. After seeing that it’s just fine, his features soften upon realizing what you were actually doing. “Looks fine.” He mutters, eyelids fluttering a few times, landing his gaze upon yours.

And when you meet his ocean blue eyes, you swear they lustre over with something of wanton – of greed. Silently telling you how badly he wants to pin you down into the sand and slide himself inside you. To fill up your little body with every single inch of himself, until you’re moaning nothing but his name. You can feel the flutter of your stomach – excitement from thinking your attempt at seducing this overly-patient giant was finally a success.

Then he looks away.

As if he didn’t just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn’t just worsen the sexual tension that’s been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly – few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck – no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a ‘hmmph’ and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.

“Tanhì!” Ralak shouts after you, shuffling to his feet with the spears still on his shoulder. “Y/n!”

You ignore his calls, storming up to the marui pod. You sit on the end of the bed, face buried in your hands as you try to calm down. But the more you sit here, the bigger the flame grows in your chest. It’s obvious that you’re ready to try again, yet he’s blatantly ignoring your advances. At this point, you may have to try and pleasure yourself.

Keyword being ‘try’.

You’d never been able to make yourself feel all that great, let alone cum. But at this rate it seems like you have no other choice. That’s it. You’ll make yourself cum. No need for him, right? Right. You knew Ralak wouldn’t follow you when you’re this upset. He’d let you come to him when ‘you’re ready’, rather than invading your personal space.

You hype yourself up, lying flat on your back and closing your eyes. You allow for your wandering hands to barely graze your body, hardening your nipples into peaks almost instantly. Parting the red leaves of your top, you expose your breasts, thumbs giving them both a flick.

Listen to your body. Ralak’s voice echoes in your mind – an intrusive memory resurfacing all on its own.

Rather than scaring you, his voice arouses you, back bowing against the bed in response. A hand slips down your stomach, finding comfort between your thighs. You squeeze your hand with your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness of your folds. You let out a breathy, soft moan, tips of your digits now parting your pussy lips.

The cool air hits your exposed bundle of nerves, having you clench around nothingness. Pressing the pads of four fingers onto your sensitive nub, you rub slow, loose circles into it. Little shocks travel through you in jolts, spasming your thigh muscles. It feels like too much, but not enough all together.

You grunt, level of frustration doubling by the second. Dipping into your core, you slicken your fingertips, gliding them back up to your clit. You try tighter, faster circles, and apply a little less pressure this time. And fuck, did that make a difference. The wetness of your fingers had them gliding effortlessly over that little nub, making it stiffen beneath your fingertips.

Head sinking into the softness of his makeshift pillows, your mouth hangs agape, breathy moans losing their softness and turning into little mewls and whines. Your hips lift off the bed, chasing your building orgasm. You try to zero in on the feeling, but it feels so weird, but oh-so fucking good at the same time. It’s almost like the flame in your chest spread throughout your body – heat pooling in your core.

“What are you doing?” A thick, accented voice pierces the air, gruff and monotonous.

You’re too into the moment to stop – to even bat an eye. You can hear your mate’s voice, but what you’re doing feels so good that you can’t even tell if it’s just another intrusive thought or if its real. You feel your toes curl, hand working even faster as your stomach muscles tense up. You’re so, so close.

And Ralak could tell.

He stands there, beads of water from the ocean rolling off his body, dripping through the cracks of the woven marui floor. Hair plastered to his chest; he stares at the sight unfolding in front of him through lidded eyes. He grits his teeth to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the way seeing you do this to yourself makes him feel.

Aroused. Frustrated. Jealous. Possessive.

“I said. What are you doing?” Ralak growls low in his chest, thick fingers gripping your wrist to put a stop to your frantic movements.

“No. Don’t.” You huff out, fighting his grasp to pick up the pace of your fingers. “Trying to – fuck. Trying to c-cum!”

“I can see that. But why?” He asks through another growl, letting go of your wrist.

“’c-cause – ‘cause you’ve given me no other choice! You won’t even – haah ah – you won’t even touch me, Lak!” You whine loudly, desperately trying to re-establish the perfect movements and pace you had before.

Ralak does nothing but stand stock-still for a few moments, watching his numeyu [student] work hard to make herself cum for the first time. Pride swells his chest, seeing you so close – yet so far away. And for a second, a pang of pity clenches his heart, brows creasing as he watches you squirm about. Has he really been that distant? Distant enough to make you resort to self-pleasure when you have a perfectly capable mate right here?

“Touch you, hm?” He hums lowly, resting his hand on your sweaty thigh, “like this?”

“N-No. Y-You know what I want.” You barely sputter out, shaking your head side to side.

“Say it. Say the words.” He growls, fingertips sinking into your skin.

“Oh. Please, Lak. Please touch me. It’s been too long!” A frustrated, desperate groan falls from your lips, legs snapping wide open.

His eyes widen at the sight of you so vulnerable and exposed; puffy, glistening clit on full display. Gaze flying up to yours, he sees the utter state of desperation plastered all over your face. You already look so fucked out, brows pinched, and lips parted – eyes so lidded he can barely see the glint of gold in them.

“Here?” He breathes, sliding his hand up your thigh and barely brushing his three fingers against your sticky clit.

“Mmm – please.” You pant, grabbing his wrist to position his hand properly. “Right h-here.”

“Ah.” Ralak finally takes a seat on the edge of the cot, eyes fixed on your carnal expression. He presses right into the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt through your legs. “And what next, my numeyu?”

Grip tightening around his wrist, you move his hand erratically, hips moving along with it. You hear the click of his tongue and look up to see the slight shake of his head and curl of his lips. That same smug face he makes when you’re not quite getting something right.

“Karyu. [teacher]” You moan softly, doe eyes peering up into his, lashes fluttering as you blink repeatedly.

His brows jump at the word. It’s been a while since he’s heard it fall from your lips. Your flushed, swollen lips. He looks back up to your little fucked out eyes, glossy with tears and want. He hates to see you cry but for some reason the tears you’re fighting back are only making him hornier. Is that how bad you want his cock? Bad enough to cry about it? His hung cock springs from his thigh, jumping up to slap his stomach.

“Must your karyu teach you how to cum again?” Ralak growls, sliding a finger down to your slickened entrance. “Hm? Were our lessons not enough?” All you can do is mewl and claw at his wrist, lolling your head from side to side. “Answer me.” He says roughly, prodding at your hole with very tip of his digit.

“Yes! Fuck – yes. Please, t-teach me.” You beg breathily, rolling your hips down onto his single digit. Having one last, quick glance between your legs, he clenches his jaw as he slides his finger inside you. And when it comes to a hilt, a moan of relief evades your agape mouth, head sinking back into the soft pillow.

For a fleeting moment, he remains completely still, ensuring that you’re alright. Ralak stares at you, eyes darting in all directions to detect even a hint of pain etched into your features. A brow jumps when he realises that all you’re feeling is pure ecstasy. Taking this as his cue to continue, he pulls his finger back a bit, lining it up with the gummy part of your heat.

“If you want to cum...” He roughly curls his finger, applying a blissful pressure to your sweet spot, earning him a sudden whine from your lips, “...you touch right here. Understood?”

“Mhm. Mhm.” You frantically nod as you hum the words, feeling an itchy feeling brew in your core. You need to scratch it. So. Fucking. Bad. And his finger just isn’t enough. “Mh – more!”

“More?” He smirks, swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” His voice is gruff, and anything but innocent. Like he takes joy in seeing you in such a desperate, needy state. “Or is it her –”

“For the love of Eywa, Ralak. Just fuck me, please!” You cry out, tears now rolling down your cheeks. If he didn’t take care of you now, you’d just lose it. He lets loose a loud chuckle, predatory gaze boring into your innocence. As if your little pleas and begs were entertaining him – getting him off.

“Take all three, then I think about it.” He teases with a cocked brow, pulling out of you tenderly to realign two digits at your opening.

“Y-Yes – Just, hurry Lak.” You whine, tugging at his wrist to sink his fingers inside you. “Oh, shit.” You exhale a sigh of relief. The stretch is divine, filling you up and just barely scratching that itch. To have his two thick fingers buried inside you is like ice on a burn, soothing all your pent-up frustration.

Ralak groans at the way you’re squeezing his digits, pussy so soaked they slip in and out with ease. As badly as he wants to let you know you’re being such a good girl for him, he decides to hold his praise for the bigger stretch. His last finger. Waiting patiently for your body to tell him you’re ready, he uses his free hand to massage your clit.

He fingers you roughly, pussy walls clenching and unclenching around him, telling him to go even deeper inside. Your whole-body squirms around, hips stuttering from your unadulterated desperation. The little, sweet cries and mewls escaping your lips are like music to his ears, sinking him deeper into his state of arousal.

Ralak situates himself between your legs, preparing you for the next stetch. Last time, you took it well, and perhaps if you hadn’t used your mate’s word against him, you would have had more time to adjust to all his fingers. The desperation you feel now is nearly as intense as your iknimaya tonight, but you find the strength to bite your tongue and allow Ralak to take over completely.

With your body now in a state of pure submission, Ralak leans in to kiss you, slowly sliding his last finger inside you. Your moan of pleasure is muffled by his soft lips, last knuckles meeting the softness of your plump pussy lips. He pulls away from you, moving his wet kisses up to your ear.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispers in a gruff voice, bottom lip brushing against the lobe of your ear. Angling his wrist to prod right into your sweet spot, he pumps all three fingers in and out of you.

“Feels... s-so – so good.” You pant quietly, rolling your hips into him. He can feel your body opening even more for him, sweet nectar dripping down to his wrists. After two more pumps of his fingers, you push him away from you, causing him to settle into the dips of his feet.

Both of you pant for air, chests heaving wildly, fully exposed and on edge. You can see the way his cock twitches to be sunk inside something – anything. It’s throbbing and so hard it must be painful, bead after bead of precum just oozing from his slit. It’s almost as if he enjoyed depriving himself of the pleasure of your tight cunt around his cock.

But tonight, there’s a glint in his eye.

A predatory, rapacious one. And when you exchange glares, there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. The understanding that you both want it just as bad as the other. The understanding that his patience has been stretched thin – so thin that all he needs is a little push.

“My body is ready, Ralak. I want you inside me, please.” You beg pathetically, looking him deep in his eyes.

Your sensitive pussy walls ache to know what it feels like to tighten around him, all gummy and slimy from the slick your body won’t stop producing. It’s like it’s in overdrive, sensing how big your mate is, and doing what it needs to accommodate his sheer size. Your legs spread wider, glistening pussy on full display – acting as bait to lure him in.

Ralak repositions himself closer between your legs, staring intently at the soft flesh, flushed red with arousal. Gaze darting up to yours, he sees your eyes gloss over with want, more tears of desperation threatening to roll down your heated cheeks.

He can tell you were ready, body completely submitting itself to him and his touches. He’s never seen you this needy, not even in heat. This past week has been tortuous for the two of you, waiting patiently for you to heal fully before touching you in the way you want.

“You must tell me if it hurts. Please tanhì.” He says low in his chest, rubbing his crown of his cock between your slickened folds.

“I will. Please.” A breathy whine parts your lips, hips shimmying down towards his. Left leg loosely resting on his thigh, you hold your right leg back, knee brushing against your shoulder.

He looks as if he were in pain, grimacing from the anticipation of possibly hurting you again. He ensures to take his time, aware of how well-endowed he is beneath his loincloth. He begins rubbing soft, loose circles in your swollen, sticky clit. It’s all red and puffy, making wet, sloppy noises with each stroke with his tip. He lingers there for as long as he can, playing in your wetness in hopes it’ll make it less painful for you.

Now with your verbal consent, he leans in, supporting his body weight with his hands nestled by your sides. His hips snap, throbbing, veiny cock sliding over your tender clit. You feel his warm, swollen tip poke into your lower stomach, pearls of precum leaking into the dip of your navel. He pulls back, trying to line his cock up with your entrance once more, hips stammering to sink himself inside you.

Fat tip bucking against your tight hole, it slides between your pussy lips and over the bundle of shot nerves again. You can’t help but moan, the sensation of his warm cock rubbing against you only makes the need to be fucked grow stronger. His breaths turn raggedy, huffing and puffing hot air as he snaps his hips back a final time. You reach down with a trembling hand and grip his girth, positioning him at your entrance.

“Relax for me, tanhì.” He grunts, shuffling his left knee closer towards you. “Let me in.” He feels you loosen up, releasing the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. “A little more. There you go.” He hums, point of his tip now slowly breaking the resistance.

He pushes gently. Carefully. Slowly. Your chins meet your chests, both watching as his tip pops inside you. You take a sharp, shaky breath, feeling the immense pressure of something so thick bury itself into your tight opening. Eyes flicking up to yours, he searches your face for any kind of discomfort.

“Oh Lak. ‘ts s-so big.” You whimper under your breath, hand flying up to grip his forearm. “D-deeper.”

Inebriated eyes struggle to widen at your words, just like he struggles to fight against his urges to slam the rest of his cock inside you. He takes a deep breath, mesmerized by the way your cunt sucks him in another two inches. You’re so tight that he can’t help but grimace, brows tightening from the way you’re pinching him.

He stops, wanting to let you adjust to what’s inside you so far, only for you to wrap your slender, soft tail around his thigh. You know that it drives him crazy, it’s one of his favourite parts of you. A gruff grunt vibrates in his throat, hips bucking on their own to sink another couple inches inside your wet, tight cunt.

“Deeper. Deeper.” You blubber, grip on his forearm tightening as he obliges. You want all of him, every, single, fucking inch of him to stuff you until you feel queasy. Until he couldn’t push anymore. Until he can’t do anything but grind himself inside you. “Deeper!” You cry out a pathetic whine, just as his mushroomy head presses intp your cervix.

Ralak continues to push against the resistance, biting down on his bottom lip from the way you squeeze him so tightly. He bottoms out in your slippery pussy, his tattoo finally kissing yours. They align so perfectly, each line pressed against one another with precision.

He’s so deep inside you, that it feels like he’s in your tummy, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your mouth hangs open, tongue relaxed against your bottom lip as saliva dribbles down your chin. Brows kissing in fervour, you stare into his eyes while you relish in the sensation of your mate all the way inside you for the first time. He watches as the colour in your face turns almost purple, nails sinking so deep into his skin that they draw a little blood.

“Breathe for me, tanhì.” He huffs, easing up on his pushes. With his reminder, you gasp for air, salty tears flowing onto your tongue. “You are doing so well. You know that?”

“Oh – Ralak.” You let out a sweet, little cry, nipples hardening into stiff peaks from his extra hoarse voice. You couldn’t stop the tears; they always came when you feel too much of anything. And right now, you were feeling so full, so good. Even the stretch feels good, the sting and hint of pain from his cock burrowing all the way inside you.

He could feel the blood slowly trickle down his forearm, but the way your tight walls are nipping at him is much worse. The scent of his blood mixes in the air with the scent of your arousal, sending his nostrils fluttering in fear that he’s hurt you again.

“Feeling pain?” He asks, breaking eye contact briefly to check if you’re bleeding again. An expression of relief washes over him when he realizes that you’re not – it’s all just him. All he can see is the supple skin pulled taut around his cock, doing its best to stretch wide enough for him.

“No.” You lie, afraid it’ll be a repeat of last time. The pain is more like a burn, but the way the ridge of his cockhead pushes up into your gummy walls masks it just right.

“Tanhì.” He rasps, glancing at your disconnected kurus laying on your stomach, silently asking to make tsaheylu – for the truth.

“I – I mean, a little.” You confess, holding both your kurus in next to each other. “Just... stings. Feel me.” You breathe, urge to bond so consuming that your tendrils dance wildly as you move them closer together. Tsaheylu is made hastily, kurus tugging together with a quick, sharp movement. You stare into each other’s lidless eyes, pupils blown to full capacity.

Ralak’s ears tuck next to his skull, brows pinching and lips parting. In an instant, he can feel everything you’re feeling, and for a few moments its just overwhelming. He feels the slight burn between your legs and pants a few times, breath syncing with yours.

“See? You feel…good. Really good.” You moan lowly, finally relaxing your stomach muscles.

“Good.” He gulps, corners of his lips curling upwards. He stays as still as he can, waiting for your body’s command to move. “You feel… tight.”

There’s a moment of silence where you both take in how one another feels. How you can feel each vein of his cock. The way his mushroomy head throbs against your cervix. How warm and soft you feel around his length, sucking him in with greed.

It almost feels like it did when you mated – blown pupils and heightened senses. It’s just another way of connecting with each other. Ralak drops his head, gaze landing on your tattoo, distorted from the way your belly bulges from his cock.

“Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, voice laced with panic. He begins pulling out, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “That must hurt.” He says, putting all his weight on one hand to caress the bump protruding from your abdomen with the other.

You look down to see his fingers graze over the bulge, shock raising your brows. “I- It doesn’t. I’m fine.”

His hand continues to stroke the bump, fantasizing about how one day this bump would be by something else entirely – his baby growing in your womb. He tries his hardest to fight the arousal brewing in his core, the type that makes his hips snap forward all on their own. All so he can see that bulge protrude even more.

Ralaks’ breathing is so heavy and hard that it’s audible – a low, continuous growl rumbling deep in his chest. Hand slowly sliding down your tattoo, he presses the ball of his palm into your pelvis as his thumb caresses your puffy clit. It makes you squirm a little, walls relaxing and contracting around his cock. He can tell that your body is ready for him, pussy producing so much slick it’s dripping onto his swollen balls.

“Please….” You moan softly, trying to grind into him. “Need you so bad, Lak.”

“Tell me what you need, my little paysyul.” He groans, inching closer to your face, hand moving from your clit to cup your breast. 

“Need you… need you to fuck m-me.” Your breath hitches at the last word, body shuddering from the way his slickened, calloused thumb grazes over your nipple.

“Fuck you, hm?” His accented voice is thick with want – with rapacity. He thrusts into you suddenly, knocking the air out your lungs. “Like that?”

“Mmnfuck! Ye-s.” You inhale shakily, nodding reassuringly as you claw at his face to pull him closer to you. He quickly props himself up on both his elbows, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

Ralak clenches and unclenches his jaw, ears twitching in synchrony, as he tries to resist scratching the itch to pound into you like his own little personal fucktoy. No matter how badly he wants to. To pump you full of his seed. To breed you. To knot you.

He sighs, momentarily closing his eyes to regain his composure. It’s already here, the animalistic instinct to turn you into a vessel to carry his offspring. It’s so close. Creeping up on him like a menace.

His rut.

Though it’s not due for another week, the way you’re staring up at him, eyes glazed over with need, begging him to fill you up didn’t help. Yet, he bites his lip through it, determined to make your real first time a special one. An enjoyable experience. So much so, that he forgets it’s his first time too.

Gently, Ralak. He reminds himself, rocking into you languidly, back muscles rippling with every thrust. Glancing down, he witnesses the bulge move as he rolls his hips into you. Sticky pelvises connected by strings of slick as he pulls out, he grunts quietly, feeling ashamed by how aroused watching you stretch to these lengths makes him feel.

He leans into you, peppering wet kisses down your jaw line, working his way up to the lobe of your ear. “Being such a good girl for me, hm? For your mate.”

You can feel the way his cock moves inside you, so deep and thick that every part of you is being stimulated all at once. You can’t even think straight, not with the way he’s grunting and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You hold on tightly to your mate, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves at a steady pace.

That hint of pain quickly subsides, morphing into waves of pleasure so intense that it’s etched into your features. Your little mewls and whines turn into soft moans, breathy and shaky from the way he fucks right into your gummy sweet spot. You tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, encouraging him to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes.

“Please. More! Need more of you!” You cry out, nails scraping down his back to pull him in closer. 

“Patience, tanhì.” He huffs, moving his kisses down to your neck, suckling on your supple skin – leaving little bruise like marks behind. “So tiny” A kiss right on the column of your throat, “So tight.” A gentle roll of his hips as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. “My sevin [pretty].”

“Ralak.” You moan softly as you lift your hips up into him, feeling absolutely nothing but absolute and utter bliss at this point. “Please.”

He rolls his hips into you once more, slowly, and tenderly, ridge of his cockhead gliding past your swelling sweet spot. “My mate.” He groans, pulling back just to push himself inside you at a torturously slow pace. “All mine, yes?”

“Yes. Yes. All yours, ma’ lak.” You breathe, snaking your arms around his neck to tug him into you. “F-Faster.” You ask coyly, trying to keep your legs as wide open as you possibly can.

Ralak moves a little faster, but not nearly as fast as you need. He’s so big – so thick that it doesn’t matter the angle, some part of his cock is stimulating every part of you. Looking down, you see himself only halfway buried inside you, refusing to let your tattoos touch anymore.

Beady, displeased eyes snap back up to meet his, “I want to feel all of you.”

Ralak almost laughs, but instead cocks his brow and smirks. He leans down to play in the dip of your collarbone with his tongue, moving quickly to pepper a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “You like pain that much?”

For second, you really think about it. His cock is so deep that you feel like you can barely take a full breath. Not to mention the bulge from him being inside you alone. Yet you want all of it. Perhaps you do like pain. But with the way he’s touching you it’s hard to think clearly whatsoever. All that’s running through your head is Ralak pinning you into a mating press and pounding you the way you want.

“I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain...” You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. “...then yes, I like pain.”  

“Is that right?” He huffs as his back slams into the ground, hands instinctively flying to grip the softness of your hips.

“Yes.” You let out a shaky confirmation, bringing your knees to your chest so you’re squatting over him. Sinking all the way down onto his cock, he watches as you suck in every single inch of him with ease. You’re tight – really tight – but you were practically made for him. He exhales a chuckle, finding it interesting how such a little thing could take his cock so well.

“What?” You snap, hands pressing into his firm chest as you reposition yourself on top of him.

“Who knew someone as small as you...” He slides his hands from your hips to your waist, “... would be made for someone like me.”

You gasp as he completely bottoms out inside you, lungs filling with the scent of his arousal, “Someone s-so big?”

He chuckles, calloused thumbs grazing over your raised tattoo, entranced how you can make such an inking like his look so good. There’s just something about the way it trails down to the most sensitive, vulnerable area of your body that drives him crazy.

“I can see why you couldn’t stop staring at mine.” He husks, hand sliding over the stripes to feel their raised texture.

The sensation makes your hips snap back, tattoo still a little sore and itchy. But the way his cock tilts right into your walls washes away the sting with a wave of pleasure. And soon your hips are stuttering all on their own, chasing that budding heat in your core. Every time you move back it feels like a jolt of white-hot pleasure, and when you move forward it’s like –

Satiation.

A feeling of fullness and satisfaction, so intense you feel like you’re about to explode. The sensation is a new one altogether, something you’ve never felt before. It’s so much – so overwhelming you could just scream. It’s like a pressure in your chest, like a heated pot with an airtight lid, about to pop and release.

Your body chases it, grinding back and forth into him at an unrelenting tempo. And the sounds that are coming from your mouth are just straight up vulgar. At this rate, you’re using him for your own pleasure, frenzied movements only increasing in speed and force. He’s so deep the bump protruding from your abdomen has completely deformed your tattoo, pushing against his thumbs.

He presses into it, feeling the crown of his cock through your soft skin. You’re arching your back, angling the tip of his cock to pummel into you even more, fingernails digging deep into his chest for some sort of leverage. You lift your hips up and slam into him repeatedly until the sound of smacking flesh overpowers your filthy noises.

“E-Easy tanhì.” His gruff voice breaks from your erratic movements. “Slow down. You are going to hurt yourself.” He grunts as he grabs your hips to slow you down, feeling his own climax quickly approaching.

“Quiet.” You shush him, weakly smacking away one of his hands to prevent him from ruining this for you. “Fuck. This feels too good. So fucking good. I-I feel like I’m –” You cut yourself off with a quick gasp for air.

Ralak looks up at you with lust in his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest from how you’re working for your climax all on your own. And from the way you’re clamping down around him, he can sense that you’re close. Maybe he could just give into you. Just this once.

“There you go. Just like that.” He encourages you, sliding his thumb between your folds to play with your sticky clit.

“Ugh! Lak.” You moan his name as you release the breath you’ve been holding. Eyes slamming shut, you shift your focus on the unfurling coil in your core. It feels like your nerves are shot, body teeming with pleasure.

Ralak stays still, allowing his little tanhì to do all the work. He can’t peel his eyes away from such a sight. The sight of his mate using him for her own pleasure. It almost sends him over the edge, urge to fuck up into you becoming an itch he must scratch.

“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.

“Yeah? Haah, ah – say it. Tell your numeyu.” You pant shakily.

Ralak’s jaw twitches, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. He looks like he’s biting on his tongue – literally and figuratively. To hold back even just an ounce of self-control. So not to admit how good it feels when you squeeze him with your innocence.

It’s so pure. Untouched. Unfucked.

“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.

“Oh, fuck.” You let loose a sudden scream, your hand flying to cover your agape mouth. Then there’s –

Silence. You hold your breath, feeling your eyes burn as they gloss over. All you can hear is the sound of your slick smearing all over his pelvic bone as you grind into him, and his intense breathing. Until you feel like you’re about to burst. Your hand falls from your mouth, leaving it wide open.

“Ralak.” You moan his name, although it sounds more like a desperate cry for help.

Rather than answering, he picks up the speed of his thumb, swiping over your swollen clit at a merciless pace.

“Ralak.” Another little cry falls from your flushed lips to let him know you’re close even though he can feel everything through tsaheylu. “Ra –” You cut yourself off with a quick snap of your hips, jamming his head right against your swollen g-spot. “–lak!”

“Ralak!” You cry out for the last time, frenzied movements turning into quick, rough grinding. You gush all over your mate, force of your orgasm so strong that you push him out of you, painting his stomach in your pussy juices as if he were a blank canvas. Your legs shake uncontrollably, all strength of your body washing away to leave you weak and wobbly. Pushing down onto his chest, you do your best to hold your shuddering body up.

“Fuck. Good girl. Good girl.” He curses a well-deserved praise, accent extra thick over such a novel word to him.

“I-I just made mys-self cum, Lak.” You groan breathlessly, feeling the walls of your cunt pulsate around him as confirmation.  

“I can see that tanhì” He chuckles breathily, chin meeting his chest to look at the little puddle of cum you’ve made on him. You look down to see what he’s talking about, blurred vision making it so that you can only see the intense glisten of his skin. You slide one hand down from his chest onto his stomach, feeling a warm, watery liquid glazed over his cyan skin.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorr – ”

“Shh. Again. Do that for your karyu again.” He hums, rolling his hips to grind his cock between your slippery pussy lips.

“Oh – Lak, I – I really don’t know if I can.” You say with trembling lungs, feeling so spent that you’re light in the head.

Ralak clicks his tongue, swiftly moving his hands under your thighs to lift you up. “You can. Hips up.” With one quick movement, he positions the tip of his cock at your tight opening and lets go of your thighs. Due to the heaviness of your body, you slam down onto lap, taking every inch of his cock all at once.

“Oh, great mother!” You cry out her name as a curse, crown of his cock threatening to pierce through your cervix. It hurt so good that you can’t help but grind further into it his relentless pushes. Fuck, maybe you do like pain. White hot pleasure surges through you, but morphs into something totally different when you feel his fingers wrap around and sink into your hips.

He repositions himself, heels of his feet sinking so deep into the cot that there will be dents for weeks. You bob and sway as he wiggles into place, all-consuming eyes boring into yours of delirium. They had a glint of... intent.

Intent to make you cum again.

And again. And – honestly, as many orgasms as he could squeeze out of your little body. And before you can even process all of what’s going on, Ralak begins pounding into you. Wet, squelching noises and sounds of skin smacking against skin become louder than the filthy moans he’s expertly working out of you.

“This is what you want, yes?” He grunts, pulling out just to slam himself back into you a little deeper. “All of me?”

“Lak!” You barely get out, a hand against his tattoo to push him back. “W-Wait, it’s too much –”

“Answer me.” He growls, angling his pelvis to fuck right into your most sensitive spot.

“Oh – fuck! Y-Yes!” You let loose a sudden, hoarse cry of defeat, taking his hammering with no where to run.

He can’t stop the buck of his hips. It’s just the way your heat sucks his in his twitching cock, milking his sticky precum into your empty womb. And that belly bulge – that damn bulge makes it twice as hard to fight to urge to fill you up until it’s even more swollen. He watches as it moves, ramming so hard into you it protrudes a little more with each thrust.

“Then cum for me.”  He demands of you, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounce under your crimson top from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Please! Please –” You beg, unsure what even for. You could already feel yet another orgasm approaching, and it’s not yours. It’s like a heat is transferring through his queue to yours, and down your spine in shocks. You try to close your legs in anticipation of it pooling in your core, setting off your own orgasm.

“Tell me what you need.” He growls, thrusts becoming shorter and deeper, bulge at the base of his cock growing by the second.

He’s on the brink of cumming, and you could feel it.

“I-Inside.” You blubber, head dipping back from the overstimulation as he gets himself off with your tight cunt. He tsks, thrusting up into you hard. “Ugh! I need your cum inside me!”

“Shit.” He growls deeply, manhandling your hips to keep your squirming body down on his cock. You feel it throb inside you, filling up your empty womb right before your pussy walls flutter around him. Your brain short circuits, body convulsing violently before slumping down into his. He holds you tight, giving your sopping cunt a few more deep thrusts, knot prodding at your entrance.

“W-What’s t-that?” You blubber breathlessly into his ear, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Knot.” He barely grunts an answer, thick, sticky seed dripping down the growing, throbbing bulge as it has no where else to go. His fingers dig into your skin, deeper and deeper as he squeezes his eyes shut – resisting the urge to sink his knot inside you too. That would hurt. Too much.

He hums out his orgasm, rocking into you a few times to ensure you’re as full as can be. Well, you feel that way. You’re so full of not only his cock but also his huge load, you can practically feel it slushing around inside you. You groan when the sensation makes you a little queasy.

Ralak feels your discomfort, tenderly pulling out of you. That alone took a while, each inch coming out of you slowly and gently. “You okay?” He huffs, just as his cockhead pops out of you, allowing his warm cum to seep out of you and down your thighs. You nod into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and letting your body rest on top of him.

“You took me so well.” He coos at you, supporting the back of your head with one hand and the swell of your ass with the other. “You know that?”

“Mhm. L-ak.” His name comes out broken as he shuffles to his feet with you in his firm hold. “I see you, ma’ ‘lak.” You mumble, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“I see you, my little tanhì.” He utters the words in a hoarse voice, making his way to the cave to take care of you.

----

Now that you’re all healed and settled in to your new forever home, Ralak urges you to pay your family a visit. It took quite a bit of convincing, and honestly a little bit of bribing, but it worked and here you are – standing in your own family marui. Kiri, Tuk, and Neytiri were out with Ronal and Tsireya, leaving the boys behind.

Just your luck.

“C’mon, let’s see it.” Jake crosses his arms and takes a step back.

“Yeah, y/n. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen you. I haven’t even seen your tattoo yet.” Lo’ak chimes in, leaning against the stilt of his family marui. Neteyam stands tall, keeping to himself as he listens intently to the conversation.

“Guys.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with the cork on your songchord.

“Why so nervous, baby girl? Somewhere where we can’t see or somethin’?” Jake jesters, uncrossing his arms to walk behind you, inspecting your back.

“Uh – uhm.” You stumble with your words, looking at Neteyam for some sort of rescue. Rather, he cocks a brow in agreeance with his family. He wants to know too. You look at Lo’ak, who’s now making his way towards you too. It feels like they’re all closing in on you, teaming up on you to give you no other choice.

“Fine. If you guys want to see it that bad.” You shrug, hooking your thumbs under the band of your tewng and tug it down until the six lines begin to show.

The men’s eyes snap down and widen once they all realise what you’re doing. They begin retreating to the back of the marui, hands splayed in front of their faces to shield them from the unfolding sight.

“Alright. Alright!” Jake shouts, waving his hands for you to stop.

“Yep. Nevermind. Message received.” Lo’ak mutters, making his way through the back door of the marui. Before you can even look Neteyam’s way, he’s right behind his baby brother, shaking his head and escaping this whole ordeal.

----------

THE END :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this (slow burn) Ralak series. I just want to give a special thank you to @zestys-stuff for allowing me to bring this man to life in a fic. This collaboration has been unreal and so much fun and honestly, I look forward to doing more collabs with you in the future (cus I know you got more delicious OC’s hidden up your sleeve). You’re so fucking talented and I literally cannot get over it.  

Now, now. Ralak is not gone forever. I’ll be doing special episodes of him (and reader) going forward, and you can expect the first special episode very soon – “Ralak’s First Rut”. It’s a bit of a mind fuck (literally) so bear with me! Anyways.

‘nuff love,

Issy <3

[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍: 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Memories flood Neteyam's mind as he deals with your accident, making him relieve your history and all the reasons he can't shake you from his life, no matter how hard he tries.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death)

wc: 5.1k words

a/n: I'm actually really nervous about this chapter, because while I love it, it's different than any other Monster in Me chapter so far. This is also the only chapter I've ever written entirely from the MMC's POV, and I hope you enjoy finally finding out why Neteyam's been acting the way he has, and why he's so adamant in his quest for vengeance. As always, thank you for asking to be tagged, I'd love to hear your feedback, your replies and asks and reblogs make my life, so thank you! Thank you to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art, ilysm bestie x and thank you to @draiochtwrites for listening to me talk about my stupid ideas for hours every day, i love you x

na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, ite - daughter, srane - yes, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, tam-tam - calm, oare - moon, tewng - loincloth, torukspxam - octoshroom, ngaytxoa - I'm sorry, 'itan - son, angtsìk - Hammerhead Titanothere, yarik - herbivore, ftang - stop, tsantu - good guy, tsìltsan 'eve - good girl, kali'weya - arachnoid used in Uniltaron

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

And maybe in another life We fight all day, kiss all night But I don't wanna break your heart You keep yours, I'll keep mine

Neteyam, for the first time in his life, couldn’t have cared less if he tried that there was a battle underway, that there were humans screaming and charging at the Na’vi around him, that the explosions happening every time a helicopter went down in flames deafened his ears - none of it mattered anymore, not as he heard the screech of an ikran he knew all too well, that he loved, that was now lifelessly falling towards the ground, taking the woman of his worst nightmares and biggest fantasies along, not when, with every second passing where he ignored the rest of his surroundings and dove as fast as his own ikran could possibly fly in order to make it to you in time, another memory flashed across his mind, so many memories he thought he left behind, so many memories that would haunt his every waking moment if he wouldn’t catch you, if he was too late. 

“Teyam, do you trust me?” 

“What kind of question is that? You’re my best friend. Of course I trust you.” 

Your mischievous smile, although more devious than Neteyam liked, always had power to put his heart to ease… after all, it was you. You, his best friend, the girl who knew everything about him, that helped him withstand every challenge life threw at him, just a couple 11 year olds who had gone through more than most adults do, who have been forced to grow up a lot faster than any kid their own age should ever do. But Neteyam didn’t mind. Maybe he used to, back when he was young and naive. Back then, he cried a lot, each morning a dreaded reminder of the pain and ache that awaited him each day, all for a purpose he couldn’t quite understand yet, that made no sense in a child’s mind, that had no way of truly understanding the concept of a future littered with war and loss, a future where he would carry the burden of being the next leader of his clan, the eldest son of the mighty, revered Toruk Makto and Palulukan Makto, the grandson of brave, respected leaders, the next in line of a ruling dynasty filled with great people he had to follow and to live up to. 

Now, he no longer cried, because no matter how hard life got, he was never alone. Because, even though you didn’t have quite the same pressure on your shoulders, you carried your own burdens and a sadness deeper than Neteyam could ever imagine or could ever want to. In his mind, the sting from a few bloodied gashes and the headaches that tried him each night were a small inconvenience compared to the pain that you struggled with and braved every moment since your parents died. When his father told him that you would be joining him for training in the weeks after the accident, Neteyam didn’t know what to expect. But day after day, you managed to blow not only his expectations, but his entire family’s out of the water, each day just another opportunity for you to prove to everyone that your future would be as bright as all the stars in the night combined, that you were special and unique, that you were a talent that only comes once in a few lifetimes.

Now, years later, Neteyam still found it hard to believe how strong you were, how capable and skilled and fearless. Whereas he’s always been more withdrawn and temperate, your fire burned strong and untamed, and you always managed to get both of you in trouble - if he were to be honest with himself, though, he would never mind, not with you. 

“Good. Then let’s go.” 

You didn’t bother looking behind you as you started sprinting, your flowy top and tewng, always one-of-a-kind, undulating in the wind, making Neteyam’s heart flutter in his chest. You were so beautiful. The most beautiful. A purple flush rising in his cheeks was all that was needed for Neteyam to be grateful for the way you always ran ahead of him, too impatient to wait for a boy that liked to take his time and enjoy the moments few and in between in which life didn’t have to go too fast for his comfort. 

"Where are we going, Vi?"

"Shhh, more walking, less talking, 'Teyam. You need to learn to embrace the unknown." you chuckled as you stopped and waited for him to catch up, before taking him by the hand and pulling him until he stumbled softly onto you and you both fell, him on top of you, with a gasp that turned into loud giggles from your side and unflinching groans from his.

"Vi..."

"The mighty warriors have fallen, what will the clan do without us?"

He couldn't help his own exasperated chuckle and the roll of his eyes as he spoke.

"I don't think we're quite there yet."

You shrugged, sure of yourself as always, a trait Neteyam admired and tried to emulate, to little avail most days.

"Soon. Your dad's already talking about the Iknimaya. We're almost ready, Teyam. And if we do it soon, we'll be the youngest Na'vi to ever do it. You and me."

Before he could say anything, you reached for him until your lips made contact with his cheeks, and it didn't help his blush, that was now deep periwinkle and burning his skin from the inside out, like a fire that wanted to escape his body, too powerful to be contained inside it.

"And just like today, if you ever fall, I'll always be there to catch you. You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together."

Those words rang painfully in Neteyam's ears as his ikran dove at full speed towards the ground, as his open, stretched out hand was just outside of your reach, as he watched your body disappear through the trees, where it would inevitably crash, where it might be lost forever.

His heart, that was going as fast as his ikran was, watching your unconscious form collect deep, bleeding scars like Kiri collected pebbles in the woods with every hard branch your body made contact with, stopped racing in his chest as, by the grace of Eywa, your fall was broken by the plush, attenuating force of a torukspxam right before you hit the ground. Despite the fear, so deeply embedded in him, it was impossible to know if he would ever be able to fully detach himself from it again, a seed of hope bloomed in him that maybe he wasn't too late. That maybe, despite not being able to catch you, not now nor for the past 7 years in which he's left built up resentment prevent him from wanting to, maybe he wasn't too late.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He didn't wait for Seze to land before he jumped and approached you, pushing with all his might against the drag of his own heavy body that felt like it was experiencing the world in slow motion, until one of his hands found the back of your neck, propping you up gently and his other hand placed two fingers on your pulse point, trying to feel for a heartbeat that would either calm his own or stop it altogether.

"Please, Txepvi. Please..."

When the small, barely-felt flutters registered in him, he let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding and wasted no time in picking you up bridal-style and running back to his beautiful ikran. He had no time to dwell on the cracks deepening in his heart as he watched Seze bumping her snout on the side of Oare's lifeless face, sorrowful trills filling his ears, no time to dwell on the red liquid spilling out from multiple points in your body, dripping down his body and onto the ground, no time to stop yet another memory fighting to come to the forefront of his mind.

Fickle as you are That's exactly why I keep on running back 'Cause I'm brittle at the parts Where I wish I was strong

“I can walk, Teyam.” 

Neteyam decided to ignore you as he grabbed you by the back of your knees and carried you back to the village, the gash in your leg large enough to have hit a couple veins and stain your thigh red, but not deep enough to make it life-threatening - still, Neteyam wouldn’t take any chances. Taking chances… that was the reason for keeping you so close to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck… that was the only reason. 

“Can you, Vi? Isn’t that how this happened in the first place?” He chuckled, yelping a little when your fist made contact with his chest. 

“It was an accident, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, you have a lot of accidents. And so close to the Iknimaya, too…” the shake of his head was mostly a teasing one, and although he tried to push away the nagging fear eating away at him, the one that told him you might not be able to take it with him, the one that screamed he’d be all alone once more, like he was before you, the one that urged bad memories and ugly scenarios into his mind, the one whose ugly head appeared as though from around the corner, staring intently to see if he’ll allow it to approach or banish it from existence. He couldn't decide yet.

He couldn’t do this without you. He needed you to be his first flight. Like you told him last year, and like it’s been solidified in his soul every day since, you and him were meant to rise and fall together. You were meant to fly together, to soar together. And that couldn’t happen if a tiny accident delayed your progress. 

“Aw, it’s sweet you’re worried, although I think it’s mostly selfish and you’re just too scared to do the Iknimaya by yourself.”

The tinge in his cheeks is enough validation for you to start laughing at him, your head thrown so far back, he had to readjust his grip on you, so that you wouldn’t fall out of his arms. 

“I knew it! You scaredy-cat. Why would you be scared, Teyam? Out of everyone here, everyone who’s gonna do this next, out of all of us, you are the best. You’ve always been the best.” 

“No. You’re the best." As much wasn't up for discussion to him, and never will be. "And you promised.” 

Your smile softened taking him in, the little pout he tried his best to conceal, the little scrunch of his nose, the way his ears twitched in slight annoyance and slight embarrassment… he couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought you found it… endearing? 

“I know what I promised. And I intend to keep my promise. You don’t have to worry, Teyam. You and I have always been two sides of the same coin. And as long as you want me by your side, nothing could ever pry me away.” 

"Just hang on, please. Shit. Please don't die. Please don't die."

And maybe when you need my help I like myself when it's over But later in the light, you go Dark and rogue, and I need closure

“Ma ‘ite, you have to be more careful.” The quiet, teasing admonishments of his grandmother do little do deter you, although you keep your eyes on the ground, slight embarrassment visible in the swish of your tail and the flatness of your ears.

“Srane, ma Tsa’hik. Ngaytxoa.”

The thick cream paste made its way from Mo’at’s fingers to your thigh, where it was spread in a hefty layer until the cut was no longer visible. You winced as it made contact with your skin, but said nothing as you accepted the help, and Neteyam saw his grandmother nod in approval at your bravery and inclination to suffer in silence, to not let anyone know you’re in pain at any point. Strong heart. Him, on the other hand, wished you were a bit more forthcoming, wished you didn’t feel the need to go through suffering alone. With a pat on your head and a soft smile, the Tsa’hik raised from her spot on the floor and turned her back on you both.

“You’re all done. It’s just a scratch, this time. I feel like I always have to have extra healing salve at the ready just for you. Now go, and be careful. Your Iknimaya is soon and my grandson would never forgive you if you missed it.” 

“Neteyam, quick, put her on the mat. I need all the help I can get, now! Go get all the healers in training, we don’t have a lot of time.” The barking of orders did little to ease Neteyam’s fear, as he very rarely has ever seen his grandmother this agitated. After sending away the trainees, she turned to her grandson and took a deep breath, to calm herself. As serious her voice was, as rushed and violent the atmosphere around them, she still found the second to put her hand on her grandson’s chest, feeling the erratic, loud, trepidous heartbeat that refused to settle in him. 

“Ma ‘itan, she’s very weak. I know you haven’t been close in a long time, but she is your intended mate. I need you to prepare yourself for the worst. Now go back to the battle.” 

“No. I’m staying here.”

Neteyam didn’t get scared often. A whole lifetime of being raised like a soldier made his skin as thick as an 'angtsìk’s, and little ever managed to get under it. You did. You had unmatched prowess to make him feel so many things, too many things, all too intense, all too powerful, all too overbearing. When he was young, all of them were good and pure, all exciting and hopeful - love. It was love. Now, he feels anger and resentment, vengeful spite and deep arousal, all of which poison his mind and make him a version of himself he hates. Hate. That’s it. It’s all hate, isn’t it? So if it is… why are his limbs trembling and eyes watering, why is his mind jumbled with all these memories, why has the blood coursing through his veins been irreparably polluted with so much deep, earth-shattering terror and grief at the thought of losing you? Why was there a crater in his chest where his heart usually resided when he imagined his life without you in it?

Maybe it's because, for better or for worse, you were a constant in his life. From the second your presence made its way to him, you never left. There hasn't been a day that he hasn't seen you, that he hasn't been in your vicinity, not a day in which you haven't trained together, side by side, friends before, enemies after, but always together. Your words, that he drowned for years, came back like an undying echo ringing in his ears.

"You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together..."

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah, what's the use?

More and more, it felt like you had been right all along. He didn't think about it for so long, so desperate in his attempts to hurt you like you had hurt him, to sour your life like how you soiled his most precious memories, all of you and him, all of a childhood long left behind, all of fantasies he's harboured at the time that long dissipated from the version of future he used to dream about. Nothing about his life now was how he once envisioned, and that was because of you. He would never forgive you, but he couldn't let you go, either. No matter how the visions differed from his current reality, he couldn't shake you, couldn't let you go. Because despite it all, he couldn't part with the girl that used to be his partner in crime, his training buddy, his best friend, his first flight.

"Are you ready?"

Neteyam watched in awe as you confidently nodded at his father, smiling as if the hardest challenge an Omaticaya Na'vi would ever undertake, one that most people did when they were much, much older, was nothing to you, like it was just another yarik hunt that you've done a thousand times before. You turned to him and the smile you gave him dazzled him, left him breathless, not a good thing for the trek he was about to undertake, but still, not something he would could ever find it in himself to be upset about. You turned your attention momentarily to the bowl of paint in your hands before you brought a finger to his face, completing the pattern that was the same as the one you were adorning, one that he painted on you.

You both took turns saying goodbye to everyone, paying special attention to the little bundle in Neytiri's arms. Neteyam couldn't believe this was his little sister, and couldn't believe how attentive you were with her, how careful and loving. Some of his personality must be rubbing off on you, because to the Sully family's surprise, you didn't drop Tuk once in the year she's been born. In fact, you haven’t dropped anything in the last couple of months, including yourself from high places, which used to be one of your favourite past times, and Neteyam couldn't help blush at the thought that he was the reason you were being a little more careful.

As expected, the climb was the hardest thing Neteyam ever put his body through, and he felt suddenly grateful for all the years of torturous training that now felt like a peaceful breeze of the wind in an otherwise unyielding hurricane. Still, seeing you in front of him, not once complaining, not in front of the multiple 15 to 19 year olds that were also taking their rite of passage today, not in front of your Olo'eyktan, made him push through, too. If you could do it, so could he. Because you would do it, so would he.

The rookery was hidden behind a waterfall, and Neteyam watched as one by one, the few Na'vi joining you both either failed or succeeded, and with each attempt, his fear grew stronger, his mind more restless. Eventually, it was his turn, and with a deep breath, he started walking towards the slippery ledge that would lead him to his fate. A hand on his chest not only stopped him in his tracks, but also stopped his heart momentarily, just momentarily, because before he knew it, it started booming again with enough intensity to dizzy him.

"Ma tsantu... you got this. Remember, you and I, we're meant t-"

"-to fall and rise together, I know." you smile, your fingers smoothing the deep frown that gave Neteyam a headache without even realising and he sighed, trying to calm his mind and soul, focusing on you and only you.

"Exactly. So you can't fall, because if you do, I'll have to follow you... and I don't intend to fall yet, Teyam. Not yet."

"How did this happen?"

"Oare... got shot. She's dead. She... fell. I couldn't catch her." I couldn't catch her...

Neteyam couldn't bear to look at the way his grandmother was ripping you apart, although he knew it was all with the purpose of putting you back together again. Her trainees, all girls he knew, some girls he knew more intimately than others, all flocked around you, with wet cloths and trays of balms and powders, of plants and tinctures, and it all hurt, the guilt of knowing to some extent, to a large extent, this was all his fault. This ongoing war between you, never-ending and harrowing, reached a nadir that resulted in the death of your ikran, in your accident, and indirectly, because of your removal and his from the battlefield, might result in the deaths of good na'vi men and women, all of whom had families and a life, and a future they would be robbed of.

Neteyam couldn't leave you and go back. If he did, he knew that much like you, he wouldn't be able to focus enough to matter, and the thought of his mother, of his father, losing one more loved one was too much to bear. Neteyam couldn't leave you, but he couldn't stay here either. It hurt, being here, watching flashes of the girl he hates intertwined with the girl he loved more than anything else in the world, it hurt, having to deal with feelings he buried deep down and memories that came to him like summer rain, uninterrupted and warm, but powerful enough to flood and leave damage their wake.

With one last look at your unconscious form, Neteyam left the village on the back of his Ikran, knowing there was one thing he needed to do, he had to do. His mind was overcome with agonising sorrow as Seze's mourning was felt through his entire being, and the full weight of what transpired came crashing down on him like a tidal wave he could do little to stop, but had to power through, hoping that by the end there was something left of his heart to go on. Oare, much like Seze, has been in his life every day for the last 7 years, and he loved her. She was playful and sweet, and she always played with him when he snuck out at night to give her pets and treats, refusing to let your declining relationship affect their bond. Oare was Seze's best friend, her companion and life partner, and Neteyam knew her death would affect his ikran for a long time, perhaps forever.

With a squeal that matched the banshee, Neteyam watched from the air, on the back of his new mount, his new friend, his new spirit sister, as you made Tsaheylu, and his heart, that has been barely beating in anxious fear, felt finally awake again.

"Ftang! Tam tam, tsìltsan 'eve." your smile was wide and relieved as your eyes searched the sky until they found his, and he swore he never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to feel so connected to a soul, so much so it felt like he could hear you, your heartbeat and your mind, like tsaheylu would have been redundant because he knew. He just knew.

"I did it, Teyam!"

"Yes, you did, Vi! Come, first flight seals the bond."

That day was Neteyam's happiest day. That memory is still something that he cherishes deeply, that he'll never be able to shake, that haunts him at night, that shakes his resolve whenever he's thinking of a new way to make you pay. That memory is still untarnished in his mind, and it will always remain so, especially today, as he's fastening Oare's lifeless form onto Seze, petting her one last time, allowing the tears he's been stubbornly pushing back this entire day to finally fall from his cheeks onto her face, almost like she was the one crying, one last time.

"I'm sorry, girl. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry that I beat you... again. You're gonna have to do much better than this to beat me, Teyam."

The floating rock you landed on, hours after you finished your Iknimaya, was alit with biofluorescence, the colours reflecting in your eyes and on your shiny skin, covered in a light layer of sweat from the flight.

"Give me a break, Vi. It's my first time doing this."

"Yeah, cause I've been doing it for ages." you say, chuckling and rolling your eyes. You prop your body on your elbows and point to the two banshees playing in the air with each other, a mass of ravelling green and purple, so beautiful, and so, so free.

"I can't take all the credit. She did most of the work. I love her already, Teyam. Do you have a name in mind for yours?"

Neteyam didn't have to think about it too much. Ever since he's first found out about the Iknimaya, a story told to him by his mother consolidated a name in his memory that he's never been able to forget.

"Seze. Like my mother's ikran that bravely gave her life in the war against the Sky People."

"That's pretty. And fitting. She's a beautiful flower."

"What about you?"

"Oare."

"Why?"

"I used to look at the moons every night and think I'm so far away from this, from my destiny, from who I've always known I was meant to be, the Iknimaya might as well have been the moon - unreachable, untouchable, a world away. And now, I'm here, with you, way past curfew, and we're gonna get in so much trouble and I couldn't care less because I did it, I reached the moon. And I did it with the only person I ever wanted to. So.. Oare."

"Thank you, Teyam. I learnt a lot from you in these years. Ever since I met you, I knew you were special. And I think, even without realising, I wanted to be more like you. I've looked up to you for so long, I don't even remember my life before the Sullys took me in. If I'm here today, it's because of you. You helped me become more temperate and understand the weight of my talent and my power, and that I have a responsibility to the clan, that this is bigger than me, and my life."

Neteyam was taken aback at your words. You were never this forthcoming with your feelings normally, but he couldn't say he wasn't happy about it. He was so happy.

"I love you, Vi. I may have made you more responsible, but you made me better. Braver. More creative, more inventive. I almost couldn't finish the Iknimaya today, and then one of your crazy ideas popped in my head, and it worked. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't have done this without you, without your influence in my life. Thank you."

You smiled softly, and put your head on his chest, just watching the dance of the banshees, and he prayed that this moment would never end.

"I guess we really are meant to be together then, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess we are."

Neteyam placed Oare in the village, where the elders and Tsa'hik would be able to perform Eywa's funeral rituals, before making his way back to the tent. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him as he was met with your drowsy, blood-shot eyes, so much sadness in them, it broke him. They were so different then the ones that have haunted Neteyam's mind today, so devoid of the innocence and love he remembered, so filled with anger and spite and hurt, so much like his own, such a bitter reminder that the past was only that, the past, and there was nothing left of you, or of him, of the love you shared and the future he envisioned. With one last memory, Neteyam felt the walls surrounding his heart, thick and unflinching, growing harder with every year since the Iknimaya, fortify yet again, as one last memory emerged uninvited and reminded him of why, despite your history, Neteyam would never look at you the same way again.

And I know whatever this is ain't love So I'm goin' I'm gonna let you go, let you go

"I'm going to go back to my tent. I had too much of a good day to spoil it by Jake yelling at me for 2 hours straight. I'd rather save the pleasure for tomorrow."

"That's so unfair, why do I have to suffer by myself?"

A shrug was all the answer you felt was necessary to give him, and he felt his heart drop at the notion of going to his family's tent so late, so far past curfew, without your much more argumentative presence, that his father could never resist. He walked cautiously, silently, praying that his family would be asleep so he could just sneak in and postpone the yelling until tomorrow. To his surprise, he heard whispered voices coming from right outside the tent, whispers he quickly recognised as his father and grandmother's.

"... that it should be her. She should be the next Olo'eykte. That she is the most deserving of it, has been since she was young. It took a long time to see it for myself, but... I don't know. Maybe he.."

...Olo'eykte? You? Neteyam couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe how quickly his father was willing to replace him, how quickly he considered you better and more worthy of the title than his own son, than the rightful heir. You were both 12, for Eywa's sake. How could a decision be made so early? Neteyam felt tears gather in his eyes, the betrayal's sting more painful than a kali'weya's, and yet, still, a part of him knew this already. A part of him couldn't find it in him to be upset, because you were better. And you deserved to lead, you deserved to fulfil your destiny, that was made for greatness, made for the songs and the ballads, made for history.

"It's Neteyam's birthright, Jakesulli. It wouldn't be right, no matter how worthy the girl is. What about a mateship? They have been inseparable for years anyhow."

"Ah, she would never want to be Tsa'hik. And she wouldn't be good at it anyway. Besides..." the silence felt like it dragged on forever, and he clung on to it, afraid of what was waiting for him at the end of it.

"I mentioned it to her. She said she... doesn't want to mate with Neteyam. That she couldn't ever love him the way a mate would. She was... very adamant about it."

As Neteyam looked into your eyes, those words forever embedded in his psyche, playing in his ears like a cacophony of sounds that rattled him every time he saw you, even so many years later, solidified in him by all the times you continued to hurt him, continued flaunting your relationships and skills to him, your connection and closeness to his own family, that sometimes he felt like he didn't belong in anymore, like he was the adoptive one... he was reminded that every time, it hurt, every day, it broke him further, and those eyes that were once his guidepost and the reason he got up in the morning, were now empty and bleak, and enough to make anger bubble in his soul once more, until it drowned everything else, until it was all that was left.

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah what's the use? I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That I can win this stupid thing called love

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch @musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt

[strawberri-blonde]

He’s Mine - Neteyam

Photo credit to the beautiful , the amazing @cinetrix

Summary: Some people think you don’t deserve Neteyam and you have them begging for forgiveness

Warning: Graphic content. Blood. Fighting. Rough language. Dirty Talk. Illusions to smut. Breeding kink? Lmk if you see anything else.

Masterlist

Everyone knew that you and Neteyam were tied together. Every since the first hunt the two of you went on with other Na’vi your age, who was trying to prove their self worth to the clan. You and Neteyam were paired together and you two managed to hunt down a hammerhead titanothere also known as an ‘angtsìk. For two young adult Na’vi, to hunt these massive creatures at such an age, the clan knew you’d be a perfect fit. Even Eywa showed her blessing from her seedlings. Whenever you and Neteyam would take a midnight stroll in the beautiful forest the essence seeds danced from the both of you like they were celebrating your Union. However, the both of you weren’t mated yet. Neteyam was a traditional man and that made you love him even more. “Just a few more days, yawne.” He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your forehead in front of anyone to see.

At first, it was weird to see the two of you together because of your hard exterior. Your father Tsu’tey had raised you to be a strong warrior who’d let no one see your emotions and you did just that. But Neteyam was the exception to this rule. When y’all were alone you’d always shower him with kisses, you even prepared all the meals, making him lunch then wrapping them in razor palm leaves to insure the freshness and the thick leaves should keep the food safe for your mate to eat whenever he pleases. You even loved helping him braid and wash his hair. You couldn’t help wash his body despite you begging some nights, because like I mentioned earlier Neteyam is a traditional man. He wanted to wait until the next eclipse and you were more than happy to wait for him. Your only goal in life was to make your future mate happy, that’s why it had your blood fuming in rage as you listened to the group of Na’vi who attended your age group in the training sessions to speak down about your feelings for the future Omaticaya Olo’eyktan.

Your lips curled downward, and your upper lip lifted, exposing your sharp fangs. A soft growl pushed its way from your throat as the group of three, a man and two women, spoke harsh words.

“She doesn’t even knowledge him in public.” Seeing the shorter stature and the slicked-back braids you immediately knew it was Katara, she was a beautiful Omaticaya woman with a strong forehead, and even stronger jawline. She always had her lustful eyes on your mate.

“Yeah it’s like she has this cold shoulder to everyone.”Azusa was Katara's friend, and the two girls were like sisters. Although she had softer features, and soft curls to match, you couldn't deny that she was a smart warrior. Her mind made up for her lack of physical strength, sometimes.

“She just thinks she’s better than everyone just because she’s a good warrior.” Bolin. The name left a bad taste in your mouth. He was always jealous that you were smarter and stronger than him. He especially hated that you denied him courtship. How could you, as a strong Omaticaya woman, ever mate with someone who was less than you?

“I bet Neteyam is scared of her. That’s why they’re not mated yet.”

“He wouldn’t be scared of me. Um, the things I’d do-“

“Katara.” You listened to Azusa’s playful scream as you crouched low, stalking your prey, making no noise to be heard.

“What who wouldn’t want the Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan to keep them nice and plump full of his babies. I’d proudly walk around with his seed running down my legs. ”

That was the final straw, and it only got better that you were in the forest, away from the village, where even if someone were to scream and plead for their life, no one would hear them. It was as if Eywa had intended it to be that way.

As rage filled your entire soul, your heart started to beat like a war drum. Your blood pulsed, feeling it in your veins. They were full and ready, as the adrenaline hit you like a stampede of hammerheads pushing through narrow paths in the Pandora forest.

You were smart with your attack. Bolin was your first prey, because you knew to always take out the bigger “threat” first. Hiding in the leaves until the last second, you grabbed your knife and slashed the backs of his legs right in the creases of his knees, sending him onto his kneecaps with his screams echoing in the air. But not for too long, as you grabbed the back of his head to slam his nose right into your knee. Not only did you do it once, but you did it again and again, until you knew he was unconscious. You couldn’t feel pain, only the most intense anger.

“Bolin.” Azusa screamed in terror while Katara grabbed her knife ready to defend herself. Both of the girls eyes widen. When you're scared, your eyes might widen and your pupils will dilate. This is because your body is preparing for a potential threat and needs to take in as much information as possible. Seeing the animalistic act that you just did to their friend, it had the Na’vi women beyond terrified.

Despite originally planning to save Katara for last, you acted quickly and went for her since she had the knife. Perhaps you still had a chance to achieve your goal because fortunately, you had trained with her, so you knew her moves and her faults. Katara tends to step with her swing, which makes her stances unbalanced and easy to overcome. When the shorter woman lunged forward, you blocked her hit by swinging your arm clockwise while holding a tight fist. Azusa tried to tackle you meanwhile you quickly stomped down on Katara's shin with your heel, distracting her, and spun around to grab Azusa's swinging arms, manipulating them behind her back. “Drop the knife or I broke her neck.”

With your left hand, you held onto her wrists and used the other hand to grab Azusa’s knife that she always kept by her thigh. You pressed the blade against her throat, causing the woman to sob in fear. A sinister grin appeared on your heart-shaped lips, which Neteyam loved so much. “No, no, no, please,” she pleaded.

“She’s my sister.” You pressed the knife rather allowing blood to drip between her small nonexisting breasts. No good for mothering babies, you thought then Katara words from early flashed in your brain.

“-who wouldn’t want Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan keep them nice and plump full of his babies-“ “the things I’d do-“

As you let out a loud hiss that sounded more like a roar, mimicking that of a Palulukan, which means 'dry mouth bringer of fear,' Katara's throat tightened up to the point where she was gasping for air. She begged you, “Y/n, please.” You cut Azusa higher on her neck, causing both girls to cry out in fear and pain.

“Drop.” You spat out. “The fucking knife.” The English word felt like Azusa’s knife had pierced both of their ears as well.

“Okay.” Katara cried out throwing the knife where Bolin laid face down still unconscious. “Okay, Y/N. I-I,” the Nav’i raised her hands in a surrender as she strubbled into the base of a huge tree. “Why are you doing this?” Seeing her finally find some composure to form her words you hissed another time at her stupidity. Slashing down, you cut Azusa’s blue skin for the third time accidentally making it look like claw-work from a predator.

“Neteyam is mine.” Your voice was carried strong but in a low-pitched, guttural sound; almost in an ominous tone. Your voice sounded like it came from the depths of the demon plant called earth, with a slow and deliberate pace that sends shivers down Azusa and Katara spines. “And when I’m done with you,” you could feel Azusa shaking terribly as you spoke. “You’ll never be able to look at him again.” The menacing tone in your voice was powerful. Then suddenly as Azusa started to shake she went limp in your arms.

“Azusa.” Katara pleaded as the girl’s turquoise eyes rolled in the back of her head.

You pulled on her loose curls to tilt her head back to see in fact that she’d passed out. “Pathetic.” You spit in the girl’s face then pushed her to the ground next to Bolin. “You girls.” You tainted aiming the weapon at the scared written expression. “You whores think you are privileged enough for Neteyam’s semen?” You slashed at Katara’s face, making the girl cry harder, causing her tears to mix with her blood stained cheek. You grabbed her throat in your hands enjoying the way it felt to have her life in her hands. “Eywa blessed us.” You cut her again this time on her jaw line damaging her one good feature. “I’m his capable mate-”

“Y/n.” Hearing that heavenly voice, you turned in the direction while maintaining your grip on Katara’s neck.

“Teyam?” Seeing the worry on his face caused you to halt your movements but your grip didn’t waiver. You needed her to know that, that godly man was yours.

He held his bow tightly and stood in a stiff posture, clearly in protective mode. “Ma’Y/n, when I didn't see you at our spot, I went tracking,' he said. He then caressed your cheek with his free hand, not paying attention to Katara. Hearing that he tracked you down and was waiting for you made your stomach feel warm. “And seeing this,” his amber eyes fired with rage as he looked at the bodies on the floor. He then turned to Katara, who was still pinned to the tree, and asked, “Yawne, did they hurt you?”

Of course, your sweet Neteyam knew that something had to have happened for you to lose your composure like this. It wasn't like you to act out; you kept to yourself and didn't allow anyone to read you. That's why so many people thought that you were cold, and to be honest, you didn't care. You only cared about what Neteyam thought of you. “Neteyam-“ you changed your venomous tone to a sweet one, but it was cut off by Katara sobbing.

“Are you kidding me? She’s an animal.” This cause you both to let out a hiss, Neteyam’s from defending you while yours was from anger. You stabbed her through the hand, sinking the knife that was made from an ikrans sharpened claw into the wood of the tree, despite her struggles and screams.

“Neteyam.” You snarled looking at your prey with harden eyes. “Tell her.” The Omaticaya Prince lovingly gripped the side of your head letting his thumb stroke your temple. And before he could ask you to explain you continued, “tell her what you’re going to do to me in 13 days on the night of the eclipse. Tell her.”

As the realization hit him, heat flushed his face, and he understood why you were acting like this and why this whole situation came to be. You were staking your claim on him. Neteyam wasn't dumb; he knew Katara had 'feelings' for him, but they never mattered to him. His amber eyes had always been on you ever since you won against him in a fight when you were both 12. Since then, he trained to be your worthy mate, someone you would trust to grow with and be a strong father for your future kids. He remembers praying to Eywa every night for her, to see that you would be the perfect match for him. You were a leader in his eyes, a strong one.

So it's fair to say Neteyam has always loved you, but it was the way you were claiming him, defending him from other possible threats. In a strange way, he felt so loved, so seen that not even his family or friends could make him feel that way. You loved him so much that you were willing to hurt for him. You were willing to kill for him. A feeling washed over him like none other, that could only be described as one thing: lust. It was a primal feeling. He let out a low growl that was like music to your ears. “Y/n, you know that if I wasn't a traditional man, I'd take you right here.” You couldn't help but moan as his words drowned out Katara's cries. Neteyam never looked at the pathetic woman once; all he could see was you. “I'd bend you over, using that pathetic excuse as an Omaticaya clan member as a step stool. I'd keep you stuffed to the brim,' his lips were barely touching yours now. 'Letting anyone see, so they know who you belong to.' Your lips parted as you began to grow absolutely drenched in your loincloth, making the material stick to you.

“But," you let out a whimper as he pulled you away from the girl, causing your hands to rest on his chest. "My respect and love for you outgrows my deepest desires, Ma'Y/n." Neteyam traced the necklace you wore, the first thing he gave you as a courting gift, and even though he's given you many wonderful treasures, this one is your favorite. To you, it signifies your love for each other. "So, in 13 days, we're going to celebrate our love in front of the clan by eating all sorts of amazing foods, and as tradition, I'm going to kill you the most wonderful beast and serve it to you along with the most delicious fruit that I'll gather. And maybe we'll dance," Neteyam said with his infamous toothy smile. You kissed his hands that cupped your face. "Then I'll take you to our spot," a waterhole that overlooked the Tree of Souls. "We will make Tsaheylu then I'll ravish you, darling." You groaned out loud, going to kiss him, but he pulled away, still keeping you in his arms as he pushed Katara back against the tree, noticing that she was trying to free her hand from the tree. "What?" Neteyam hissed out in annoyance. "You think you're getting out of this?"

“Neteyam, please.” Katara cried out but he wasn’t going to listen. She disrespected you. “I understand now.” His primal instinct grew as the need to protect you washed over the man.

He growled as he wrapped his large hand around the girl’s throat squeezing until her blue face turned purple. “No, I don’t think you do.” You nuzzled against his chest seeing him stand up for you. “I’m going to split her open with my cock and spill my cum in her over and over again, until my scent is engraved in her skin.” You slipped a hand on his waist scared that you actually might touch yourself if not careful. “And she’ll carry all of my heir until I say we have enough. And if you think you could come between us then I guess I’ll have to kill you.” As his grip tightened Katara started to beg for her life.

“No, no, Neteyam, I understand. I understand!” She wailed making you smirk at her demise. “You’re together and I actually thank that your perfect for one another. I promise.” Neteyam liked her words.

“Keep begging.”

“I’m not even half the woman Y/n is. I swear I’m not. I’m pathetic.” The girl sobbed making her tears wash away most of the blood that the cuts caused. “Ple-please mighty warrior. I’ll be the first one to cheer as you both enter a room. I promise. Promise so, so, so good.” The way that she was chocking on her tears satisfied your rage so much. Neteyam nodded his head pointing at her chest.

“I won’t kill you.” This had Katara sob from happiness until the man spoke again. “Unless you tell anyone what happened here today. Or if me, or my mate, hear one disrespectful thing coming from your thin lips. Got that. Yeah, actually don’t even look at her wrong, or I’ll kill you and dump your body from the shy, so there’s nothing left of you when you hit the unforgiving rocks from the Hallelujah Mountains. Do I make myself clear?” The woman nodded but it wasn’t good enough. “Do I make myself clear?” This time Neteyam’s voice rang through the forest causing birds to fly away from how threatening it sounded.

“Yes sir. I’m forever sorry for my behavior Neteyam. A-and Y/n pl-please accept my deepest apologies.” You untangled yourself away from Neteyam tapping his lower back signaling him to back up. Katara sighed from relief thinking she was free, but you then trapped her end with your palms resting on the bark on the either side of her head.

“One move Katara, the slightest look or even a giggle and Neteyam’s not the one to worry about.” Again, that same fear entered her eye from earlier. It satisfied you enough where you pushed back into Neteyam’s arms. As he circled his forearms around you, you turned to face your handsome warrior. You stood on your tippy-toes and gripped his hair underneath it all from the back of his head right on the nape of his neck, Neteyam knew this move, so he could only do one thing; meet you halfway. As your lips met in an intense, coveted way, you felt this electric surge through your body. You were addicted to his soft lips and the way your tongues always fought for battle. It had the both of your insides burn hot. The desire was almost too much to handle. It hurt with the burning sensation of need. Need for him to be inside you, and the need of your wet walls to be painted of nothing but him.

Neteyam was the first to pull away almost laughing which instantly had you feeling giddy. Not sparring the girl another look, Neteyam pulled you into his arms and began to walk the both of you in the direction of your waterhole. “Not now, my beautiful flower.” He kissed your head after you stepped over Azusa’s body. “Not yet.” Giggling to yourself you grabbed Neteyam’s hand and let the strong warrior pull you away from your troubles. As your eyes connected to the ground, you couldn’t help but look back at the three Na’vi for one last time to bask in your pride. Katara didn’t dare move and you knew she wouldn’t until you both were out of sight. Good. Bolin was still unconscious which wasn’t a surprise. You did kinda smash his head in quite a few times. Then as you looked at Azusa, you saw an eye immediately shut, when they noticed you staring. The girl faked passing out. Huh, maybe she was a smart girl after all.

Hey guys my first neteyam post and it wouldn’t be with @cinetrix this person truly inspires me to write. Also if there’s a speeding error or anything that looks wrong just lmk politely and I’ll change it!

~ Caroline

[eywa-eveng]

ɪ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ʟᴇғᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ɴᴇʏᴛɪʀɪ & ᴊᴀᴋᴇ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴼᴹᴬᵀᴵᴷᴬᵞᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 12.2k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – mentions of character death, mentions of war, ptsd, unrequited love

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ – A bit of a non-linear storyline here, but nothing too confusing.

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @ladylovegood-69 @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz @ghost-lantern @calums-betch @crazy4books1 @meladollsims @yeosxxx @sillyfreakfanparty

Light blooms underfoot, swelling and fading like ripples over water as faint syuratan rises to meet the shadows gathering beneath the night sky. The last dregs of amber sunlight pierce through the treetops like arrows, the warm light glowing like a flame behind the silhouetted canopy. The shades of firelight fade to blue darkness as the forest swallows the last whispers of daylight into the darkened horizon. A path towards the clan’s new settlement is carved in pale green light, each step echoed by the glowing moss blanketing the tree limbs. The newly lit plants burn brighter at the slightest touch, flaring as a breeze brushes through the trees, shuffling one leaf against another until entire branches are bright as torchlight. And when the wind settles the air is filled with the sweet taste of nectar, the hanging plants swarmed with insects that fill the night with their buzzing song. There’s always music in the forest, the sounds of life thrumming through the air like the distant voices of a forgotten lullaby. The chittering of nantang and the shrieking of riti, the thundering footfalls of ’angtsìk. 

The noises of the night build as the stars begin to dot the sky, swallowing your nearly soundless footfalls as you weave through the foliage, running along the twisted roots bridging the distance between the trees. The ground rushes up to meet you as you jump from the high perch, ears twitching towards a disturbance somewhere nearby that makes your landing sound like stones rolling down a hill, fumbling and clumsy. Loud enough to be worth a closer look as voices begin to break through the foliage, terse with agitation. Your feet are quick enough to catch the tail end of the confrontation. 

Hunters. Some mounted and others on foot. A mix of Na’vi and uniltìrantokx, separated by dignity and appearance. The sawtute are easy to parse from trueborn Na’vi, even at a distance. They’re like fiery red blossoms in a sea of yellow flowers, so plainly out of place. Speaking their human language and wearing their human clothes even when most of their kind have long since been banished from Pandora. The night had been clear when they left and a new star bloomed in the darkness, bright as a white flame in the deep blue sky. Most claim not to mourn the loss but others seem less inclined to surrender themselves to the Na’vi way of life. It is clear that the topic of disturbance involves such cultural differences as you creep closer. 

Someone cuts a biting remark, gruff and steeped in a thickening accent the more terse their words become. An uniltìrantokx returns the venom-stricken tone with their own heavy accent, Na’vi words sounding as intimidating as a child when spoken on such a foreign tongue. One of the mounted hunters cracks a smile, a sardonic laugh slipping past his lips. These avatars are like humans. Babies that need teaching especially after being so suddenly stripped away from their system of support. There aren’t many of them left in their place of human dwelling. That strange metal cave system that spirals out like the bloated roots of some shimmery plant. These are supposed to be the truly loyal humans. The kind humans left after the rot and ruin of the rest was scraped away. There are kind souls that remain but some are far too stubborn, like clay dug up from a riverbed and left to dry before it was fully molded into shape. They’re stiff and unchanging despite the offers to be taught your ways of life. 

It is a fair argument they are having from what you can hear at the fringes of the clearing. The avatars are being far too liberal with their bows. Eager arrows lead to messy kills and there is no reason to cause unneeded suffering for a lack of discipline. An injured animal will run if it is able and sawtute are far less adept at traversing these forests. It would be easy for them to lose their intended kill and leave the animal to suffer with an arrow in its hide. A mounted hunter says as much, pa’li unsteady beneath her, the direhorse churning up dirt beneath her hooves as her rider’s anger is surely reflected through tsaheylu. When the humans have nothing to say back the silence stretches like a rope pulled taut, slowly fraying under the strain until it snaps and the leader of the hunting party gives the gruff order to return home. 

The word still sets an ache in your chest like pressing against a bruise, dull and throbbing as “home” has changed shape. You follow in the trail of light left by the hunting party. Not towards Hometree that always stood above the forest like a fist punching towards the sky, but to grounded dwellings flanking the humans’ nearly abandoned home. The hunting party continues on after passing through the newly made village, escorting the avatars back to their massive metal kelku. Their refusal to learn has stunted their ability to be trusted in the forest alone. Truly like children that need to be guided lest they be met with an accident that could’ve been prevented with proper teachings. 

The sounds of the forest give way to a din of voices as green syuratan fades to bright orange firelight. It sounds much the same as Kelutral had, conversations mingled with laughter as everyone gathers around cookfires for their nightly meals. It’s far less communial with the separate homes of woven fabrics over wooden frames. Different sizes denoting the size of the family living within. Your own is modestly small, just large enough for one. Truly it was meant for an avatar if they felt more inclined to immerse themselves in village life but it went unused for so long that you took the honor of christening it as your own, sleeping here most days despite having mates of your own and a more homely kelku to return to. It’s been days of careful avoidance despite the olo’eyktan and tsakarem’s greatest efforts to draw you back to their side. 

Unexpectedly, it is Jake that has been more insistent rather than Neytiri. That was something you hadn’t thought to consider a possibility. His longing was enough to make you avoid any member of the clan altogether. You’ve shared no more than a few words with anyone in the days since Jake began sending his warriors chasing after your tail in an attempt to coax you back home. They’d come to you bearing gifts of delicate bracelets made with the rarest beads and feathered hair ornaments of the brightest colors, lingering for a moment to ponder over your rejection before trailing back to their leader with a defeated hunch to their shoulders. 

The fire you tend to is only just large enough for your purposes. This kelku is set every so slightly apart from the rest and a light flickering at the fringes of the village is sure to draw unneeded attention whether it’s a kind elder sending children to be sure you have enough to eat or another of Jake’s men coming to present you with another of his finely made gifts. His effort is wasted. Pretty adornments aren’t enough to stitch the wound that’s been scored across your very soul. So much has happened in so little time. So quickly that you were hardly given a moment to mourn. Even as the days fall away to the past with the rise and fall of the sun it still feels like a wound is festering in your heart, refusing to heal as old memories poke and prod, stinging in the back of your mind. No, a new necklace or freshly made arrows won’t be enough to soothe the pain you’re suffering. Everyone might have begun to move on, picking up the fragments of what was left behind to rebuild something new, something better, but you stayed there. Every night, in your dreams, the sky is raining ash and the People are screaming. 

The hunger leaves you as the taste of salt invades your mouth, memories of uncounted tears souring your appetite. The small fire is snuffed and the food is set aside with the intention to eat it should you wake with hunger pangs in the dead of night. Sleep has been an elusive thing in the time since the fall of Hometree. Something terrifying as your mind reminds you of the pain and betrayal. Over and over. And there is no place of solace to return to. No Utral Aymokriyä where you might hear some shred of happiness from those that have gone before you. Everything has been torn apart and reknit in a new shape and the only one that seems to truly notice the strangeness of it all is you. But life must go on. A tree does not stop growing when clouds cover the sun. 

Sleep is expectedly fitful, full of stuttered moments of jolted wakefulness that find your cheeks wet with tears. And when the hour is bright enough that you can banish any attempts at resting you rise and pad off into the pinkish light of dawn, nibbling on your cold dinner as you trail off into the forest before the rest of the village has time to wake. As usual there is no direction to your walking, no destination in mind. The only thought is to be away from the village and all the people that seem so foreign to you now. Not only are there more humans and avatars mingling with the People but even those that you were once close to seem to have a different face. And that is only those that remain. The rest were lost, gone to a place you can only reach in short grasping moments. 

Home is far away, in distance and in feeling. The new settlement feels nothing like home even as the clan has begun to rebuild. So many ancestral pieces were lost in the fall of Hometree. Totems and precious items passed down and preserved between the generations of the Omatikaya. Once you could touch something and know that hundreds of hands, long before your time, had touched the same place. Your favorite had been the wooden looms worn soft and smooth by the gentle hands of weavers that passed their craft down to their children and to their children until the knowledge found its way into your hands. All the memories since the time of the First Songs that had survived in the safety of Hometree, gone in an instant. Everything that the Omatikaya clan was, washed away like footprints in sand. 

Now these trees seem so foreign as you traverse through the morning light. In moving to settle closer to the humans’ dwelling the clan has been distanced from the lands you’ve known since birth. Hometree may have fallen but the estrangement seems unnecessary. Maybe to fledgling eyes the forest looks the same but here there are plants that didn’t grow close to Hometree. You’d grown up learning every patch of ferns and every bed of flowers and now you’d need to learn it all again. New berries that prefer the unfiltered sunlight where the humans cleared the trees away and new landmarks to lead you from one place to another in the sprawling forest. Moving was necessary but Jake chose not to claim a new Hometree for the clan and as olo’eyktan his word has become law. With Eytukan and Tsu’tey gone the burden of leading the clan has fallen to Toruk Makto. So strange that only a year ago he hadn’t even existed and now he is leading the People as if he was born to bear the honor when he only just passed his iknimaya. 

The ground is cold underfoot, drops of dew seeping into your skin and sending shivers up your back. The feeling is enough to keep your mind steady, to keep the memories at bay. On any given day you’re likely to slip into the past and be lost in your own mind, like a vision from a Spirit Tree. It seems memories are all you have as comfort as of late. With so much change, the past is the only thing that has remained steady. In your mind you can pretend that Hometree still stands, that Jake never arrived to complicate everything. But he has and here you stand, lonely in a foreign corner of the forest, wishing desperately that you were able to unravel the knot that’s been made of your life. What is so wrong with you that you can’t find happiness in the peace that’s been made now that the humans have been defeated. One war has ended and yet another wages inside you with no end in sight. 

The loneliness eats away at you but the alternative of acceptance seems so wholly unappealing, like eating a spoiled fruit. Resigning yourself to the same budding happiness the clan has been enjoying in the time since the final battle against the humans seems so strange after nearly a lifetime of fighting and uncertainty. Humans were on Pandora long before you were born and your childhood was spent in Grace’s schoolhouse with the looming threat of the tenuous bonds slowly fraying as the humans took more liberties with the lands that were not theirs to pillage and destroy. 

A sound rustles in the trees behind you, a soft brushing of leaves that could be nothing more than a breeze through the underbrush, but your bow is drawn towards the sound in an instant. The tension balled like a fist around your heart eases as a familiar face emerges through the foliage, but doesn’t abate completely as Jake steps into the light. His steps are slow and deliberate as if he were approaching a wounded animal but you hiss at her even still, embarrassed that you’d been so distracted in your thoughts that you lost track of your surroundings. Had you been paying attention you would’ve caught his scent before he made a sound. The same scent that’s always clung to Neytiri’s skin because she favors cooking with firewood that is more fragrant than most, making her food a hint sweeter when she eats it. It’s a smell that used to offer comfort but now it’s only the wisp of another memory that was burned to ash the moment Jake arrived to the clan. 

What would’ve changed if it hadn’t been you and Neytiri tasked with teaching him? Perhaps you wouldn’t have found yourself tangled in a mating bond shared between three people. A crowd compared to the traditional two. 

“What do you want?” You ask, lowering your bow even as your voice still bristles with hostility. 

Jake stalls in his approach. “What did I do, baby? What’s wrong?” In the time since he took up the mantle as olo’eyktan, Jake has begun to fully immerse himself in the ways of the People with more vigor than he had even before the fall of Hometree. He speaks in Na’vi when he can manage it but slips back into English when his tongue trips over an unknown word. But one word he’s never let go of is “baby.” A human term of endearment–not just a word for a newborn child–he’d explained once. Like yawne or paskalin it’s meant to show affection between mates. And despite that being what you are to each other you feel unsettled by the innocent word. 

He takes a step closer that you reward with your own backwards retreat. His brows pinch, ears drooping as his hands reach out as if he can bridge the gap between you with a simple touch. You’re worlds away from each other even as he stands so close. 

An uniltìrantokx, an alien. A human wearing the false face of one of the People. Yet he is also Na’vi, a son of the Omatikaya. He bears the title of olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto. He’s so close and yet so far. Once you would’ve met him in the middle, your hand reaching toward him. But now, knowing what he’s done…. Forgiveness is the farthest thing from your mind. Whatever friendship, whatever affection you’d once had for him has burned away to an aching emptiness. And even before it had begun to slowly unravel, thread by thread, breaking apart until you were left with a tenuous bond at best. Before Jake, before Sylwanin’s death, Neytiri had been yours. You understood her duty to the clan following her sister’s death. It was not her desire to become tsakarem, no nobility in the decision being made for her at the hands of the sawtute. Killing and taking with no remorse. She was betrothed to Tsu’tey and you accepted it as the way of things. 

Jake’s introduction to the clan had been tumultuous at best, but as Neytiri’s closest companion you found yourself joining in on their lessons. And watching her fall in love with someone that wasn’t you. At least, with Tsu’tey there had only been friendship. A mutual agreement to not disappoint the clan’s expectations despite their hearts belonging to another. With Jake, she had no such reservations. Neytiri loved him. Loves him. Yet she can’t let you go. Neither of them can. So now it is your time to do as duty suggests, even if your heart aches with the effort to pretend to accept Jake into your heart for all he is, for all he’s done. Banishing the humans from Pandora after so many years of suffering might’ve been enough for others, but when you look at him you see flames. 

“Everything you touch is destroyed.” The words slip out unbidden, before you can stop the bitterness from leaking off your lips and Jake stills as if you’ve struck him. The shock only lasts for a moment before he’s rushing towards you, arm winding around your waist as his four-fingered hand cups your cheek. The tears are unexpected as he wipes the wetness from your eyes. When did you start to cry? So long ago, truly. It seems the tears never stop, only taking brief moments of reprieve before stinging at your eyes once more. It feels like you’re being shattered, a river crystal smashed against a rock as glittering shards fly in every direction. Impossible to collect and rebuild. But Jake tries, so desperate does he seem to want to hold you together in his arms even as you come apart at the seams. You fight against him. Hissing and clawing like a hunted animal trying to preserve its life. Some innate piece of your mind knowing that a man like him is dangerous. 

Sawtute. Uniltìrantokx. The words are synonymous with death and the unknown. And Jake has proved that no matter how close you become, friends can turn to enemies in the blink of an eye. Lovers can turn to strangers. Happiness can wither into a type of sadness that never dissipates. Still, Jake tries to keep you together in his arms. Whispering and pleading, trying to soothe your sobbing. So long have you spent simply walking forward, one step at a time with only brief moments to think about how far you’ve come. But with those few words you’ve turned back to see all that was left behind and it’s tearing away at you. 

The ground is cold beneath your knees, the chill shivering through you as you fall. Jake hasn’t let you go, still keeping his arms around you as if you’ll turn to ash if he looks away for even a moment. Perhaps you will and wouldn’t it be better if you did? What is left for you now after so much has been taken? Everything has been stripped away. Friends, family. The few things that you thought would always be yours. Gone in an instant. 

You try to speak through the thickness in your throat, voice rough as stone when the words finally come out. “Get away.” Jake doesn’t seem to hear you but you say it again and again as you struggle to your feet. “Get away! Get away from me!” 

All you want is for things to be as they were. But you’re longing for a life you’ve never gotten to live. The humans were here long before you were. You’ve never known a life where they weren’t lingering just out of sight, corrupting your home to fit their alien desires. It burns in your chest, this desire to return to some semblance of normalcy and the knowing that everything in your life has always been precarious, balanced on the edge of a cliff. It seems that now you’ve finally fallen and there’s no knowing what will meet you at the bottom. Jake wants to catch you. You can see the desperation in his eyes as he tries to hold you, hear it in his voice as he begs you to stay with him. 

You’re here in mind and body, but your soul feels like it’s been gone for so long. Left behind in the smoldering remains of Hometree, left behind on the battlefield. Now you’ve only been living because you hadn’t truly died. And everyone has been pretending you’re still the same as you were. Jake is pretending you’re still the same woman he met all those months ago. Had it truly been a year since an ignorant dreamwalker had come stumbling into Hometree? He’d been nothing then. A new kind of uniltìrantokx that needed to be studied. A warrior in a new, untrained body. A chore for Neytiri as Mo’at dictated that it would be her that had to teach him the ways of the clan. Of course, she had made it your responsibility to assist her in the endeavor, ever grateful for every moment spent together even if it involved teaching a man the things a child would know. 

Truly, you’ve all changed since that moment. Jake has learned. Body and mind, he’s learned to walk as a true Na’vi does. It is clear that in his heart he is one of the People yet there’s still doubt in your mind. How, if he was so committed to the clan, had he let those monsters burn down your home with barely a word of warning? Yes, he led the battle to seek revenge and cull the plague of humans from Pandora, but if he had such determination why had he not done it sooner? Humans are secretive, duplicitous. Things that Na’vi had no concept of before their arrival. Your hearts are true and open. Yet Jake still had things to hide even after he became a son of the Omatikaya. Trusting him now feels like a mistake. Neytiri might’ve moved past it but you can’t find it in yourself to open your heart to such pain once more. 

The woman you loved has turned into someone you can’t recognize. Relaxing so easily into the days of peace even in the shadow of all that you’ve both lost. While your heart turned cold hers seems to have blossomed, open with a soft sort of hope. The humans are gone, the People are safe. So why can’t you move on with everyone else?

Jake touches your arm again, fingers tracing from the shape of your wrist up to your shoulder. The touch feels foreign after avoiding him for so long. It isn’t the distressed grasping as he tries to soothe your tears. It’s softer, less confining. 

“Let me help, baby. How can I help?” 

“Leave me alone.” He’s already shaking his head before you finish the words. 

“No. Don’t push me away, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes, I just want my girl back.” Back? Had you ever truly been his? 

It had been a mistake to not close your heart to Neytiri when she was promised to Tsu’tey. Had you been strong enough then to smother the seed of childhood affection, to rob it of rain and sun until it withered and died, perhaps you wouldn’t be standing here with tears burning in your eyes. It would’ve taken less strength then to do what feels impossible now. A stone has turned to a mountain far beyond your strength to move. Jake seems to notice your hesitance, his eyes flitting over your face for any crack he might be able to use as a way past your protective shell. He seems to find it, reaching over your shoulder to brush his fingers over the length of your tswin. He draws it forward with careful reverence, pressing a kiss over the braided hair before looking at you once more. It’s doubtless that he’s thinking of that night beneath the light of the Tree of Voices. 

A mistake if ever you’ve made one. 

Eclipse is close at hand when Neytiri broaches the thought of taking Jake to see the Utraya Mokri. 

“He is a son of the Omatikaya now,” she says gently, as if too much eagerness would startle you away from the idea. “Tonight would be the perfect night for his first commune with Eywa.” It is traditional for the first commune to happen soon after birth when memories are likely no more than colors and sounds and feelings. Jake is far past the age of first commune but as an outsider he hasn’t been allowed anywhere near such sacred places. When she sees your hesitation, Neytiri’s excitement softens. 

“Yawne, he is ready. He has learned and proven himself. Do you still doubt his heart?” You do, still so weary of humans. No matter how kind, the thought of ever fully trusting a human picks at the old wound left by Sylwanin’s death, but you hold your tongue against the words. Mentioning her sister would only spoil Neytiri’s mood. She’s happy. Truly and utterly, and it makes your heart hurt to see her so content when her heart is chanting another’s name. 

Jake. Jake. Jake. It’s all you’ve heard in recent times. No sunrise or sunset has gone without seeing the dreamwalker, hearing his name and seeing him walk beside the girl you once thought would be your mate. But she’s beautiful in her happiness. A shy smile playing on her lip as her tail curls playfully behind her. How could you ever disappoint her? And she is right. Jakesully has been accepted as a son of the Omatikaya. He is now no different in spirit than the boys you grew up with. You’ve watched him grow like a seedling sprouting into a tree, learning and changing as his human heart began to take the shape of something different. Yet you cannot completely forget his origins. 

“There will be a celebration at nightfall,” Neytiri’s ears droop in defeat, “if we can leave without notice, then we can go to the Tree of Voices.” Upset is immediately replaced with elation as Neytiri beams. 

“Will you help me prepare for tonight?” She asks coyly. The rest of the afternoon is spent in close proximity, skin against skin as you go about enjoying the simple intimacy of grooming Neytiri. She hums happily as you undo her braids. Washing and combing until her hair hangs down her back like a black river, tied back with a few sprigs of yellow leaves. She preens you in turn, caring for your hair with a practiced gentility before allowing you to leave to change into something more appropriate for the occasion. The most recent of your crafting was made with tonight in mind. Strings of tiny orange and yellow beads hanging over your chest in an undulating pattern, like sunlight sparkling off water. Your tewng is a bright shade of orange to match the band around your arm, hung in a cascade of feathers the colors of firelight. When night falls, music begins to drift up from the communal heart of Hometree. Drums thundering and voices singing as the celebration begins. Neytiri is easy to find beside her parents as they share words of congratulation for the newest members of the clan, and the sight of her snatches the breath from your lungs. 

She’s dressed more beautifully than you’ve ever seen her. A collection of deep purple beads trail like tree roots over her chest with matching bands swaying about her arms, and a violet-dyed loincloth slung around her hips. It dampens your mood to see Tsu’tey close beside her, jealousy burning in your chest. He has forgone more elaborate adornments for the occasion yet he looks no less out of place. His presence commands respect. He will be a wonderful olo’eyktan to Neytiri’s tsahìk. A beautiful couple waiting to be bonded. Your mood is only worsened as her eyes linger some distance away. On the group of newly made adults. On Jake. 

It tears at your heart like the twisting of a blade. Already you’ve had to accept a life without her truly by your side with Tsu’tey, though the union would be without true affection, but now she’s given her heart away to someone new. So strange how what once was alien looks nearly indistinguishable from the true Na’vi also being honored by tonight’s festivities. Some younger, some older, all joining the clan in adulthood. When the music begins in earnest, lines form to dance. Weaving between each other as bodies move to the beat of the drums. Jake has been staunch in his refusal to dance thus far, though his dreamwalker friend Norm seems open to learning. He’s a bit clumsy like a child learning to use his limbs as he follows along with the people trying to teach him, Na’vi words flowing with staunch formality from his lips despite the relaxed air of celebration. He waves as you walk past, somehow recognizing your face as a friendly one in the sea of people. Perhaps he’s seen Grace’s photographs from when you attended school and knows the shape of your pil to match your younger face. With some confusion, you wave back, cracking a small smile as he stumbles over his gangly feet again. 

With fermented drinks flowing freely, the wariness has been tempered enough for the clan to act freely even in the presence of guests. Grace is known within the village, a trusted teacher and ally despite what happened at the school. She wasn’t at fault, though you surely blamed her for a time after it happened. Because there was no one else to blame but the humans. The girl you had grown up with, your childhood friends, all slaughtered in the blink of an eye simply for protecting their home. Had you known of their plan it might’ve been your body that was torn apart by bullets. The thought sends shivers skittering down your spine, the dark shadow returning after the joyous occasion chased it away. 

In quieter moments you still mourn your losses caused by the Sky People. But Grace was also wounded, in body and spirit. You remember the blood dripping from the wound in her shoulder as she desperately pulled you away from Sylwanin, urging you outside as the soldiers closed in on the school. The last you’d seen of your teacher, she’d been putting herself between the soldiers and her students. She seems far more relaxed now as she laughs at something a man said to her, taking sparing sips of her drink as she watches the crowd. Ever the scientist wanting to study even under the most eased circumstances. The familiarity of it all soothes the hurt brought on by the memories.

Jake is occupied with Tsu’tey, the two of them sharing a drink. The group around them is chanting Jake’s name as he hisses around a mouthful of fermented juice. It seems so strange to see the two of them settled beside each other without any real reason. There’s no teaching, no exchanging of insults. They seem to almost be enjoying each other’s company. Tsu’tey had been keen on seeking the outsider’s death upon first meeting, as the whole of the clan’s warriors had been, but he seems not to have grown out of the animosity little by little. If anything, his distaste must’ve grown stronger in the convening months as Jake grew closer to the woman that was meant to be his. But the celebration seems to be reason enough to set aside conflicting feelings as Tsu’tey passes Jake another cup, urging him to take another drink. You think to join them but are stopped by the brush of something against your tail. 

Hands find your waist, slim fingers tracing over the shape of stripes streaked there. Neytiri’s scent is easily recognized. Something sweet and smoldering as she pulls you close. There are more couples around you, all dancing just as intimately. Twirling and bouncing, hardly parting as the music guides your steps. She’s so beautiful in the firelight. Bright eyes and long lashes that flutter towards the ground as a bashful smile finds her lips. Her tail brushes your leg, curling over the shape of your thigh in a flirtatious display that you reward with a playful hiss. Neytiri giggles at the feigned aggression, pulling you closer by your hips until you’re no longer dancing, only swaying to the music as your bodies press so close they’re nearly one. You want to kiss her, going as far as to lift her chin and press your forehead against hers before remembering that this moment is only fleeting.

She isn’t yours. Not anymore. So instead you revel in the feeling of her bated breaths puffing over your lips before stepping away from the temptation. The short distance of separation has her smile waning but someone stumbles into you before you can find the words of an explanation, arm hooked over yours as the new partner urges you to join her. So you let her, leaving Neytiri to work through the confusion as a frown weighs on her lips. She lingers where you’d been for only a moment before stalking off to join Tsu’tey and Jake’s group, kneeling beside them to urge Jake to dance once more. 

This time he sets his cup aside, laughing as he stands to join her. You try to put them from your mind, to focus on the people around you. A few you recognize as Tsu’tey’s students that are also being honored by tonight’s festivities. It is easy to lose yourself in the familiarity of the dance. Far less intimate than the one you shared with Neytiri as all of you move in a circle, feet stomping and hands clapping as the music swells. With the shift of a new melody, though the song is far from over, the steps change and you drift away from the group to join Tsu’tey where he now sits alone. 

Despite the festivities, he no longer seems to be in the mood for merriment as a scowl mars his face, mouth drawn low as he watches Neytiri teach Jake to dance. Once again, it is not Tsu’tey with which your upset lies as the both of you sit scorned by the tsakarem dancing with the uniltìrantokx. 

“I thought this rift had been mended.” Tsu’tey says after a few moments of discontented silence shared between you. At least the two of you knew where you stood with Neytiri. Tsu’tey was a friend, an ally, a man she would honor as her mate, where you were her true love that she had to give up to fulfill the expectations of her parents. It is tradition for the tsahìk to be mated to the olo’eyktan though there are some clans where it is not always so. But the Omatikaya have always been more spiritual, traditional in the ways that have been practiced since the time of the First Songs. To make exceptions for Neytiri’s feelings would be to go against tradition and it was decided that mating her to Tsu’tey would be best. Now here the two of you are, scorned and alone together. 

“I know I am not the one in her heart,” he speaks gruffly, “but now it seems she has no taste for you either. Only this skxawng.” His words sting but there is truth to them. Even after spending an afternoon basking in her presence as you had before his arrival, Jake has come to steal her away from you once more. Simply by being. It isn’t fair to the years you’ve spent loving her, and her loving you, but you don’t say it out loud. The words are far too petulant and like grinding dirt into the wound Tsu’tey must tend to for the rest of his days knowing his mate does not love him wholly and truly. 

“His eyes are small.” Tsu’tey says after a beat of silence. It’s enough to make you laugh at the annoyance in his tone. His drinking must’ve loosened his tongue or else you’d never hear him say such things as if he were sulking rather than angry. 

“This isn’t funny. He will want to choose a mate sooner or later and what will we do when he chooses her when she is not free to be with him?” That quiets your giggling. Not once had you thought of what might happen if Jake wanted to pursue their budding relationship further. Already the separation between friend and lover has begun to blur like looking through a cloud of smoke. It is not in your heart to doubt Neytiri but people have been known to act out of character in the pursuit of love. What can be done if she is willing to betray her promise to Tsu’tey to be with Jake? And why hadn’t she been willing to do such things for you? It’s a selfish thought, especially with Tsu’tey close beside you. You banish it before your heart can be darkened any further by it. 

“I will talk to her.” She wanted to be away from the clan with just the three of you tonight. No better time would come for you to raise such concerns with the way they’re looking at each other. It’s the same way you look at her, without the lingering regret of knowing you will never truly have her. Jake must know she isn’t his to keep yet he wants her even still. People continue to move around them while they stay still as stone, staring into each other’s eyes. It turns your stomach as if you’ve eaten something rotten. 

“For the sake of the future.” Tsu’tey agrees. She will one day be tsahìk after her mother, that much is decided simply by birth. With Sylwanin gone the honor has fallen to her. An olo’eyktan is chosen, not born. If Jake can prove his worth as a warrior there might be no reason to object to his mating with Neytiri. Tsu’tey will simply be passed over as the future clan leader in favor of naming Jake as the next olo’eyktan. The thought seems inconceivable. Tsu’tey is the strongest the clan has to offer. Jake has only just been made one of the People, what can he offer that Tsu’tey does not already have in abundance? 

The night is deep and the crowds thinned as people begin to trail off to sleep or to enjoy the night somewhere more secluded. The only music left is the din of voices murmuring over the crackling of the fire pits as Neytiri comes to coax you from your seat. Tsu’tey already left, too upset to be faced with the sight of his promised mate dancing so closely to another. With you, there was a tenuous agreement, an acknowledgment of your role as a placeholder. Jake has no such allegiances. You’re not sure why you stayed, punishing yourself with the sight of them together. 

“Come, it is time!” Neytiri is smiling as if nothing is wrong. Jake seems not to know where she’s leading the two of you but he follows her tail as if it’s dipped in nectar. He smiles and you wish you didn’t see how Neytiri could fall for him. He’s handsome in a strange sort of way, so alike and yet so different to the faces you see everyday. Aside from his eyebrows, his eyes are small like Tsu’tey said, more human. And the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, is decidedly human as well. He’s as playful as a child despite his age and it serves as both an endearing and infuriating trait. And it was only made worse when he was still learning. Truly like a baby stumbling through the forest, curious about everything around him. 

He still seems intrigued as you walk beside a river glowing like a sinuous blue thread into the distance ahead. You’ve waded your way past the banks into the warm rush of water. The current is slow, knocking lightly at your knees with hardly enough strength to lead even the fish upstream. Your eyes are low, focused on the finned animals swimming past your ankles. So focused that you don’t notice Jake drawing closer until his hands are on your shoulder with a sudden wave of strength. You lose your footing, toppling into the water and surfacing with a disgruntled hiss, ears drawn back as you bare your teeth in annoyance. The night air is warm, a balmy breeze brushing over your damp skin as water drips from your soaked form. Jake only laughs at your sour face before coming into the water after you. 

Instinctually, your arms shoot out in front of you to keep him at bay but he just uses the opportunity to wrap his hands around yours, pulling you in close until you’re chest to chest. Your brows raise at the sudden closeness. In the time since your first meeting you’ve come to consider Jake a friend, perhaps closer even than the friends you’ve made in childhood. He’s been with you every day for so long that you almost can’t imagine a day passing without seeing him, but this is something beyond what you expected of your relationship. Of course, he’d act this way with Neytiri as she curls her tail at him, sharing coquettish smiles and lingering glances, but you’ve never shared in such flirtations. But it is plain to see how you react when it is Neytiri clinging close to you. And with every day spent so closely together, just the three of you, it isn’t hard to imagine how such boundaries might be lost with time. 

Still, it’s dizzying how at ease he seems pulling you closer to him. Your eyes search for Neytiri with a frantic sort of helplessness only to find she’s smiling sweetly at the two of you, seemingly happy with how close you are.

“You didn’t offer me a dance tonight, ma’am.” He says, using the human word of respect for a woman. He said it was a remnant of his training when he was a warrior on his home planet. A Marine. Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Something he says now to tease women when they take a tone of authority with him. Childish as he always is. You’ve heard him say it to Grace a few times and it’s always accompanied with a subtle roll of his eyes. Tonight, he seems less flippant about the word. More teasing than sarcastic as he raises your joined hands over your head, twirling you in a splashing circle. 

“She doesn’t like sharing such dances with others. She will only dance so closely with me.” Neytiri is rather forthright about how close the two of you are. It isn’t something you’ve kept particularly hidden, yet it still seems strange that she’d say such things out loud after so long spent burying your heart in the hopes that her match to Tsu’tey will go smoothly. 

“She’ll dance with me.” Jake laughs, “Won’t you?” One of his hands falls to your hip while the other keeps yours in his grasp, held up and away from your bodies like he’s guiding you to shoot an arrow. He hums an unfamiliar tune as he leads you in clumsy circles through the water. It’s clear he’s never been much of a dancer and he’s probably missing steps to the human dance but you let him bob and sway you because asking to be let go would likely spoil the mood, and you want both of them in high spirits if you’re going to broach the topic of a bit of distance between the three of you. It’s only fair that you try to estrange yourself if you’re going to ask that Neytiri and Jake be a bit more conscious of their time together. To tell Jake to take a step back while still clinging close to Neytiri would be too cruel. Especially when you are in no place to be with her either. Even if it breaks your heart anew to truly let her go. 

Neytiri laughs as Jake folds you backwards, balancing your weight on the hand he’s placed against your back. You hiss and cling to him, worried that this is another one of his games and you’ll be dropped back into the water. Instead he pulls you back towards his chest, both of them laughing at the scorned look you can feel pinching your face. 

“You’re not funny, tawtute.” You scowl. 

“I think I am.” He smiles wide, fangs flashing in the blue light. It’s all too familiar, too close. Neytiri joins the two of you in the water, hand brushing against your arm as she suggests a swim. 

It’s easy to agree because it sets a bit of distance between the three of you. The sounds of the forest, the chittering and buzzing, quiets beneath the water enough for you to think. Jake must know how you feel about Neytiri. It would only take a glance to see how your heart yearns for her. So why had he touched you the way he had? Held you like you were the most delicate thing his hands have ever touched? It feels like you’ve tangled yourself into a knot. Too many threads have converged around you and it isn’t worth the effort to meticulously unwind them. Instead you want to sever each one in turn before they tighten beyond the point of escape. Neytiri is one thread and Jake another, then a dozen more all tied up tight. 

The urge to turn away from it all becomes strong as you emerge from the river and Jake’s hand finds yours once more. It seems almost instinctual. He’s swinging your joined hands and laughing when Neytiri giggles at him for grabbing at her tail. He’s always been playful but you can’t help but wonder if the ceremony confirming him as a member of the clan has lowered some barrier he’d previously set between the three of you. He’s far more open with his touching tonight, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen him as the green syuratan is swallowed by the pale purple glow of the Tree of Voices. 

A swarm of kenten bursts to life as you pass and Jake stops to watch them twirl away, still so enamored with life on Pandora. Neytiri stares for a moment, an enamored look glowing on her face before she reaches to take his free hand. 

The long branches of the trees sway in the warm breeze, light burning brighter at the gentlest touch. Jake releases your hand to brush his arms through the hanging fronds. Without his hand in yours, you’re free to walk further ahead. It had been Neytiri’s plan to bring him here and you aren’t sure you want to bear witness to whatever it is she’s planning. Though you did promise Tsu’tey to at least try to dissuade them from doing something they might regret. Your feet only carry you a few steps away before your resolve strengthens once more. Instead of walking away with your tail between your legs, you turn to face the issue at hand. 

Neytiri is explaining the significance of the trees. A place for prayers to be heard, a place to convene with those that have come before you. It is what you need in this time of confusion and you gather a few branches to connect your tswin. In an instant your mind is filled with a cacophony of voices. Singing and shouting, laughing and shrieking with happiness. Every life that led to yours is held within these trees and their voices offer a comfort like no other. The weight on your soul is lightened as you listen to the happiness babbling through tsaheylu. Old and young, man and woman. Your ancestors sing to you, laugh with you. Their lives are enduring within Eywa. Like salve over a burn, you feel your unsteady heart soothing. The anguish of knowing tonight will change the rest of your life is quieted. When you pull your tswin away from the tree, Neytiri is reaffirming Jake’s place within the clan.  

“You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree,” she turns away as if she is nervous to continue, “and you may choose a woman. We have many fine women.” Her eyes cut towards yours before focusing on the atokirina’ crossing her path. The gentle spirit lands in the palm of her hand. Her ears bend and twist, nervously shifting as she seems to choose her next words with great care.

“Ninat is the best singer.” Jake immediately voices his disinterest and a quiet smile lifts Neytiri’s cheeks. She turns towards you and softly blows the woodsprite in your direction. The little seed twirls through the air, brushing against your cheek like a kiss before drifting away on the breeze. 

“Beyral is a good hunter.” Jake seems to realize what Neytiri is doing, offering her advice on the unmated women of the clan. Pretending to put forth a possible match while still hoping he will decline every option he is given. So instead of denying interest, Jake nods. 

“Yeah, she is a good hunter.” His tone is hollow, but Neytiri turns swiftly, disappointment clear on her face. The small smile she’s been hiding falls to a look of sadness. Seeing her crestfallen face feels as though you’ve stepped into an open flame. It eats away at you. Searing and burning as you watch the woman you love bare her heart to someone else. If Neytiri is upset, you’re livid. Angry and jealous and bitter because Jake has her eyes on him in such a special place, on such a special night. Yet a small, conflicted part of you is glad for the rejection because that is the reason you accompanied them to such a place to begin with. 

This grove of trees is known to be a place of comfort. Many a mating bond has been solidified here, for generations. And you’ve been dragged along to bear witness to the making of another, though it is your hope to dissuade them from their desire to be connected in such a way.  A part of you wants to rage and shout, demanding that Neytiri be with no one if you cannot have her. But seeing the sadness that Jake’s rejection has stirred in her makes your heart cry. She deserves this bit of happiness even if it is not with you. Even if it is not with who she is meant to be with. Jake is quick to correct himself when he sees Neytiri’s suddenly sullen face. 

“I’ve already chosen,” he whispers. It feels like knives in your chest. Something acidic wells in your stomach as your tongue struggles to shape out the words to stop him as Jake’s eyes drift past Neytiri, towards you. 

“But these women must also choose me.” There’s a breathy laugh from Neytiri as she turns towards you, smiling so wide that her eyes are eclipsed. She takes your hands in hers to pull you in close to her side. You try to pull away but she only shifts her grip, keeping you close. 

“We already have.” Her words startle you. We? 

Perhaps she has accepted Jake into her heart as more than a friend but you’ve yet to reach such a point in your affections. And even if you had, it is something forbidden for the three of you to be joined as mates. Neytiri is not free to offer herself to any other. But she looks so happy that you don’t have a moment to speak before Jake is kissing her. Your voice is stuck somewhere in your throat, like you’ve swallowed a rock. It’s hard to make any sound other than short gasps of panic as Jake’s fingertips brush against your cheek, tracing over the pattern of your pil. Feigning at shyness you turn your head away before he can kiss you, too. His lips find your temple, quick breaths rushing over your hairline. 

Neytiri leads despite the nerves still clear on her face, guiding the three of you to kneel together as she takes hold of her tswin. It feels as though your eyes are going to leap out of your head with how wide they’ve gone. Everything is moving too quickly like a rushing river sweeping you up in its current. 

This is the exact opposite of how this night was supposed to end. You were meant to reaffirm some type of separation between the pair not become tangled up between them. You think of the clan. Of expectation and tradition, of responsibility. Neytiri knows of duty and honor. It is what you’ve been taught since birth. Jake may not understand how precious the mating arrangements of a tsahìk and olo’eyktan are. And if he does, it’s clear he does not care. We can’t, you want to say, this is wrong. But it’s hard to see what is so terrible about it when the love of your life is smiling so sweetly and offering to tie her soul to yours. 

Suddenly, Neytiri is in your lap again, forehead pressed to yours as she holds her tswin between your bodies, her other hand petting over where your braid hangs over your shoulder. She cannot force tsaheylu. You must offer your tswin to her with your own hand and it’s clear she is eager to be joined with such closeness. Her lips find yours. Soft, fluttering kisses that slowly sink into something more desperate. Her hands are on your body, tswin forgotten as she clings to you. There’s a shiver skittering down your back as her fingers raise goosebumps over your skin. 

Between her frantic kisses you find the courage to say, “We can’t.” Neytiri pauses. Her smile wanes for a moment, face flickering like a flame being snuffed. But then she’s flaring to life again, eyes bright with determination. 

“This is what I choose, Great Mother forgive me. Nothing else matters but us here and now.” Her hands hold your face like the most delicate piece of crystal. “It was always going to be you, yawntu. Always.” Those are precious words. Because in your heart, no matter what comes to pass, you know you will always love her. The flame you hold for her has never wavered and it must be just the same for her. Even if there is another sharing the space with you. It’s enough to disarm you, lowering your inhibitions as you pull her into another desperate kiss. There’s a renewed steadiness to your hand as you take hold of your tswin, offering it to Neytiri as you always wish you could’ve. Time was lost adhering to expectation but it’s yours to reclaim as the soft tendrils of your braids twine into one. It’s more blinding than the gentle comfort of the Tree of Voices. Something sharp and overwhelming, nearly beyond comprehension. 

It feels like Neytiri is touching you, holding you. Caressing every part of your skin at once. There’s still space between the two of you, a small distance between your chests and yet you feel her heartbeat as if it’s your own, feel each heaving breath as if it’s being drawn into your lungs. All that she is is suddenly inside you, like a pattern being woven into the very fabric of your soul. Another kiss is pressed against your parted lips. Wet and clumsy as she clings as close as your bodies will allow, until it feels like every piece of skin is brushing against yours. And then there’s a second pair of hands against your waist. Larger than Neytiri’s, different than anyone you’ve ever met. It takes a moment for the haze of euphoria to dissipate just long enough to remember Jake’s presence. He’s pressed in close against Neytiri’s back, chin resting on her shoulder as his arms reach to wrap around both of you. 

It seems like he isn’t sure what is happening, eyes lingering on the place your braids are joined in tsaheylu. When his gaze flickers back to yours there’s something beyond curiosity sparking there. A look you recognize as longing, determination. It’s something you’ve felt, something you’ve seen reflected in Neytiri’s face. So strange that something so familiar suddenly looks so foreign. Just a few hours ago Jake had been nothing more than a friend. He is still little more than that but you can’t find the words to say it–tongue tied with the feeling of your soul melting with Neytiri’s–before he is slipping his hand under Neytiri’s arm to add his own tswin to the knotting of your spirits. 

If the feeling had been sweet as ripe fruit before, it’s turned to something bitter and rotten as the unknown joins the blinding familiarity. If she notices, Neytiri doesn’t react to your sudden anguish. A beautiful moment and Jake has ruined it with his overeagerness. Human as he is, he does not understand what he’s done. You try to find the words, to make your tongue shape out the sounds to tell him that what he’s done cannot be undone, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a toneless gasp. Something choked and rasping. Perhaps you could’ve lived knowing Neytiri had shared this part of herself with the both of you, but there was never any desire in your heart to be with Jake in such an intimate way. And now it is too late to warn him of the consequences. Ruefully, you wonder if this is how tsaheylu feels between arranged mates. If this is what Neytiri and Tsu’tey would’ve suffered had the three of you not snuck away on this night. 

It’s a strange, empty sort of feeling. Like water tainted with sand. Cloudy and coarse. Something you would not wish on anyone. Least of all Neytiri. It feels like floating, but just barely. Hardly drifting on the unsteady waves even as Jake and Neytiri’s happiness bubbles through the bond with startling clarity. At least they are happy. 

It’s always been in your nature to stifle yourself in favor of others. To do as is expected rather than what you truly desire. Though this strange new bond that is slipping into place between the three of you was desperately desired. At least for Jake and Neytiri. It nearly hurts how hard Jake is holding onto you, fingers digging into the small of your back as he crowds the two of you in his arms. There isn’t anywhere you can go but here with the way the three of you are tied together. You’ll remain this way until morning, though you wish you wouldn’t as the euphoria begins to manifest in less innocent ways. Jake bites at Neytiri’s shoulder as she sits herself higher in your lap, hands rising from your waist to slip beneath the beading of your top. The strange clouded feeling lingers, but you find yourself falling back into the elation you felt moments ago, basking in the way your new mate is touching you. 

And perhaps being tied to Jake will not be so terrible. He has proven himself different from the others. A true Na’vi among pretenders. With time, you could learn to care for him in the way he seems to cherish you. The thought feels like taking on the burden of another. This is the life Neytiri was meant to lead. Mate with Tsu’tey and lead as tsahìk when the time came. In saving her from such a bleak future you have banished yourself to something just the same. But some things change with time. Perhaps there will be a day when there is unfettered love shared between the three of you. Because in this moment, a dark hidden corner of your soul lingers on the thought of how Jake has ruined what was meant to be something perfectly beautiful. 

Morning dawns in streaks of white light, chasing away the pale purple glow of the Trees of Voices. The slinking branches hang in swaying strands, stirring the sunlight and shadows in sinuous shapes. Everything is warm and soft. The feeling of limbs tangled over your own as ferns and blades of grass cushion your cheek, cutting into your vision as your eyes squint open in the bright light. With some struggle, you untwine yourself from Neytiri and Jake, slipping from the space between their bodies. Jake remains still, but Neytiri stirs to wakefulness with a flutter of her eyelids. Thick lashes fan shadows over her bright yellow eyes as she gathers her bearings. Slow at first as she smiles up at you, then with a sudden urgency as both of your eyes flicker towards a strange sound, ears bending and twitching as your mind tries to make sense of the disturbance. 

It’s loud and heavy, but lacks the heavy footfalls of a herd of angtsìk moving through the forest. There’s something distinctly destructive about the sound, like the crackling of hundreds of pyres burning at once. The sound of wood popping and snapping like it’s being torn off in bits and pieces. It grows closer until the trees begin to shudder and fall a few paces away. Then you hear it, the tinny whirr you’ve come to associate with calamity, something made by the Sky People. Flashes of sunlight glint off the edge of something big and metal rumbling just beyond the tree line. Another tree falls, filling the air with a cloud of dirt and pollen, and Neytiri rushes to rouse Jake. He still hasn’t moved despite the commotion, body sprawled across the ground as if there isn’t some metal creature chewing through the trees with its mouth full of blades. Neytiri is perched over his chest, shouting and shaking as the world comes down around you. Leaves fall like rain as the shadow of the whirring beast eclipses the sun, far too close for comfort. 

“Grab him!” You shout, already pulling at his arm. He’s heavy as stone as both of you struggle to pull him away from the collapsing trees. Another falls, larger than the rest, landing hard enough to send a buckling shudder through the ground. You fall for a moment, then again when a branch lands on your back. The splintered wood scratches across your skin like raking claws, likely drawing blood as you scamper forward on hands and feet to grab Jake once more. His stillness is like death as the two of you clamor to drag him away from the collapsing trees. But even between the two of you he is heavy, far too heavy to move with any haste. Neytiri gets his head over a fallen tree and you follow with his legs but it isn’t nearly quick enough. The machine is getting closer and Neytiri is growing desperate. Her voice shudders and cracks as she screams over Jake’s unflinching body, wailing for him to wake up. Back still burning from the fallen branch, you cover Neytiri’s body with your own as she shakes Jake’s shoulders. He comes to with an air of confusion, eyes expanding and contracting before he focuses enough to get to his feet. 

Of all the things you expect when he pushes the two of you behind him, talking–shouting–at the metal beast is the farthest from your mind. The yellow behemoth has no rider, no obvious reins controlling its movement. It only seems to know forward, but Jake’s yelling seems to slow it to a halt. Though the stillness only lasts a moment before it’s moving again, grinding forward as if it never stopped to begin with. 

“Go!” Jake shouts, shoving Neytiri forward. His hand lands against the scratches torn in your back, stinging as he pushes you after her. He doesn’t follow. Instead he runs towards the thing, yet you can’t bring yourself to look back as you run. There’s the sound of crunching metal then the firing of bullets. 

It’s your turn to fall still, stumbling to a halt as fear roots you to where you stand. Your hands feel warm. They feel wet. When you look down at your shaky palms they’re suddenly bright as if they’ve been steeped in warpaint. Bright red and acidic as the scent invades your nose. The forest seems different now. More shadows overhead and wood beneath your feet. The smell of blood grows heavier as your eyes focus past your hands to the body at your feet. 

Sylwanin is coughing, chest twitching and heaving as she tries to keep the breath in her torn lungs. Your cheek is wet, a spray of her blood speckled over your skin. She tried to say your name before she fell. Hands reaching towards yours, smearing blood over your fingers. Her eyes are dotted with spots of red, and there’s blood leaking from between her lips. She’s trying to talk, trying to say something between the stuttering heaves, but someone is pulling you away from her. 

It takes a few stumbling steps before you realize you’re not in the schoolhouse, not watching your friend die. Instead you’re watching the Trees of Voices be decimated by the rumbling metal beasts still tearing through the carnage they’ve cleared behind them. The trees are gone, leaving only splinters and churned dirt behind as the machines beep and whirr their way through whatever lies before them. 

Distantly, you hear Neytiri crying, though you feel numb even as you see smoke beginning to billow up from the fires the human warriors have set. Trees that have stood for a small eternity, gone in a moment. It doesn’t sadden you so much as it makes you angry. A seething type of anger that carves you out inside, leaves you hollow and numb. There should be tears. You should be in anguish. Yet it feels as though your heart hasn’t quite caught up to what your eyes have witnessed. It’s the same sort of angry nothingness you felt as Sylwanin laid dying at your feet. 

The sound of bullets brought you back to that moment. No longer are you a woman grown, but a child with no knowledge of what to do with the destruction set before you. And now there are no ancestors to ask now, no voices to share your thoughts with. The Trees of Voices are gone. Silently, you stand and begin walking home. There’s nothing left for you here. You shouldn’t have come in the first place. One mistake strung after another in a necklace laced too tightly around your throat. It’s hard to breathe, hard to see as the tears well up at last, but you keep walking. 

Hometree is filled with a cacophony of voices, but you ignore them all. You’re tired despite the sun having just risen. Curious hands brush against you as you float past, numb to the soles of your feet as touches graze the scratches on your back. It’s all dull pressure. No pain. No real feeling. Even the shrieking war cries sound distant as you trail between the warriors with their weapons raised and fangs bared. Despite your best efforts, you’re swept up into the maelstrom, jostled and pushed until you’re stumbling blindly to the front of the crowd. 

Tsu’tey stands at the heart of the press of people, bow raised above his head. His eyes find yours, recognition sparking as he takes in your discheviled state. He says something, extends a hand, but you hardly realize he’s speaking to you until he’s pulling you out of the throng of incited Na’vi. At last, words begin to make sense again as he whispers privately, “Are you alright?” Vaguely, you gesture towards your back and he passes you over to Mo’at. The tsahìk’s face is lined with tension as she brushes the mess of leaves and splinters from your hair and turns you around to look over the wounds on your back. It faces you towards the crowd as Jake and Neytiri emerge. When had they fallen so far behind you?

With heavy strides, Tsu’tey brushes past you, handing you his bow. A clear sign that you’re meant to stay out of whatever he’s about to do. You hide your face in the adornments of his weapon, ears flattened in shame. He is treating you with kindness you do not deserve. You’ve betrayed him. His trust, his friendship. For your own selfish desires. Perhaps this is what is owed for thinking yourself higher than tradition. For going against the word of your tsahìk, of the Great Mother herself who chose Neytiri’s family as her voice among the People. Mo’at’s matronly hands dab against the burning lines cut through your skin with something cold and soothing. It’s more care than you deserve. 

Neytiri is shouting, doing little to quell any notion that your plan to squash this issue has failed. If anything, the problem has only worsened since your promise to urge the two to part. Tsu’tey seems to glean it all from only a moment of looking between Jake and his promised mate, held back by Neytiri pressing against his chest. 

“You mated with this woman?” Tsu’tey’s tone is accusatory, hardly a question at all. Against your back, Mo’at’s hand’s still. She soothes a hand over your hunched shoulder as she steps around you to approach her daughter. Each step she takes is slow, menacing as a hunting nantang. When the tsahìk speaks, her voice is filled with thunder. 

“Is this true?” Between the words there’s a baring of teeth that makes Neytiri wither before her mother. She glances at you before gathering the courage to square her shoulders and declare herself mated before Eywa. It is like a spark bursting over dried leaves. A fight flaring in the blink of an eye. It’s expected. Months of simmering animosity finally bubbles over as Tsu’tey draws his blade at Jake. In the end he’s bested with a swiftness, blood leaking from his nose as Jake reminds him that he is Omatikaya now. It grants him the right to speak even if Tsu’tey will not hear him. 

“These words are like stones in my heart,” he says, and you wish your ears would close to the world once more as Tsu’tey saunters in beside you. There’s a heat radiating from him, like his very soul is burning with his rage. So much he’s lost in a single morning. His mate, his ancestors. Hesitantly, you reach to touch his wrist, as if to hold him at bay. He stiffens under your hand but does not move as Jake stumbles through what he is trying to say.

Then Grace falls. Her body goes still, eyes rolling back as all of her muscles seem to come loose. Jake startles as he tries to rush to make his point. 

“I was sent here to–” He collapses. That death-like stillness from this morning taking over once more. Your grip on Tsu’tey’s arm is broken as he rushes forward to put his blade to Jake’s throat. It should worry you, should enrage you. Because that is how mates are meant to act when one is put in danger. Defend, protect. You remain still. In your stead, Neytiri rushes forward to toss Tsu’tey away. She draws her knife in turn, hissing over Jake as if daring Tsu’tey to come any closer. Her lithe body is poised with menacing intent, ears drawn back and fangs on full display. It’s enough to send Tsu’tey away and you follow after him. 

“You were meant to fix this.” He hisses, snatching his bow away from you. 

“I did what I could but the stone was already cast. A dead tree will no longer bear fruit.” Which is to say a stubborn heart will never be swayed from its desire. It’s doubtless that Jake knew of Neytiri’s arrangement with Tsu’tey. There were days spent training when it was only the two of you. Neytiri and Tsu’tey sequestered away with Eytukan and Mo’at to learn the ways of leading the clan. It’s been mentioned in passing as Jake learned to speak your language, learning what the words tsahìk and tsakarem truly mean. He knew and yet he did not care. Nor did Neytiri. The Na’vi-born woman whose future is ruled by tradition. And perhaps even you did not care enough. Your protests had been meager, not even enough to sway your own mind. Still, you love Neytiri and that is the truth of it. To betray her love would be to betray yourself. Even if it’s what was expected of you. And if Tsu’tey suspects your involvement in this newly made bond, neither of you mention it. 

There will be time for these petty squabbles later. For now, all minds are focused on retaliation, on war and revenge for what the Sky People have taken. Sacred lands desecrated in pursuit of their greed. Presently, it is the only thing that matters. 

[amansabastris]

avatar headcannons:

how many kids does he want?

neteyam x reader, lo'ak x reader, ao'nung x reader (gn!)

neteyam:

the most out of any other on this list, coming in with wanting five.

in the words of quaritch- "a whole litter."

just like his sa'nu and sempu, neteyam wants a big family, full of little ones.

lo'ak:

loves every single second of fatherhood.

whittles toys for his little ones, especially ones he remembers he or his siblings playing with growing up.

little wooden ikran, toruk, 'angtsìk- and ilu and tulkun, too.

can hold at least four of his kids at a time. one on each hip, baby in the sling on his front, and a toddler in the wrap on his back. worried he'll drop one if he tries all five.

five kids can be overwhelming, of course, but he'll never raise his voice at them- if he really needs to yell, he leaves the kelku for a minute to let out his frustration.

insists on braiding their hair himself. he loves to do it.

makes him feel more connected to his little one, twisting and braiding their hair as gently and carefully as he can.

most parents hate their kids crawling into bed with them. with all the limbs kicking and pressing into you all night, who can blame them?

but neteyam can barely sleep without an uncomfortable leg pressing into his back, anymore. it's how he knows all his little ones are here, all safe.

contrary to the some of the other headcannons i've seen on this site, i believe lo'ak would only like two children.

ao'nung:

he just wants a small, loving little family.

he decided on two for a reason, too.

lo'ak would have been perfectly fine with just one, but then he thought about it more.

lo'ak grew up with four others- his siblings, his best friends.

he wanted that for his little, too.

becomes so calm, so easy-going and soft around his children.

lo'ak can obviously be reckless- but when he's with his babies, he's calm. his focus is only on them.

his favorite part of fatherhood is play time. any game his kids want to play, he wants to play with them.

they want to pretend they're riding an ikran? climb on! they want to play in the water? look out, daddy's splashing!

always makes sure both of them are included in the game, too.

no one will be outcast in this family.

he honestly doesn't think about things like that. he would take a moment to think about it, deciding on three at the most.

it seems like a good number to him.

it's the number of kids his parents had, too, so that might be why he's so comfortable with it.

he definitely thinks four would be too many, but three? it just sounds perfect.

he's one of those dads that pretends to be all tough around others, but behind closed doors- he's absolutely melted.

bonus!

this man spoils them. and i mean that.

ao'nung is a fierce leader- strong and proud.

but if his little one were to tug on his clothes and ask for something? it's over. he's crumbled, gone, off to spoil his baby and give them anything they want.

i'm talking dessert before dinner, letting them stay up late playing, anything their little hearts desire.

also... he'd have all girls. he never specifically wanted a boy or girl, and obviously its not something you choose, but something about his genes, man. i'm telling you: three little daddy's girls.

spider:

one.

spider doesn't think he'd be a good father.

but there's still this want pushed to the back of his head- to one day have a baby of his own.

spider thinks he'd be a horrible father.

in reality, if spider ever ended up with a little one...

they'd be the most loved baby on that moon.

probably wouldn't put them down their whole infancy, preferring to have them curled up against his chest at all times.

he wouldn't spoil them- he's raise his little one to be independent, strong, their own person.

but he would also show them that they were loved unconditionally.

that no matter what- their father would always love them. always.

©️ copyright yourlavenderlover, 2023

all rights reserved

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

[avatarmovies]

avatar

Danger! The hammerhead titanothere will raise its crest when threatened. See it #FromSketchToScreen

[strsburn]

sngä'ikrr [begin] ━ ˓𓄹 ࣪˖  neteyam [01.]

pairing - neteyam x fem! na'vi reader

synopsis - you have one subjective, find and bring back the olo'eyktan's daughter, no matter what.

see also - after witnessing your skills firsthand to protect his baby sister, neteyam becomes even more intrigued by you

warnings - reader being an absolute badass, some violence, minor injuries

notes - literally thank you so much, the prologue for sngä'ikrr [begin] has gotten so much attention and it surprised me, i am so grateful for everyone's nice comments and love and am excited to continue this story and build out these characters and their relationship that will continue to develop :')

please continue to leave feedback i love seeing your comments 💓

taglist ; @anm3mi @eywas-heir @ultimatebluff @bambisposts-blogs @velvtcherie @mashiromochi @northsoulss @koudnd @jkeluv @awriana

Your ears twitched atop your head, swiveling around as the sounds of the forest greeted you. You welcomed the smell of pandora, the feel of the soil beneath your feet a familiar sensation that allowed your body to relax as you trusted each of your senses to guide you to the path of the Olo'eyktan's lost daughter.

As you neared a large Yovo bush, a distressed sniffle reached your ears causing you to pause in your tracks as you lowered your bow. Following the treeline a dark blue tail with black tendrils flickered sadly as the owner of said tail continued to cry.

"Evi'" You called, using the affectionate term Ta'hlu referred to you. At your voice, the sniffling stop, the tail coming to a stiff halt in an almost comedic way. A small blue head peeked at you from beneath the leaves of the tree, looking down at you with wide eyes.

"Y/n?" Tuktirey voiced your name with shock, her glossy eyes surprised at the sight of you. You gave a small smile, as you motioned to where she sat.

"Your father has been worried for you, evi'. We could not find you." You told her, beginning to climb the tree after she allowed you up. At your words, she began to tear up again, no doubt overwhelmed by all that occurred.

"I didn't mean to worry them. I wanted to find some new fruit for sa'nok and couldn't remember the way back. I kept going and climbed this tree, do you think they'll be angry at me?" She asked with a worried frown. You sighed, opening your arm to allow her some comfort as she easily accepted it, her hair beads tickling your skin as they brushed over your arm.

"I think they will be relieved that you are home, Tuktirey. Upset? Yes, but only because they love you so much and it would pain them if something happened to you."

She sighed, understanding your point before she sat up with a bright grin.

"Thank you, y/n. But you know, we are friends now, so you can call me Tuk." You felt your heartstrings tug at her admission, and a soft smile grew on your face.

"Thank you Tuk, I could not ask for a better friend than you." She hugged you tightly around the neck as you patted her back gently, before offering your hand to help her down the tree.

Once the pair of you had reached the forest floor, you made to set off for Home Tree when a loud and wild snort had your tail swinging in alarm. You pushed Tuk behind you as an large angtsìk made its way into the clearing, it's eyes settling on you as it pawed the ground with fury, asserting it's dominance.

You narrowed your eyes, tail lashing out as you brandished your fangs in a loud hiss, ears pinned against your head. With your other hand, you reached for your blade keeping your eyes trained on your target.

Seeing the fire in your gaze, the angtsìk pounded it's hooves into the leaves and charged. You waited, counting each beat of its hooves down till the last second before you leapt for its back. It roared beneath your grip as you hung onto the roof of its head, your fingers digging into its scales.

Reering back with vengeance the animal struck you with it's head, the hard skin leaving a deep gash in your arm. Hissing, you grabbed the angtsìk by its head and held it while you swung your queue from behind, forming tsaheylu.

You closed your eyes as you felt the animal's fear, and it's anger, the strength beneath every breath, and the power in his stance.

Opening your eyes as the animal came to a slow trot, you ran your hand down it's side as you spoke softly.

"Mawey, I do not wish to fight." You felt peace rush through the bond and you smiled softly as you sat straighter on the angtsìk.

"Y/n!" You looked up as Tuk ran from behind the safety of her hiding place, making her way to your side. You smiled down at her as she looked up at you in awe.

"You managed to tame a angtsìk, you're so cool!" She exclaimed in excitement. You smiled at her before shaking your head in disagreement.

"No, Tuk. You cannot tame a beautiful creature such as this, we simply formed respect for one another. Now, come, we have been away for far too long."

Neteyam te Suli Neytiri'ite felt his heart pound beneath his azure skin, his ears twitching as he ventured deeper into the forest, trailing you.

He knew if his parents caught wind of his disappearance, they'd skin him, possibly tie his tail in a knot, eywa knows his mother was not one to be trifled with. But, he needed this. He yearned for the days before his near brush with death, the days where his family didn't walk on eggshells around him, was that the correct expression his father had taught him? Tail swishing, he focused back on task as he watched from beneath the leaves of a yovo bush as you, and his sister conversed.

He felt his heart rate slow as he gazed upon the form of his sister, happy to see you had kept your promise, and even more pleased at how you had comforted her. His heart rate increased considerably in those few moments of peace as a large angtsìk made its presence known as he watched in awe and trepidation as you managed to duel the beast and not only remain relatively unharmed but formed tsaheylu.

He felt his heart flutter in his chest, as he looked upon your form. You glowed with pride, honor, and love for your people. He felt his tail swaying with giddiness as unknown feelings crept up on him at the sight of your smile and he flinched as your eyes suddenly connected with his, from beneath his hiding place. He ducked, and taking one last glance at you he turned, and ran from the direction he came.

You watched with unbridled curiosity as the eldest of the Olo'eyktan's children, ran off, quite literally with his tail between his legs. You knew he only meant to see to it that you kept your promise in finding his sister, and based on how he had not made his presence known, he most likely was not meant to be there. So, you held your tongue, focusing on Tuk as she rambled on about her family and the new friends she had discovered while she was hiding in the trees.

As you returned to the base of hometree, you could see the Olo'eyktan, and his mate, along with the rest of your sisters, waiting for your return. You watched as their eyes widened upon seeing you on the back of an angtsìk, and you felt delight well in your chest as you disconnected the bond carefully, and dropped from the animal. You turned, and helped Tuk down as well as you brought her closer to her family, watching her mother hug her with tearful eyes as Toruk Makto caressed her head.

A nudge from behind had you turning to see the angtsìk who rumbled in displeasure at your departure, and you smiled as you pressed your forehead to his snout, leaning away carefully from his large fanned out horns.

"Irayo, my friend. I will call you, tíflrr. For you are brave, and gentle." You patted the angtsìk as he rumbled once again, pushing his head against your chest fondly before he turned and trotted back into the forest.

As you faced hometree, your ears pressed against your head in astonishment as the Olo'eyktan watched you with proud eyes. Putting your fingers to your forehead you greeted him, as he did the same.

"Toruk Makto." You stumbled to a bow, eyes downcast. Though you had been confident in your first meeting, you still felt intimidated by this warrior who had accomplished so much at your age.

A gentle head patted your shoulder, lifting you from your bow. You gazed into the warm eyes of Neytíri, a fearsome warrior, and legend amongst the na'vi. You held back a gasp as you realized your inspiration was standing before you.

"Irayo, y/n te Ta'hlu Ite. You have brought my daughter home, and formed tsaheylu with anangtsìk, one of the fiercest animals of our forests." You watched as the Olo'eyktan stepped up beside her, along with Ta'hlu who gazed at you with love and pride.

"Y/n, for your bravery, courage and responsibility for my daughter's safe return, we gift you this spear, wielded from the bark of hometree, vines from a yovo bush, and blessed by the ancestors." You felt tears form in your eyes, your ears twitching as cheers rang from the na'vi, calling your name. Everything you worked for up to this moment, to feel accepted, to feel worthy.

You locked eyes with Ta'hlu who nodded at you, holding her fingers to her forehead before bringing them down. You copied the gesture, hands shaking as you turned to accept the gift from the Olo'eyktan.

"Irayo, Toruk Makto. I will not forget this moment. I will do well to wield this spear proudly to honor you, and our people."

He smiled, playfully nudging you with his hand as he shook his head in disagreement.

"You do not need to address me as such, you may call me Jake Sully. You have done well, evi." You grinned, running your hand down the sharp point of the spear as your hair fell over your eyes. Your tail swinging with pure joy, and gratitude.

"Irayo, Jakesullí."

You could only hope to continue to bring honor to your people.

As you gazed upon your people, Neteyam watched you with a twinkle in his eye, his tail swinging in content, as his heart continued to flutter at your happiness.

irayo - thank you

angtsìk - an omnivore, known as the hammerhead titanothere to skypeople

evi - kid (affectionate term)

tsaheylu - bond

sngä'ikrr - begin

the next part will be a time skip where we explore neteyam's feelings for reader, and continue to develop those feelings as he attempts to start a friendship.

apologies for the long wait, i rewrote this many times to get the desired results and had a lot of writing block as well x

[stargirlrchive]

folklore drabble: uh oh, i'm falling in love again ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ folklore masterlist

summary: in which jake realizes he’s in love 

word count: 536

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You were woken up roughly, tiny hands shaking you awake and your mind instantly began to panic when you heard tiny sniffles and quiet whimpers. You sat straight up, looking around in the darkness of your tent, Tuk was kneeled before you. Her eyes were big, giant tears falling freely from her eyes as she threw herself into your arms. You instantly wrapped the small girl into you, flattening her hair down as you tried to soothe her. Her head nuzzled into your neck, breathing deeply as she tried to calm down. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“H-had a nightmare.”

Her voice wobbled and new tears sprung to her eyes, she clung to you harder. “Oh, Tuk. It’s okay ‘ite. None of it was real, okay?”

Jake’s eyes fluttered open, even asleep he was hyper aware of any stress that came from his kids. He was about to turn around when he heard Tuk’s voice but he felt you shift beside him, your back pressed tightly to his as you laid back down, “Want me to tell you another story of Ma’Neytiri?”

Jake’s breath hitched when he felt you so close to him, ears fluttering at your quiet words. “Mhm.”

Tuk nuzzled into you, your fingers gently rubbing into her scalp before you began speaking once again, “Your Sa’nok was a mighty warrior. Everyone always thought Sempul was the mightest but not in my eyes.”

Jake’s eyes watered as he heard how soft your voice was, “She was always rescuing me, oh Eywa I have never been a fighter but I didn’t need to be. Not with Neytiri by my side.”

Tuk smiled up at you, tracing her small finger along your necklace, “Point is-she was always there to save me.”

Tuk mumbled quietly, her words causing a lump to form at your throat, “You’re always there to save me, Sa’nok.”

“You’re going to make me cry, ‘ite.”

A loud laugh left Tuk, you shushed her gently and turned to look at Jake, “We have to be quiet Tuktirey. Sempul is sleeping.”

The seven year old nodded her head exaggeratedly, a small giggle falling from her lips. You eased back besides Jake, turning to the small girl, “One time I was out picking fruits and I came across a Angtsìk, I panicked and started running and the huge animal started running after me. Guess who came to save me?”

“Sa’nok Neytiri!”

“Mhm!”

Jake listened to you speak to his youngest for what felt like hours, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. Affection, fear, guilt. In your quiet whispers of the night his heart grew heavy, you consumed his thoughts. He was so lost in thought he didn’t realize the two of you had finally drifted off to sleep.

As carefully as he could he shifted to face you, Tuk was laying on your chest, her arms sprawled all over you as you both slept peacefully. The moonlight hit your features and Jake felt like all the air was taken from his lungs. You were so beautiful.

His heart thumped in his throat, taking in all of you. A warm feeling overtook all of his body, his eyes widening at the realization. He was in love.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[riverlikethelake]

hey heyy!! can you make a jake sully x daughter!reader based off this audio:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8fkkodM/

can be anything you want just it like has to include those lines.

thata all, thank you!! love your work btw xx

Maite.

Jake sully x platonic!daughter!reader

word count: 2k

contains: death, ANGST, daddy issues, specifically MY daddy issues don't come for me, self hatred/low self esteem, hurt/comfort, why am I tagging like an ao3 author, eventual fluff

Ok ngl i thought it was gonna be a cute audio like beautiful boy

imagine my surprise when it's from fucking hereditary...

anyway, loved writing this, fueled my angsty little heart <3

uuuuuhhh not proofread, wrote this at like 2 am and during my lunchbreak. mmmmmm yeah i'm fighting melatonin rn so im just gonna stop typing

From an early age it was obvious you and Neteyam were complete opposites. He was always more thoughtful, while you were impulsive and reckless. You’d run around hand in hand exploring the forest together, he’d fuss over you staying on the path and you’d just smile an follow the lizards and bugs you saw.  

Neteyam was much more of a warrior than you, while he was learning to shoot an arrow, you were off with Mo’at and Ninat learning the more domestic parts of your clan. You’d weave beads and leaves together and they honestly never came out great, but your family, especially Neteyam, would praise you and cherish your work. 

Despite being Neteyam’s twin, you and Lo’ak were much more alike, sharing 4 fingers and a knack for causing trouble. So by the time Lo’ak was old enough to be unsupervised, you were abandoning your classes in favor of running off with your younger brother. 

Neteyam would worry to no end, scolding you and Lo’ak but pulling you aside for a much softer approach only moments later. “tsmuke please, I do not want you getting hurt” he’d plead, holding your hands. Eventually, he started following you around, making sure you stayed out of trouble and were safe. 

Despite this, you still ended up straight in the face of danger countless times. It irritated your father to no end how often you and your brother ended up in trouble, whether it be hanging off the Ayram alusìng because you disturbed the Ikrans or getting chased by an 'angtsìk. Lo’ak and Neteyam would get scolded, but you? You'd just get ignored. 

At first it was nice not getting yelled at, but it didn’t take long for it to become frustrating. He’d scold your brothers and send them off to the hammock, then he’d spare you a glance, like he couldn’t bear to look at you, and walk away. 

You started trying to take the blame for your brothers, cutting into his lecture, insisting it wasn’t their fault but yours. He’d just give you a look and nod for you to leave, brushing you off, disregarding your words. The way he stared at you and sometimes didn’t talk to you for days revealing the fact that he was always angry with you the most.  

No matter how angry you were, or how much trouble you were in, all your father would do is give you that goddamn look and ignore you. Neytiri says it’s because he sees himself in you but the same goes for Lo’ak and he doesn’t hesitate to rip into him, but when you point this out, Neytiri just shrugs and says you’re his first daughter, it’s different. 

You see how he treats Kiri and Tuk, like they’re delicate angels he needs to protect, emotionally and physically. You don’t like being babied or waited on hand and foot, but sometimes you wish you were, watching your father care for and have deep conversations with all your sibling's causing resentment. 

Resentment to yourself, because in truth, you are like him. All your life people have been saying how similar you and Lo’ak are to your father, and the older you get, the more you see it. You were angry at your father, upset at his hesitance to scold and hug you, but soon that turned into anger for yourself. 

Neteyam’s a great warrior, Kiri has an exceptional connection to Eywa, Lo’ak’s charisma and skill with a bow, and Tuk the baby. They all had reasons to stand out, steal your parents' attention, but you simply seemed to just... be there. 

You were reckless with nothing to make up for it. You started to tell yourself it’s no wonder dad can’t look at you, he can’t scold you, he doesn’t know how to treat you. How to love you 

Leaving the clan was hard, but you understood, your family was in danger, and you’d do anything to keep them safe, you just wish the transition was easier. You felt like you stood out like a sore thumb, you weren’t particularly good at the ways of the Metkayina, and your temper landed you in many fights with not only the boys picking on your family, but your father. 

At first, he could pin it on Lo’ak and Neteyam, but when they became friends with the boys, adjusting well and thriving, he had no choice but to finally confront you.  

Why couldn’t you just be like Neteyam? That’s all he could say. It’s not what he said exactly, but that’s all you got from the conversation. It was painful watching him struggle to speak to you, eventually you just stood up and stormed out.  

All you want is for him to show something to you, something other than the bare minimum necessary for him to still call himself your father. All you wanted was to prove yourself, but you have no idea how to when you don’t even know why he’s disappointed. 

Your heart is  pounding in your ears, drowning out any other sound as you pull your brothers arm over your shoulder, securing him against your back. You glance back to see Lo’ak holding onto Spider as he and Tsireya adjust their grip to tightly hold onto the Ilu saddle. 

“Go!” Lo’ak yells, and you move forward, Surging through the water, all you can think about is your brother, the way he lays limp against you. You feel like you are going fast enough, the water and weight of your heart slowing you down. 

As you approach a rock, you see your father running to your aid. “He’s been shot!” you call out, watching as your fathers face twists into fear. Lo’ak and spider pull him off your back, Jake helps guide him out of the water and onto the rock. As they set him down, you scramble to sit, placing his head on your thighs, hands caressing his face. 

You’re hyperventilating, choking back sobs as tears fall down your panicked face. Your brothers eyes dart around fearfully, overwhelmed and scared. You don’t look up as your mother runs over, crying out as she spots your brothers state. 

He brings a hand up to yours resting on his cheek, he briefly meets your eyes before looking to your parents. “Dad, I want to go home” He stutters. Your father nods, choking out reassurance. Neteyam’s eyes darted around before landing on your father. “Dad I-“ his words falter as you watch the light in his eyes fade. 

You watch as his chest stops expanding, his body going limp. You couldn’t stop the tears that fell from your eyes as your mother started to cry, screaming and shaking Neteyam’s shoulders. Your body wracks with sobs as you hunch over, pulling Neteyam closer to you. You stare at his as his head lays in the crook of your arm, hand still resting on his cheek. 

The white noise that’s fills your senses blocks out any other sound. You can vaguely make out the conversation your parents are having, your sister are still stuck on the ship. Jake orders your and Lo’ak go stay with Neteyam as Neytiri mounts her Ikran. You lower Neteyam to the ground as Lo’ak protests.. 

“Dad I want to go with you” Lo’ak murmurs, on the verge of tears. He stares at your brother for a moment before muttering “you’ve done enough” 

You can almost hear the crack of Lo’ak’s heart breaking, you step forward, tears still streaming down your face. “Dad please I can do this” Your voice is breathless and desperate, shaking with the hiccups of your sobs. 

He holds his hand out for your to stop “Y/n.” your blood freezes at how cold his voice it. “Don’t make this any worse” He states, punching a hole right through your heart. You start to sob as he turns to follow Spider, intense sobs wracking through your body.  

Lo’ak turns to Tsireya, telling her to stay before running off after the ship. Tsireya holds you as you fall to your knees, crying and reaching out to hold your brother again. 

You hold onto your brother, you just hold him close. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault, you’re the one who ran off with Lo’ak to see Payakan, you insisted on going back to saving Spider. You were the one who hesitated to jump into the exit, Neteyam rushing out in the line of fire, pulling you along to get you to safety.  

You think back to how you’re father would scold you for bringing Neteyam along into your dangerous adventures, how your brother was always right about things going wrong, but the one to bear the burden of it. 

All you can do is hold him. 

You whisper to him, you tell him stories of your childhood together. “I remember how we used to fly together, you hated how reckless I was in the mountains but you still stayed with me, I cannot remember a moment you weren’t by my side when I needed you” you choke out, your voice cracking and going hoarse.  

You don’t know how long you sat there holding your brother, but as the eclipse passed you heard the sloshing in the water. You don’t look up but you here Tuk running over, she sits next to your brother, she grabs his hand and places it on her cheek, loud cries escaping her lips. Slowly you lay Neteyam down, your mother taking your place when you stand up. 

You stumble backwards, holding your hands to your chest. You look down, trying to regulate your breathing. “Y/n” You dad whispers, placing a hand on your shoulder. You raise your head and look to him, a pained look on his face. 

He stays silent, your head lowers. There was never silence between you, only when he was disappointed in you. “I’m sorry sir” You whisper.  

He reaches out to you but your wrap your arms around yourself, tears falling down your face again. You glance back up to him and you fall, you can’t help but cry out to him. “Dad, I should be dead” You choke out “I really should be” 

He steps forward “No” he replied breathlessly, he places a hand on your arm but your body wracks with the incoming sobs. “He can do thing, he can hunt a-and he can fight, and I just do nothing” your legs feel like jello, you fall to your knees, Jake dropping to his knee to face you. “I can’t do anything”  

You hear him protesting, trying to comfort you but all you can do is shake your head. “I’m nothing i’m nothing” you repeat like a broken record, loosing your voice as you cry. He pulls you into his arms, “Y/n no don’t say that” he whispers in your ear, tightening his hold on you. 

“I did this I DID THIS” you babble, he shakes his head, placing his hand on the back of your head. “babygirl this is not your fault” he fully sits down, pulling you into his lap. You bury your head into his chest, shaking your head as you cry. “You always told me to think, to listen to him and stay out of trouble” your voice croaked, sore from the hiccups and crying. “but I couldn’t and now he’s-“ you’re interrupted by a wail that rips from your throat. 

You can feel his hold on you tightening, hear the sharp breaths he takes to keep his composure. “ Listen to me baby girl” his voice is impossible quiet, but strong “this is not your fault” he places a kiss on your cheek, keeping his face pressed against yours. 

You pull back, looking at him in the eyes, he places his hand on your cheek “I see you, daughter.” His words are like a wrecking ball, anything but soft and breaking down your walls all at once. In an instant, your arms are wrapped around him and your crying into his neck, gently, he wraps his arms around you, cradling you like you’re a baby again. 

“Babygirl, I love you” he whispers. You know the words have great meaning, connecting him back to his human origins. You balance your breathing; tears starting to slow.  

You pull your head back to look at him, he gently places a kiss on your forehead. You lay your head back on his chest, your eyes widened when you noticed his knife sash. Wrapped around the band and onto the base was a cord you weaved, the first one you ever presented to your family. It’s messy, barely what you meant it to be, but he has it tightly wrapped around his satchel, right where it crosses his heart. 

He places his hand on your cheek “I’m sorry if I haven't shown it enough, but I love you so much”