#this is the moment when he loses all his human ties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsonlydana · 6 months ago

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Find a cure for my heart | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.

warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end

words: 5,6k

an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!

+ masterlist + rules

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.

In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.

They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?

Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.

You had your own story. A different one.

But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.

You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.

You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.

Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.

Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"

Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.

It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.

A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.

Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.

The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.

And so he did.

Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.

Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.

And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.

There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.

Especially you.

There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.

No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.

The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.

That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.

Or the Elvenking.

Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.

"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.

In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.

"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.

You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.

The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.

The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.

That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.

Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?

Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.

Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.

'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'

Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.

Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.

You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.

It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.

You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.

When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.

You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.

What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.

There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.

You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.

It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.

You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.

Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.

The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.

"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.

His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"

"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."

Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.

You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.

Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.

Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.

You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.

The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.

Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.

You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.

Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.

⸺

Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.

"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"

You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.

She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.

"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.

Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.

Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.

"Tilda–"

You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.

⸺

You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.

Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.

This had to be a dream.

Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.

Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.

A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.

"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.

For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.

The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"

Ah, straight to the point.

"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.

Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.

This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.

You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.

One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.

"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."

He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.

Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.

That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.

It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.

Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."

The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.

You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."

Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.

"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"

A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.

"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."

"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."

"But –"

"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.

You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.

"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.

He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.

The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.

Now, there remained little of that stillness.

"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"

"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"

The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.

Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.

You searched for a response inside you but found none.

All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.

Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.

His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.

Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.

The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.

You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was indeed, and far beyond that."

The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"

Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.

He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."

How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?

They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.

While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.

He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.

You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.

You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.

You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.

"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"

He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.

Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.

"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."

"He noticed it all?"

"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."

You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."

"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."

"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"

Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."

You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"

Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."

You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.

"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.

"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."

In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.

Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.

Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.

He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.

As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.

"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.

While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.

You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.

Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.

"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."

There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.

This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.

Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.

Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.

They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.

You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.

Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.

With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #king of mirkwood #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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misc-obeyme · 4 months ago

Note

Yo CC I want dateables and undatables HC as subs too! -🍄

Oh?

Ask and ye shall receive!

Side Characters as Subs Headcanons

GN!MC x the side characters

Bros as Subs Side Characters as Doms

NSFW MDNI

Note: Again, buckle up for the warning list 'cause it's long. But most stuff is briefly mentioned as this another headcanon about what they'd be into.

Warnings: Dom!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, shibari, praise, humiliation, degradation, pet play, whips, chains, magic?? I dunno how else to label that lol, electric shocks, orgasm denial, begging, oral fixation, dacryphilia, biting, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, overstimulation, collaring, breath play, choking, blood kink, lingerie, harness, hot wax, semi public sex OKAY HOPEFULLY THAT'S EVERYTHING.

Diavolo

Although he might not seem like the type, Diavolo will give you an enthusiastic yes if you ask him to sub for you. The truth is, he loves the idea of worshiping you, giving you everything you want, following your every order. He wants nothing more than to please you, so if that involves being your sub, he’s going to agree readily.

Diavolo is a big strong powerful demon, so you might not be able to do much to him with your standard human physical capabilities. If you’re not paying attention, he might fake it for you, though. Pretends it hurts when you smack him, even if it’s more like a pleasurable tingle to him. He likes pain just fine, but if you want him to actually feel it, you’re going to have to get creative.

Probably into electric shocks and things of that nature. Sensations you can only get from specialized items. He will be thrilled about magically induced situations, too. Because most of that stuff can actually hurt him a little.

He’s happy to try anything and everything. Bondage, pet play, whips, chains, whatever you got, he’s ready to go. Not exactly into humiliation, but he does think it’s cute when you try. The one thing you’ll get a firm no about is exhibitionism. He’s got a reputation to maintain, after all.

It will take a bit of time for you to no longer feel like he’s just indulging you. He doesn’t lose control of himself ever, even when he’s letting you do anything you want. Somehow, even when you’re domming, he’s still the one in control. Eventually, though, the more you do it, the more he lets go. And then one day you’ll find him on his knees before you, tied and blindfolded and begging for release. It’s only with you that he can ever be this vulnerable, MC. Because he’s trusting you not just with his pride and his body, but his kingdom, too. He trusts you not to take advantage of him in these moments.

Barbatos

As with everything else, Barbatos will respond to a request to sub with calm neutrality. He’s happy to do anything you want, MC. It’s deceptive because it doesn’t give away his true feelings at all. But he won’t do something he’s not actually comfortable with.

Despite is his calm facade, as soon as you get into it, you quickly find that you have unlocked Barb’s freak. He’s into everything. He wants you to go all out. Do not hold back.

Depending on his mood, he might be extremely compliant. Doesn’t fight you on anything, just takes everything and then also thanks you for it. But other times, he will get devious and deliberately defy you. He’s pushing your buttons on purpose to see how far you’ll go.

Barbatos has high pain and humiliation tolerance, so not much phases him. It’s far more effective to make him lose control of himself because that’s when he gets embarrassed. A good way to do this is denial. Restrain him and then only touch him lightly - just enough to get him going, but not enough to satisfy him. Make him really lose his mind by having him shift into demon form and then handling his tail. He both wants you to touch it and doesn’t want you to touch it, but he can’t do anything about it either way.

He won’t hesitate to beg. He apologizes the whole time. He wants you to forgive him for losing control of himself. If you’re harsh enough about it, you might even make him cry. He’s not used to allowing himself to feel this much, so if he’s really letting go with you, then you’ll see these sides of him that you normally wouldn’t.

He has an oral fixation. He wants to suck on something all the time. That can be your cock/strap, your fingers, his own tail, whatever you want. But be careful because he bites, too. He might do it on purpose just to get a reaction from you.

Barbatos wants nothing more than to surrender to you completely. He has a high libido and gets worked up the moment you do anything suggestive. Normally he represses that neediness, but in this situation he’s going to let you see it. He’s going to beg and beg. Also likes to use a title for you and will use it outside of the bedroom, too. It isn’t a slip of the tongue, he does it on purpose. He doesn’t care what other people think of him. All he cares about is you.

Simeon

Naturally more of a dom, Simeon will sub for you if you ask. But he’s not used to being on that side of things and you can tell. Take it easy with him at first, he’s still learning. Once he’s more comfortable with you, though, he’s surprised about how much he enjoys it.

Somehow he has both a praise kink and a humiliation kink. It doesn’t matter which one you go for, either one will make him cry. But he’ll let you know that despite the tears, he wants more. Say that to him again, MC.

Simeon will wear anything you desire. He finds he enjoys dressing up for you whether that’s in a harness or lingerie or shibari.

Turns out he likes pain, too, far more than either of you anticipated. He won’t be bratty to get you to punish him, though. He will ask you to hurt him instead. Pretty much anything will do, but his preferences are biting, spanking, and hair pulling. Just be prepared for the noise because he’s also incredibly vocal no matter what you’re doing.

He also discovers a love for dirty talk. If you really want to tease him, call him so you can unleash a paragraph of filth that will leave him reeling. If you can get him to figure out how to do video calls, he’ll happily put himself on display for you. He loves to be told how to touch himself when you’re not there beside him.

Simeon will not allow anyone to know what he gets up to with you. It’s too embarrassing and he cares about his reputation too much. Don’t misunderstand him, MC. He loves being your sub, but he represents the Celestial Realm, you know? That stuff is better kept behind closed doors.

Solomon

This man is the switchiest of switches so of course he’s willing to sub for you. He enjoys it thoroughly, he loves when you take charge and order him around. He’s naturally more of a brat, but he won’t push you too far. He can tell when you’re getting genuinely annoyed with him and will reign it in.

He loves to be punished and will absolutely do things on purpose to get you to punish him. We all know how he enjoys being scolded, but he likes when pain is involved, too. If you spank him, he’ll probably come in your lap. Enjoys things like orgasm denial and overstimulation, too.

Solomon has no problem indicating just how needy he is. He can’t keep his hands to himself or his lips or his tongue or anything else for that matter. If you want him to, you’ll have to restrain him. He doesn’t mind. Tie him up, blindfold him, gag him, whatever you want.

If he’s not gagged, he will babble and beg and tell you how amazing you are. Be careful though because he might also recite a spell. He knows a bunch that do all kinds of questionable things. He very much enjoys getting magic involved. Drive him wild by reciting such a spell yourself.

He has no shame, he’ll probably discuss the details of your sexcapades with anyone who asks. Asmo probably gives him advice about things to do or try. He’ll love wearing a collar and even though it’s under his turtleneck situation, he’ll deliberately show it to people. Look what MC got for me!

Mephistopheles

Downright refusal the first time you ask. Absolutely not, MC. It’s bad enough that he’s doing anything with a human, he won’t even consider submitting to them in that way! Give him some time to think about it. Don’t bring it up again because he’ll ask you himself a little while later, sheepishly admitting that he’d like to try.

And of course this reveals the secret sub that is Mephisto. He is a whiner and a crier and a hardcore blusher. Everything sets him off. Always has over the top reactions to just about anything you do. This will calm down over time, but he’s always going to be very reactionary.

He will be a HUGE brat. You are definitely going to be in brat tamer mode most of the time. He will downright refuse if you give him orders. He’ll get embarrassed if you’re too soft with him and that’ll only make him worse. You have to be rough with this guy. Put him in his place. If you do, he’ll be so turned on he won’t remember to be bratty anymore.

He likes pain, but really he likes to feel a little bit of fear. He's really into choking. He trusts you, but he likes that jolt of nerves that comes when you grab him. He also enjoys biting. Something about the sharpness of that kind of pain really works for him. And he loves seeing his blood on your lips. Yeah, he's got a blood kink.

Surprises himself when he has a positive reaction to humiliation. He likes it when you pull his hair and call him a slut. The first time you do it, he moans dramatically and then blushes so hard he nearly blacks out. Terribly embarrassed for a bit, so you'll have to lay on some praise to make him feel better.

Enjoys fancy things, especially if it's something he gets to wear. If you get him a harness, he wants a pretty one. Same with shibari ropes. He's blushing the whole time, but he likes the way it makes him feel when he's wearing it.

He's terrified of anyone finding out. He has a hard time thinking about it outside of the act itself, let alone mentioning it to anybody. Swears you to secrecy. You had better not tell anyone, but especially not any of the brothers and most especially not Lucifer.

Raphael

No big deal. Why are you making such a production of asking him about this, MC? Raphael is truly unflappable. He doesn't feel too strongly about it either way, so he agrees easily.

Similarly, you won't get much reaction out of him about anything. Practically immune to praise, humiliation, degradation, and pain. Is there anything that will get a reaction out of him?

If you keep at it, you'll find that he secretly enjoys praise. It takes a while because he's so stoic, you almost can't tell. But call him a good boy enough times and you'll eventually catch that blush.

You find that Raphael really likes the way you react to things and will do stuff he thinks will rile you up. He wants you to punish him because of the way you get when you do. It isn't that he enjoys pain, it's that enjoys watching you inflict it on him.

You will also find that making him wear pretty things usually flusters him. If you point out that his angel outfit is pretty, he'll disagree and tell you that it's functional. (It's not, but let him stay in denial about it.) Make him wear some lacy lingerie and he'll be blushing hard.

He's quiet about it, but he actually enjoys subbing. It gives him a chance to let his mind go blank. He simply follows your orders and everything you do makes him feel good. Why would he be opposed to that?

Since this is the case, he doesn't care who knows about it. He'll add a collar to his angel outfit willingly and if anybody has anything to say about it, well… they're risking some pointy rain, so.

Thirteen

She's thrilled you've asked, MC! She's happy to do either thing for you! Anyone else would probably not fare too well, but for you? Anything.

Sometimes she's in the mood to listen to you. When this happens, you find the praise kink does wonders. But other times she's not in the mood and then you've got a bit of a brat on your hands.

Either way, she doesn't respond well to humiliation or degradation. And you don't usually have to actually punish her. Normally the threat is enough. Take her throat in your hand and squeeze gently while telling her to behave and she'll quiet down immediately. She'll blush so prettily and her eyes will get just a little wider as she bites her lip to hold in a moan.

She likes to bite and be bitten. If you let her, she'll leave marks all over you. Has just a little bit of a blood kink. Nothing too dramatic, but doesn't mind when you draw a little from biting her.

Thirteen likes to be tied up, but she's not too fond of blindfolds or gags. She likes to see you and she likes to be vocal. She's shameless and will meet your eyes head on any time.

Loves accessories. She wants all the fluffy handcuffs and strappy leather lingerie. Let her wear a collar for you, it's all she wants.

Absolutely up for anything. Food play? Pet play? Impact play? You name it, she's willing to try it. And finds she enjoys it all, too.

There's something uniquely special about hot wax, though. This is because of her job tending to life candles. The wax reminds her of the weight of that responsibility. And when you use it in such an intimate way, it becomes so much more important. It really turns her on.

Again, shameless. Doesn't care if everyone knows who she belongs to. Semi public sex is something she finds thrilling.

demon bros as subs | demon bros as doms | side characters as doms

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

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risuola · 6 months ago

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V — SILENT PROMISE // Sukuna thought he won't bend, but the sight of you made him question himself.

contents: blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 1,5k words

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

You were wet, your breath was heaving and your heartbeat rumbling in your head.

You were trembling.

Bleeding.

The red iron stung your eye, made your hair stuck to your temple and cheekbone. Pain pulsated, spreading its waves around your skull, focusing right where the wound was somewhere underneath the strands of your wet hair — a mark left by the grip of a gun that hit your head hard.

You coughed.

Yet another splash of ice-cold water hit you in the face and you weren’t ready. Again. Your clothes were soaked, sticking to your body in a harsh cocoon of fabric. Your light-blue t-shirt translucent against your skin, stained with blood that dripped from your face. You felt exposed, cold. It was humiliating, having all four of the men around you look and snort at every shiver that run down your spine. They seemed amused, they were amused to torture you.

Someone grabbed your hair, pulling the wet locks violently and forcing you to look up, to tilt your head back. Something sharp touched your neck, poking and prodding at your delicate flesh on the side of your throat.

“I don’t know anything,” you whimpered, before the question was asked once more. What do you know about Sukuna Ryomen? You heard that already twenty times and each of them was a little lower, a little more cruel, a little more violent.

Fact is, you couldn’t even recall how you got into the dimly lit room lined with cold concrete and furnished with steel. One moment you were heading home with a bag of snacks and the most gorgeous, most red strawberries you found in the store and in the next, you were here — tied up with the very same strawberry red running down your face.

The ropes were digging into your flesh, partially taking away the circulation and your hands felt numb, tied behind the backrest of a metal chair. You could feel your skin ripping underneath the roughly textured bounds, it stung every time you were yanked around or hit by someone. It wasn’t humane, you didn’t do anything, you shouldn’t be treated like that—

“I’m sure you can tell us something. Sooner, the better, princess.”

—but you were. The men around you were kind enough to explain the situation to you before the terror began. Apologized even, but they didn’t seem sorry when the first pain was inflicted on you. When they screamed and threatened, they didn’t seem sympathetic or regretful. No. It was pleasurable for them, you saw it in their eyes, on their faces. Pathetic joy that they got from torturing someone like you.

You felt the blade press its way into your skin and it stung. A hot drop of, what you only assumed was blood run down the side of your neck and along your collarbone, sinking finally into the ruined fabric of your blouse. The cut was shallow, you could tell as much, but it still sent yet another jolt of fear throughout your body. You felt your heart going wild inside your chest and you held your breath, afraid to move too much when the knife was that close to your throat.

“I really don’t know you fucking asshole!” You groaned the moment he took the weapon away. The stress and fatigue made you lose your temper but you were determined to not cry, no matter how much you wanted to and god knows you wanted to wail.

* * *

“Seeing something familiar?”

Sukuna felt in real time how the blood in his veins was turning into fire. Rage — indescribable and heavy — was taking over his thoughts and his muscles were twitching. His shoulders, up until now relaxed, squared up. His brows furrowed, a crease formed between them and the look of his eyes became cold and dreadful. Menacing.

“How unwise,” he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. The officer in front of him flinched, bending underneath the gruesome, unnerving aura that turned the air in the room into a thick substance, impossible to breathe in. Despite his best effort to hide his nerves, the droplets of sweat gave all away. Sukuna smiled, grinned in a way that’s thirsty, in a way that craves blood and pain. “You’re getting very nervous, detective.”

“Cooperate and all of that will soon be over,” the man said, struggling to hold the gaze of the criminal that’s now leaning towards him, asserting his nightmarish dominance over the situation.

“Oh, it will be over soon, but I doubt you’ll be happy with the results.”

“We predicted you might not be thrilled to see this girl interrogated, and—”

“That is what you call an interrogation? Beating a little girl? It seems like my ways of dealing with people are more humane than the ones of police.”

“Unfortunately, it’s the mean to an end. You are too valuable of a capture, it gave us a green light to use every method possible to get what we want from you and that includes torturing this hardly innocent little girl.”

Sukuna scoffed. Then laughed — the sound of it ominous and loud. His head tilted backwards and he leaned against the backrest. He knew how it worked; he used those very same methods to get what he needed in life. He threatened women, he threatened children but, in his etiquette, violence against those groups was forbidden. Fear, yes, but physical abuse not and he stood by those rules, enforcing them on his pawns. He used those methods because they were effective. Not a single man in love, not a single husband or father, stayed strong for long when a wife or a kid was on the line. They always bent.

Was he now one of those men who bend?

“A mean to an end, huh?”

“It’s either you or her. You can tell us what we want to know and she’ll be safe and sound, with no charges to her name. You can also keep up the stubborn and we’ll see how much she can take. If that doesn’t work, we can also put her to prison and, I assure you, she’ll be very popular over there. Female inmates love to play with newbies.”

Sukuna couldn’t imagine you being in jail. You were too fragile, too sensitive to be incarcerated, you belonged in silk and flowers, not steel and concrete. You deserved to be free and now they threatened to encage you? Very, very unwise.

* * *

“I didn’t cry, you know?”

“You’re one very, very brave kitten, are you not?” Sukuna cooed, holding you tight to his chest and kissing the torn skin around your wrists for the nth time. He’s got you in a cocoon of his own jacket, on the back seat of a black car driven by one of his pawns. You were tired, exhausted, but happy to see him, to feel him.

The praise made you giddy, his menacingly loving tone made your heart bang against your ribs despite there being no danger anymore. You still shivered due to your wet clothes but now it was somehow bearable. Now, with a large, mighty body next to you and callused hands gripping you tightly, the discomfort of wet clothing was just a nuisance. You were smiling, nuzzling into him, craving the touch you’ve been stripped off for way too long. Nearly three whole weeks you spent without seeing Sukuna, neglected of his warmth and once you saw him again, you realized that the constant of danger that followed him has got you hooked.

“I missed you,” you said into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin that poked through the metallic hint of blood and plain smell of soap he had to use while in jail. The jacket you had wrapped around your upper body carried his expensive perfume — rich and woody, smoky note of tobacco and vanilla. It was sexy, spicy with a touch of sweetness that you couldn’t get enough of.

“Me too, sweet thing, me too.”

Sukuna exhaled, allowing the tension away from his shoulders. Despite the crime he just committed — another one to his name — he felt at ease, because you were safe. The moment he saw, not more than an hour ago, the fear in your eyes; the moment one of the officers ripped your shirt open and used the knife to snap one of your bra straps, his patience snapped as well. It didn’t take him long to put down the detective that was assigned to him — headbutting him so hard he passed out cold. Once he undid the chains, he was out the door and searching for you, fighting his way through the officer-packed halls until your frame came into sight.

“Ryomen—” you gasped out, once your beautiful eyes landed on him and he could have sworn they glittered in the dim, dirty lights around. There was a cheer in your voice, a melody of joy and relief and at the moment he couldn’t care any less about the violence he was exuding. He needed the men around you down and you out of here. And he’s got you out quickly, carrying you in his arms and towards the car that waited for him.

That’s how he’s got you there, trembling against him but safe. Whilst kissing your wounds, he made silent promises to never let that happen again.

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otseatsugemon · 5 months ago

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DOCTOR STEIN AND HIS PATIENT HEAD HEADCANONS

frail/weak! reader, spanking, mentions of human experimentation, no beta read, mentions of reader using a crutch, manipulative stein(?), ooc stein(?), non-con, toxic relationship (?), ect..

Dr. Stein is the man you call your beloved doctor who takes care of you and treats you like precious glass. Dr. Stein who knows you are fragile, wants to look inside of you and explore your body until he knows you from the inside out. Dr. Stein who you let experiment on you and slice you open but you don't mind, right? no matter if it causes you the most pain you could ever experience.

Dr. Stein ties you down onto the lab table whenever you try to run away but how far can you really go in only a (poorly treated) patient's gown and your crutch? he always catches you, and he promises it won't hurt one bit it'll just feel like a pinch (he lies)

Dr. Stein is slowly losing his patient, so what better way to discipline his patient? Spanking. he’ll bend you over his lap, as he begins to leave painful marks on your bottom with his favorite ruler, he’ll rub and squeeze your very sore bottom as you whine and cry for him to stop.

Dr. Stein truly cares about you! he promises! so don't cry, he knows he can act like he doesn't really care but he does, he cares about his precious boy (name), stein would never replace his patient you're too weak for the world he couldn't possibly let you go!

Dr. Stein who one night decides to experiment on you while you sleep, promised he would only do it when you were awake but his temptations just got the better of him, he's sorry!

as you yawned, you realized you were on the lab table and not in your comfy bed. As you tried to slide off the table you fell causing a loud crash, you should have known better trying to get up without your crutch but you didn't know what was happening, your head hurt a lot and a lot weaker than normal! as you laid on the lab's floor, hot tears began to pour from your eyes. “s..stein! doc. doctor!!” you cried and shouted, as stein entered the lab he put out his cigarette that was placed in between his fingers.

he crouched down and picked you up ��Now..now what happened here?huh?” you tried to explain to your doctor that your head hurt a lot and you felt a whole lot weaker, “such a silly boy” he bopped you on the nose as he placed you down and opened up a drawer reaching for a busted up old mirror. he placed the mirror right in your face as you wiped the tears from your eyes to see better, you noticed the stitch on your forehead… you screamed!

“s..stein!” you shouted as your fingers gently touched the stitch, “yes?” how can he be so calm?! Once again tears began to pour from your eyes as you bawled your eyes out.

“shh..” you looked at him with glossy eyes “I know you suffer a lot from what people I suppose call ‘mental illness’ so like the wonderful doctor I am! I tried to fix you up, don't be frightened, it was for your own good!” he placed a kiss on your trembling lips, you couldn't stand to look at stein at this moment. you bawled your hands into fists as you tried to hold in your anger and sadness for him doing this in your sleep he promised he wouldn't as you cried and were lost in your thoughts, you felt Stein's lips on your.

you gasped as you felt his tongue slide into your mouth.. “don't be sad, I'll make it up to you..” … that's how you ended up here, you on the lab table with knees beside your head as your doctor, thrusts his cock into your hole “A..ahh! Nonono.. stop stein!” you begged as you felt his cock hit your prostate rapidly, “shh..just take it like a good boy” he held onto your legs as he pushed deeper and deeper into your tight heat. “you are a good boy, no?” you nodded as you began to drool, you could feel your brain turning into mush with each rapid thrust, your cock twitched as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to climaxing.

“sososo c..closee! mghh!” you whined as your cock began to squirt come all over your tummy for the fifth? Sixth? you lost count it feels like he's been milking you forever, as steins harsh thrusts you could feel his cock in your tummy, “cmon you can take it for a bit more..” you began to move around trying to get away and put his grip on you was just too strong for you, the way his cock filled up your hole was just too much for your poor soul to handle! your eyes crossed as you rambled nonsense.

“fuckfuckfuck..coming!” stein's cock twitched as he began to pump you full of his seed.. your vision turned back… … your legs ached as did your back, you were now in bed with covers on top of you. “I only do what's best for you, boy..” stein ran his fingers through your hair as he placed a kiss on your forehead. you flinched, stein was your doctor, your one and only..even if he makes you do that stuff with him again he only does it because he cares!

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 6 months ago

Note

you know how you did bg3 types of yanderes, could you do that for castlevania? Like the trio and isaac, hector, dracula/lisa, carmilla, st. germain??

A/N: For reference, here is the one I did for BG3 villains, and here is the one I did for the BG3 Main Companions. Also, this is unedited as hell so if you see grammar mistakes, no you didn't.

Castlevania Characters as Yandere! Types:

Yandere! Trevor:

Defensive. Calucative. Hardened. Trevor’s seen far worse than you, from humans and monsters alike. He knows the terror and the cruelty that lurks out there. He wants to shield you from it all, for as long as possible. He has this overwhelming need to prevent what happened to his family from happening to you. Even then, he knows your innocence won’t last; it couldn’t possibly. So long as you’re tied to him, you will know hardship. So as much as he babies you, and refuses to grant you complete independence, he is also distant, and frequently unaffectionate. In his line of work, people don’t die of old age; neither of you will be in the other’s life forever. Just let him love you the way he needs, when he asks for it, please. Everything else is so difficult in his life, you don’t want to add to that. Make yourself into the one piece of his life that is easy. And enjoy the easy while it lasts.

Yandere! Sypha:

Confident. Feisty. Unyielding. Sypha is always sure of herself. Everything she does, she does with 100% effort and full intent- your relationship is no different. From the moment she sees you, she’s sure she likes you, and she’s certain you like her. Any behavior that suggests otherwise on your part must simply be beginning relationship nerves. After all, she is a scholar and a Speak Magician. Her infectious optimism seeps out of her every pore. Her love for you knows no bounds, and she will not hesitate to throw herself into danger to prove it. I mean, she can conjure fire and ice instantaneously in her own two hands! Who wouldn’t want to be her partner? Only some sort of complete and total asshole would try and turn her down, or worse, fight against her. She fights for what is right, and what is just. You wouldn’t fight against what’s just, would you?

Yandere! Alucard:

Intellectual. Sharp. Melancholic. Alucard is not a stranger to romance nor heartbreak. Losing the people closest to him has left him vulnerable, both emotionally and physically. Instead of processing his feelings, he bottles them up, until he can no longer bear their weight. He feels such pressure to remain composed, remain controlled, not animalistic, to go against the programming of half of his biology. At the same time, he is starving, desperate, and filled with an insatiable thirst for closeness. Such a complicated, disconsolate man, Alucard needs you to stay, more than anything. His life has been so lonely, and so hard; at times it feels like all he knows is loss and the cruel impossible whispers of desire. You need to stay. You need to choose him. He cannot take another heartbreak. It’s quite possible, given his role throughout history, that humanity wouldn’t survive another one of his heartbreaks either.

Yandere! Isaac:

Keen. Precise. Self-Righteous. Isaac has journeyed far on his quest for revenge, coming not only into a new land and new role but a new self as well. Gone is the former subservient, sacrificial lamb, who has risen into a stronger, wiser, seemingly benevolent king. Do not mistake this kindness for weakness, however. You must be either admirable or too kind-hearted to pose a genuine threat. Once you’ve caught his eye, prepare for an odd game of cat and mouse, you being the mouse of course. Isaac is not used to having friends, much less romantic companions. You must be patient as he learns the intricacies of your psyche. Surely, you must know he’s been analyzing it since you met? Be an honest, positive presence in his life, and he will keep you safe from all others who may do you harm. Treat him as the wise king he now sees himself as, and perhaps, he will ask you to be his queen.

Yandere! Hector:

Reclusive. Embittered. Suspicious. Hector has been forced to toughen up. Too late did he realize at the end of the road, that it is the people, not the zombies you command that can make or break a man. That is where you come in my dear. Following Lenore’s death, Hector’s purpose is up in the air, he is suddenly a puppet, free of its strings. He feels much wiser, but just as lonely. Hector cannot help but latch on to you, the first “normal” person to view him as human. He yearns for a simple quiet life, with a dog (a live one) and a partner to call his own. You’re perfectly plain, or perhaps, you’re just odd enough to make him look normal, and he relishes that. You have to understand that he can’t share much about his past. He can’t possibly tell you about his old life, no, no, no. He’s hiding it from you, hells, he’s hiding from it with you. He loves you dearly, he does. But he can’t trust you, not fully. A man with a history like his cannot truly trust anyone.

Yandere! Dracula/Lisa:

Nurturing. Captivated. Smothering. Dracula was not keen on humans before meeting Lisa; she bewitched me body and soul. And now the two of them have become enthralled by you. Dracula has learned the ‘other’ humans are not to be trusted, not with you, and certainly not with his wife. Lisa finds it unfortunate how she is no longer able to treat her former patients in Lupu, but she’s also incredibly thankful now that she has you to take care of! Ever the eager student, she still wants to learn so many things, and how wonderful of a practice dummy you are. Dracula is also eternally grateful that his wife will not be completely lonely; he knows how much helping her fellow humans means to her, and now that you’re here, Dracula no longer has to worry about keeping his wife (and by extension, you) to himself for eternity.

Yandere! Carmilla:

Prepared. Calculating. Cruel. Carmilla is a sadist at heart, there’s no denying it. She loves feeling the power she wields over all other people, humans, and vampires alike. For you to have caught her attention, surely you must be something special. Either you are particularly gifted in something she’s not (negotiations, necromancy, art, etc.) or you’re just so unbelievably precious, that she can’t help but want to steal you away for herself. She sees you as a possession, as a rare and beautiful gem, not a person. Even if she did ‘hear’ anything you had to say, she’d simply consider it further fodder to be used in manipulating you should it all come to that. She is not a woman who is denied, not by God, not by man, not by Dracula, and certainly not by you. Chin up, pet. Things could always be much worse. You could be thrown in the dungeons and left to rot. How lovely of Carmilla to instead treat you to more luxury than your kind could ever dare to deserve. For your continued safety, may I suggest showing a little gratitude? I mean it’s not like your life depends on it or anything. It does.

Yandere! St. Germain:

Wise. Inquisitive. Obsessive. St. Germain is a man who knows his mind. He knows a great deal about alchemy, and that alchemy, at the end of his days, will be his greatest work. That was of course, all before he met you. You opened up a whole side of him that he didn't know existed. Before you, his conquest was kings and courts; his acquaintances were mages and scholars! But now, in his effort to keep you from himself, you have become his conquest; his acquaintances are vampires and demons, all practitioners of dark magic. To him, it’s of little matter, so long as he can secure you, his one true love. To him, it’s the most important to have someone to share all his knowledge with, all that he’s achieved. To bask in the victory alone does not hold the same merit. He needs you at his side, he needs you to be invested in the great work. Without you, without your love, he fears he cannot achieve it. As such, he will do whatever it takes to get you by his side. And I do mean- whatever- it takes.

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forever--darling · 2 years ago

Text

the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: it's been a week since the consciousness transfer and there is more to adjust to than just your new body. for starters, the approaching threat of the sky people and the preparations for war. or, that in an attempt to bring some light back into the world, mo'at finally announced the future olo'eyktan's mate. choices are to be made as both relationships with the sully brothers are still unclear. somehow, though your heart is already made up, and what about the perfect soldier? it brings up the question: duty or love?

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 18.1k (this is insane)

warnings/notes: the end at last, smut, minors DNI (18+ please), unprotected sex, slight choking, mating, swearing, mention of sky people, confessions upon confessions, neteyam being stupid but also completely obsessed with you, loose ends tied up, brother reconciliation, angst (has to be), crying, fluff, happy ending?

series masterlist | one of us: part eight (finale) | requests are currently open for now

Please, let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan his whole life had been compared to gunmetal, sharp arrows, and serrated teeth of the most vicious predator in Pandora. He resembled all of those things because he was a warrior, the best soldier, and a hero to many — or at least he would be once he won this war and became Olo’eyktan. Many people compared him to many things; all deadly, crenulated, and power filled. It was very deserving to be spoken of so highly and to that degree because Neteyam didn’t lose a fight.

He didn’t falter or show weakness, and like any soldier, had the ability to push down his feelings until they were so small and minuscule they were barely there. He was built and trained up since he was no more than a child preparing for this future, this prophecy, and this battle against the sky people. Neteyam Sully was Toruk Makto’s eldest son and in turn the best-prepared soldier for the upcoming war.

Those who saw him as all those things refused to realize that he was also Na’vi, not made of steel or unbreakable shields, but of humanity. His humanity and ability to have feelings were shown a mere week before as he stood in the middle of the village, a limp body strewn along his arms. The perfect soldier then was not unwarpable or without weakness. Just like old, warn, and overused things, he had broke in front of everyone. He is no robot, no man without emotions as no leader should be without a strong heart. Fearless, improbable, and also not one of the eldest son’s traits because he very much had feared. Feared losing the very woman no one would have ever expected him to fall for. In that brief time, everyone saw that heroes hold just as much humanity, and more so heroes have the ability to break.

But, please let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan had shattered and then when it was all said and done, with nothing left to cry for, his emotions were packed up and sent away again. Without even being fixed, he returned to being the hero that held the entire world on his shoulders. Because even if you asked and begged, Eywa would tell you just as anyone else that the world needed him. His hope, his strength, his courage, his leadership, and his strength. The world needs everything and he will give it all, including his heart.

It was no longer yours, not since the consciousness transfer, not completely. You wanted nothing more than to go to him when you woke up. You wished for him to reveal that he was flawed and breakable and somehow felt immensely for you. You wanted the whole world to know he was soft and that he was yours. You wanted to kiss him, feel him, know that the two of you could now have it — all of it while you still could. In that brief moment of clarity with all the walls built up before they came crumbling down again. It was only a matter of time, a matter of solitude before the storm would come and before the enemy would come.

Suddenly, everything had aligned and life was no longer at your fingertips. It was no longer outside of a large metal box or a sleep away. It was right here, right in front of your face. You went asleep for the last time in your original form and when you woke up with Toruk Makto staring down at you, hand cradling your face, you knew you had made it to your true form. You made it to your reality, your existence.

It all was in your grasp and you would never let it go again. You stared up at Vitraya Ramunong’s mauve neuron rods and you realized that this was why she had sent you back. With tears kissing your cheeks, you realized she had granted you this silent prayer so he could be soft and he could be yours.

Neteyam would give them everything until he was nothing but a shell of himself, nothing but an imprint of dust. He would give and they would take it all, anything he could spare. Neteyam would give them everything so she gave him you.

You were there because of him.

If only you could tell him that. If you were only given a minute, a spare moment, to say how irrefutably in love with him you were. If only Eywa could prolong a spindle of time so that if anything were to happen either of you could go with touched lips and empty mouths. You could go without anything else to say.

Somehow though as soon as you were okay and back in good health, you realized that where gunmetal can warp and tarnish, it can also be repaired. Arrows could be glued and dull teeth, sharpened. What once was could be again and you grasped that over the next week. A week full of weaponry dispenses, battle practices, meetings upon meetings of planning routes, and combat groups. The conversation revolved around the sky people, the territory they had long since crossed, and their weaponry only. Everyone had nearly forgotten about your visit with Eywa, the consciousness transfer, and you and Neteyam.

If you weren’t practicing flying your Ikran and shooting your bow or locked in the grasps of Tuk and Kiri, you were talking strategies with Jake. Somehow he had noticed that after all your training and previous knowledge of humans, there was a warrior buried deep inside of you. You had become an asset to him despite the close loss. If you had a moment to spare, you were constantly in search of Neteyam, just begging the Great Mother for more than a passing glance or nod of acknowledgment.

If you managed to see one another, you both would momentarily freeze and just stare at one another almost painfully, so many words needing to be said. There were so many times when he would try to mouth something to you but it never got far because he was swept away in a matter of seconds. Neteyam was busier than you were, having become his father’s right-hand man and despite only being nineteen was promoted to one of the generals of the operation. If he wasn’t training, he was for laying his father’s orders. He was no longer soft or yours but the mighty warrior once again.

Then if he had any moment at all, Tsahik was dragging him away to discuss whatever was required of him for his courtship. That was another thing that had happened, Neteyam’s mate had been announced, proudly to the clan. Mo’at thought it would help with providing calmness to the people. That despite the alarms going off in everyone’s head that there was something to celebrate, the manhood of their future Olo’eyktan and his future wife.

Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite — the finest young healer in the clan. She had been training with Mo’at for years, and somehow over the last six months, you hadn’t thought to see her as more than the Tsahik’s healer in training. You should have seen the signs and many reasons why she and Neteyam could be a perfect fit. She was intelligent, kind, and able to lead the people alongside him. Not to mention she was stunning with long wavy hair, a small curved nose, and perfect blue and ivory markings along her skin. She was the perfect choice for Tsahik and somehow at the news, it was hard to even hate her for it.

You wanted to. You wanted to hate her so bad but you knew that there was no point in it. No point in hating her when it was just as much out of her control as Neteyam’s. It wasn’t her fault that you had feelings for him or that despite most of the village realizing it that Mo’at continued to go forth with the arranged courtship anyway. It wasn’t her fault that Jake had actively noticed how his son felt about you and instead of stepping in or saying anything, he decided to stick his head in the sand and focus on the other problems that plagued the clan. Neytiri had tried to talk to her mother, to try and revert the match but despite her being the wife of Olo’eyktan, Mo’at still had say and control over the pairings. A pairing she didn’t see you fit for. They were to consummate their mateship and get married as soon as things slowed down with the sky people, possibly as soon as after the first battle and airstrike.

Of course, you had no idea what Neteyam was thinking or feeling because whenever you saw him, he was back to focusing on his duties, the weight everyone asked him to carry. It seemed even his own heart, soul, and suffering he was trying to manage. You would bear it, but it seemed he didn’t want you to.

A storm was coming and suddenly you had come to the conclusion that a moment would never be supplemented for you to be able to talk to Neteyam. The two of you were like the sun and the moon — revolving around one another, unable to touch and it didn’t matter how close you got, you would never meet. He was the sun, the source of your warmth, the ability for you to breathe. With such an effect to provide for everyone, came a price to pay. One that resembled a fleeting moment he shared with the moon at dusk and dawn because where he was the sun, he was the untouchable, uncurable, unfreeable. He wasn’t yours and because of the perfect soldier in him, he might never be.

“So, based on how they are approaching the village, we know they would invade from this direction. There are no other markings that are east of the village so there won’t be any of them over on that side. The only thing we have to worry about is them coming from the sky, which is where the group on the Ikrans will come in,” Jake was in the middle of the same spiel he had been going over for three days now with the same people: all of the riders and soldiers.

You found yourself glancing over past your eyelashes to Neteyam who stood on one side of Jake, as a right-hand man, and Lo’ak on the other. Even with his troublesome and risky behavior, he was still expected to fight and the sight of the two of them together now with faded green bruises and cuts shrunken down to small lines, you were unable to look away. You hadn’t spoken to Lo’ak yet about his proposal or the idea of you two mating because every spare moment was put towards Neteyam but where there was no conversation with Neteyam, it meant you weren’t able to have one with Lo’ak. He was getting antsy evident in the way his eyes found yours in a full room or he tried to catch you while you were alone after training. Somehow it hall had been avoided though.

“Neteyam and I will be with the airborne group,” Jake said then, his son’s name drawing your attention back to the importance of the meeting, “We will start here and fly there, waiting for a signal.”

“If you are a spotter you do not engage until you have to. We will take care of the first lines of fire and lead the attack,” Neteyam’s voice was serious as he glanced between the riders, the edge to his tone coinciding with that of a leader. His eyes flickered towards you but no longer than they had anyone else. You felt your stomach rise and fall just as quickly as he continued, “You’re spotters, you report, and that is all. When you see something, call it in, and then wait for further orders.”

Neteyam glanced around his father to Lo’ak who sent in a noticeable eye roll back. Jake knocked his elbow into the side of his youngest son and Lo'ak straightened up suddenly at the realization that his father had seen what he did in response to the future Olo’eyktan. A mutual understanding moved through the small crowd like a hush as Lo’ak nodded toward his father — everyone silently agreeing to listen to every word that Neteyam was saying.

This wasn’t another ‘what-if’ scenario or a hypothetical situation to use to prepare the people or yourselves. This was real and it was actually happening. Gone was the comfort that appeared with the ‘what-ifs’, a small understanding that no matter what was said or done they would remain as they were, a hypothetical situation. But now, things had inevitably changed. There was no putting this to sleep because it would still be the only thing thought about as soon as everyone left the room.

There was no going back to how things were; before the sky people, and their arrival. Ever since the night of your ceremony when Jake and Neteyam found them near the territory line, they were always there; not just in the forest slowly creeping closer and closer but in everyone’s minds. It was no longer a scenario but a possibility that would finally appear soon.

A few nights ago you had overheard Jake talking to Neytiri that if things begin to deter far in advance of the war, they should flee — protect their home for as long as they can but if it begins to go downhill, leave while they all still can. He had already advised many women and children to leave, and find shelter and solace within the mountains where he knew the technological advances could not operate. You were pondering how long it would take until he ordered everyone else to retreat, even the mightiest of warriors.

It was sure to happen because he wasn’t the same marine or Jake Sully he once was. The Toruk Makto had laid his reign to rest and now there was more at stake; his family. Before it was about honor and portraying a message about the quality of life. Many losses had occurred but for the greater cause of success. It seemed that even as the clan faced that same threat, Jake wasn’t as dedicated to the message, not if it meant losing the lives of many. He wouldn’t show it though, not to those still willing to lose their lives to protect their home. To protect their views, he would keep up the facade that he was the same leader he once was proud of.

“They’re coming and they aren’t going to stop unless we do something about it,” Jake said, a small hiss falling from his lips as he thought back to this long hard fight that had become his life, “They think that they can take whatever they want, but we have sent them this message before and we will do it again. That we won’t stop, not as long as they keep coming. We will fight. You will fly with me, your Olo'eyktan, and we will remind them that they can’t do this. They can’t take whatever they want while we’re still standing. So, prepare yourself, brothers and sisters, because they are coming, but they don’t realize that we’ll be ready!”

Cheers and hollers filled your ears as you looked around at the riders, spotters, and soldiers all soaking in every single word their brave leader had to offer. He had led them to victory once against the sky people and he would do it again. That was what all their faces said as they stared forward, with no moment to fear what could happen next or if they would even be alive to see that victory. His words shook you straight to your bones but you could only stare forward, in shock, as you took in the expressions of both of his sons. Lo’ak with one of his fists in the air, a grin was stretched across his face, almost satisfyingly as he thought about the violence that was soon to come. It was a look of vengeance, wanting and needing justice for all his people's pain.

Then there was Neteyam.

Please, let him be soft.

Strong, mighty warrior, Neteyam. He stood proudly, his hands on his hips, head tilted at the sight before him. Honorable future Olo’eyktan, Neteyam would follow his father to the ends of the world and would even let it take him if it meant he could save everyone else. He would sacrifice everything just to feel his father gushing with pride. That was who he was and suddenly like the worst realization, you knew it wouldn’t matter how much you wished for someone to just hear you, to let him be soft and be full of imperfections. You wished that he would walk away but that seemed like too big of an ask from you when the world needed him as much as it did.

Somehow his eyes found yours and his mighty statue faltered slightly under the weight of your gaze and your longingness. His lips curled slightly into a frown, one holding every emotion and every word you knew he wished he could say. That he felt for you in a way he didn’t for anyone else and that he could want you the way he did but it wouldn’t change anything. His look held so much admiration and softness, but even in it, you could see the harshness of reality — the one thing he could never say out loud. I can’t.

As if his proclamation meant nothing. As if losing you, or the fact that it had almost happened hadn’t done enough for him to leave his duties to the side. Like even though you were standing right there in front of him, everything he could want, he still couldn’t do this for you. He couldn’t go against what was expected of him at least not then, not with what was at risk. Suddenly as your heart constricted in your chest, his intense stare never leaving your trembling frame, it felt like you had been too stupid to fall under his spell. I see you. It suddenly had lost all meaning to your life.

As soon as Jake was done making his grand speech and the noise level had faded to a mere nothing, you found yourself sneaking out from the tent, beating the rush that was sure to follow. You felt his eyes drag over your back as you slipped out into the evening air, the sun beginning to set behind the tree line. A wind rippled along your skin, goosebumps being left in its wake as you approached your tent to leave your bow and chest guard.

The many voices of the rest of the riders and spotters filled the air as they began to exit from the tent. You hurried around the corner, eyes taking in the sudden dullness that seemed to have fallen over the area. The familiar dash of children was gone, instead, it was a mere memory as the village was now completely filled with soldiers, and riders, all decked out in armor and with weapons. The warmth that once was provided by the Omatikaya people had faded to a numbing fear that rattled everyone’s teeth.

Fear of the unknown, the fear of having to wait for the unknown. It was all that was on people’s minds and the days were no longer filled with meals, prayers, or times of celebration. In place of it, all was prepared for a war that could appear any day now. With everything, it felt like you hadn't been flirting with the possibility of death a few days prior or passed through the eye of Eywa. It was like you had never been human at all.

Somehow you integrated quickly, ideally, as if this was where you always were meant to be. It didn’t change the fact that every time you closed your eyes at night in your hut, you weren’t used to not having them open again in the link pod. It was the most significant adjustment, knowing you were no longer bouncing back and forth from one body to the other. You closed your eyes and opened them again in the morning with no interruption in between. That was your life now.

As you approached your tent, you heard the rushed footsteps from behind you as they bounced hurriedly across the dirt of the ground. You felt your heart pick up in your chest at the possibility of it being Neteyam but the feeling faded just as quickly as you heard the person call out to you.

“Y/N!” Lo’ak.

You sighed, peering over your shoulder, having should have known that it would be him over his older brother. Neteyam would never run after you like that. He was deliberate with even how he walked to protect his precious image from the rest of the people and he needed to seem calm and collected. Lo’ak’s face scattered in paint of orange and green, meaning he was probably about to go out on a spotting run and was just trying to catch you before. A quick conversation you hoped, as you still hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him you couldn’t accept his proposal.

“What, Lo’ak?” you asked, turning back to your tent, slipping inside.

"Wow," he followed, surprise forming on his face as he watched you place your bow down on the table, “Really, you’re not going to rush off this time?”

He had a point as for days you had been so concentrated on getting Neteyam alone, you were practically running at the sight of Lo’ak and his reckless confession that had left you backed up in a corner. A corner you now had to face head-on because what once was a hypothetical scenario had become your life overnight. You like a mighty soldier came out on the other side and now your future lay before you bare of any plans or decisions.

You were so blinded by the love you felt deep within your chest, you hadn’t thought any further than the way it had wholly consumed you. There was that word again, consumed. Consumption. Almost as if Neteyam’s love was water that would cure the dire thirst that had overtaken your lonely soul. Somehow the dire need had taken over every other physiological ask of your body.

Lo’ak had not been a priority but how could he have been when this obsession had once again become a “will they, won’t they” scenario.

“Y/N,” your name fell from his lips like the softest touch and you felt the recoil of your heart back into your chest, “If you plan to make a break for it I am not going to just let you go this time. Frankly, if you try to run off, I am just going to go after you and I think you remember that it is quite easy for me to catch you.”

You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder before you busied yourself again with removing the chest guard as well as the knife strapped to your waist, “You never stop do you? With the flirting?”

“Well why would I ever stop when I get to see that look on your face every time I do it,” he chuckled, eyes flickering over the fierce glare and the furrow in your brow that matched the same one you once had when you were human. Even though you now stood only a few inches shorter than him and with ivory-dotted skin, you still were so much like the you he once knew, all starting from the animated expressions that coated your face in life.

He reached forward his thumb brushing over the folded skin, “The crinkle right above your nose only ever shows up when you’re annoyed or angry. And you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

You smacked his hand away and sighed loudly not finding his affection welcoming in the slightest with the current circumstances at hand; the sky people, the guarantee of war, the possibility that any of them could die, the fact that he was still waiting for you to accept his ask to be his mate, or that he knew very well how you and his brother felt about one another. His flirting didn’t feel right in any way at that moment.

“Can you stop that, just… what is it, Lo’ak?” you sighed, rubbing the furrow he had been talking about seconds ago. You hoped it would disappear under your fingers, smoothing back to normal to keep him from feeling any more satisfaction. He knew your expressions and feelings inside and out, filling you with the worst dread, “Why are you here?”

“We need to talk,” he shrugged, casually as if the conversation he was hoping to have was just that but you knew better. Based on the glint in his eyes and the sly smile, you knew that nothing was casual at all about it and that with the charm laid on thick, he finally once again had you in that corner.

“Lo’ak…”

“No, I am not letting you walk away from this again. This can’t go on any longer,” he said, voice lowering as his hand extended forward as if it was going to touch you but it stopped mid-air due to the way your eyes hastily followed it. It fell back down to his side and you instantly felt guilty about it.

His mouth parted then as if he was going to say something else but you stepped forward, practically begging him not to, “Lo’ak, stop."

“Y/N,” he warned.

“Don’t say another word,” you professed, taking a step back away from him, “Not about this. Everything I said that night remains true and I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t let you do this, I can’t. I will not hold you back and diminish your chances of falling in love.”

“Y/N—”

“No!” you shouted then, feeling your shoulders shake at the exasperation of the word, “We can’t. You deserve better Lo’ak and I deserve better. Marriage and mating are not some solution so you don’t end up alone. I would rather be alone than become something you’ll resent. I won’t do that to myself.”

“You’re right,” he said, his words ringing out but muffled by the intense panic you felt as soon as his voice filled your ears.

“No, Lo’ak—”

“Y/N!” he raised his voice as both hands took your shoulders firmly. Shaking you lightly, your frantic eyes found his, finally flickering up from where you had been staring at the ground. You were met with a soft smile so loving and kind as a deep chuckle escaped from his mouth, “I said you’re right.”

“What?” your ears flattened slightly in shock as your eyes widened.

He laughed again, thumbs beginning to rub circles into the inside of your arms, finding the most amusement from the look on your face. “Look, I love you. I do, but not enough, and surely not as I should. Watching you and Neteyam this week, I realized that how I feel about you can’t compare in the slightest. And expectations or logistics of the future put aside, it would be wrong of me to make you settle for someone who doesn’t look at you the way he does. You deserve more than what I can give you and I am sorry I didn’t realize it earlier.”

The look hadn’t faded from your face, instead, it only deepend, your hands finding his arms, able to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, “Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “Plus, do you really think I want to be with a girl who would rather have my brother. No thanks.”

Your heart clenched in your chest, twisting and turning almost like you were about to be sick even though the look on his face resembled only amusement and laughter. Like his own joke was too funny not to laugh at himself. Your grip on his arms tightened unexpectedly, “I’m—”

“Shut up,” he cut you off, eyes narrowing at the way you were going to profusely apologize for something that had been completely out of your control the moment you had met Neteyam. Lo’ak even noticed it the first night, how you looked at his older brother like he had hung the stars. Even when he was less than welcoming during that first meeting, you saw the world in his eyes. “I’m fucking with you. It’s fine.”

“Is it?” you asked, hesitantly.

“Yes.”

You weren't convinced evident in the way your gaze fell back to the ground, not fully able to meet his eyes from the shame and guilt that was eating away at you. You had hurt him and led him on out of fear and it was inexcusable. With Lo'ak though, when it came to you he was always quick to forgive. Shown in the way, his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting your head so your eyes once again met his.

“I have been second to Neteyam my whole life in everything and I don’t think I could go through with being the person you’d settle for just because you couldn’t have him. You were always right about that, how we shouldn’t choose to be with someone to settle. If we had, I think it would’ve killed me. We would have truly been miserable,” he admitted sadly with a solemn smile overtaking his features.

You had felt your eyes well up at his words, at the pain that had decorated his face in the form of worried lines and battered scars. He was right, just as you had been a week ago and had been every day since. The two of you would have been miserable but it didn’t deny the sudden sadness that formed. The grief that had formed for your friendship that might just never be the same and the love you swore you could have felt for the Sully son in another life. In this existence, you weren’t meant for one another and your souls would never coincide but possibly in another life and another world they would have.

“I want you to know I was never angry with you that it was Neteyam you chose. Even with him getting everything, I could never be angry with you about that,” he squeezed your arms under his palms as he paused for a brief second before continuing, “The reason I was so upset was that I was afraid he was going to hurt you. I know my brother and I knew that duty comes first, it always would, so I figured Tsmandi would come first. But watching him this last week, watching him as we all almost lost you, I can see now that nothing will stop him from feeling how he does when it comes to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight leaving your entire body as you stared up at Lo’ak in slight awe. Not a single ounce of annoyance or jealousy filled his face, no spitefulness. When he said he loved you, he was telling the truth and when he said that it couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s feelings it was said with so much courage. There was no anger there laced within his wide eyes, but so much reassurance.

“When you came here Neteyam was a soldier who carried his mighty sword on his back. Before I would have told you that without a doubt he would stick to his orders, and his duties as the firstborn but he’s not the same person anymore. He is more than our father’s perfect little soldier but our future Olo’eyktan. He has a strong heart. He’s fit to be a ruler and to lead the clan to victory. But most of all, a man with a strong heart doesn’t take orders from anyone.”

“No, stop that,” you denied, suddenly, his words too much. Your face fell as you thought back to the last few days ever since you woke up from the transfer in a haze, a desperate haze for Neteyam's attention. He was and always had been the soldier the world expected of him. “Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

“But it is true.”

He would give them everything. He wasn’t soft, and he wasn’t yours.

You shook your head and sniffled, “No.”

He was a king’s son and there was no room for love among duty. It was inevitable and Lo’ak’s words only drilled holes in the hope he had built up seconds before.

“Yes it is and you’re being stupid,” Lo’ak said then effortlessly and it stung as it slid in past your chest.

Your eyebrows knitted together again, “Lo’ak!”

“Well you are,” he laughed, shaking his head, “You’re being just as stupid as he is. You’re stupid and in complete denial. It’s like you don’t realize you hold his heart in your hands. His feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. Neteyam is a ruler, yes with no fear, but I never said that a king sometimes doesn’t need a little push here and there.”

There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David’s boy. He will tear your city down…

An English poet once wrote that “there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

Neteyam never knew who this man was or what he did that made his life so damn significant. He just saw him as he was, a sky person that once lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, facing the same idealistic problems that seemed to also be consuming his world. No, the future Olo’eyktan couldn’t care less about William Shakespeare but more about what he said. There is a tide in the affairs of men. In reality, the saying meant more having come from his father, first told to the young boy when he was no more than ten years old. The marine himself had heard it from Norm not long after he had arrived on Pandora.

The famous line stuck with Jake after all these years and he then passed it on to his oldest son, who seemed he would need it one day. That evening, sitting in the dark tent, the newest crafted bead on his songchord being rubbed between his thumb and forefinger, that was all he could think about. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

There was a possibility of violence and war soon approaching followed by a long line of grief and all he could think about was that damn poet’s line his father had told him time and time again the older he got. Neteyam sat near the doorway of the tent and peered out towards the darkness of the forest while the sound of his father’s voice faded in the background accompanied by the taking apart and putting back together of guns. One pulled apart sat at Neteyam’s feet but he had lost interest in the weapon long after the sun had set.

His mind drifted then to where it always seemed to end up, you. More specifically, the way you had looked at him during the meeting earlier that evening, the disbelief and the pain that had overtaken your face. The complete betrayal you felt as the days were fading away quickly, days where he was still free and not some other woman’s.

He had held you with your last dying breath and said the most intimate words anyone could say within the clan and yet, he stood there across the room acting as if they meant nothing. To him, it was the most significant thing he had done in his life, but in a minor lapse of judgment, he had let the rest of his responsibilities appear again and take away his attention. Where every day passed until he and Tsmandi would be asked to be mated, also was another day gone until the sky people attacked the village. It was just a matter of time which one would occur first.

He felt his disappointment in himself increase as well as a wave of anger at his lack of awareness. He already almost lost you once and Eywa couldn’t promise the two of you a lifetime together or years to come of oblivious bliss. Nothing was promised and he was sitting there wasting every second for a battle that very well could kill him.

“Neteyam,” the sound of Jake’s voice pulled him back into the present.

He was clutching the bead so tightly in between his fingers, it had slipped and the entire songchord had fallen onto the ground. He hadn’t even noticed the absence that was left within his grasp. Not bothering to pick it up, his eyes expectantly found his father’s. The gun he had been putting back together sat in his lap in pieces, but he had paused to get Neteyam’s attention. His brows were raised curiously and a small curl was starting to appear on his lips. A look that Neteyamw wasn’t quite sure he had seen before.

Jake then nodded towards the entrance of the tent, his ears flickering as he did so, “Go on.”

“What?” Neteyam asked, unsure if he had heard him correctly.

“Go on,” he repeated, nodding his head again, “If I know her as well as I think I do, she won’t wait forever.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened then, hands dangled across his knees as he tried to process the words he never thought he would hear but felt himself reveling in for moments on end. Brows furrowed slightly, he felt as if it had been too good to be true because there was certainly no way. “But Dad—”

“You’re a good warrior Neteaym,” Jake complimented as his hands began to fiddle with the weapon in his lap just as a sudden emotion appeared in his voice, “But you’re destined to be a ruler someday, to become the next Olo’eyktan. An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.”

“No fear,” Neteyam repeated slowly, still unsure if any of it was real.

“Now, go. I will handle your grandmother.”

Jake’s final words were all the confirmation that Neteyam needed. Picking up his songchord and gripping it tightly in his palm, Neteyam rushed out of the tent, leaving the burdens and the ripped-apart gun behind. Able to feel the way the moon and the stars reflected across his skin in the dark, he couldn’t help but pause outside the tent and peer up at the sky. A soft smile began to pull at his lips and in that brief pause of time, he sent up the quietest whispers of gratitude to the Great Mother. Then as if the world had finally felt like it was going in the right direction, he tightened his hold around the songchord as a new sense of determination formed. It took hold around the base of his stomach, filling him with the greatest fire known to man; pertinacity.

With hurried steps, he made his way across the village, your tent in sight. He could see the dim lighting from the lantern inside and he felt himself holding his breath as he reached for the flap of it. What would you say when you saw him there practically groveling for forgiveness, for a chance to prove himself? How would he properly say in so many words that he was wrong and that it had always been you? It’s you. Even as the world was starting to cave in around him, it was you he thought about and dreamed about. It was you and he had been entirely stupid for so long.

He took a deep breath, fingers clutched around the fabric but as he went to pull it back, he was distracted by the sound of a loud whistle. It made his ears twitch and he found himself turning to locate the loud noise. His hand fell away from the tent as he found Lo’ak just a few feet away slowly approaching, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a look on his face Neteyam couldn’t quite decipher. Some lingering yellow markings were still pressed along the younger brother’s temple and arms, but they were practically invisible in the dark. A week ago, Neteyam had only looked at Lo’ak with hatred and with his fists balled tightly together, a feeling that had never been there before when it came to his younger brother.

Now as they stood only a few feet from one another, in front of your tent, still having never addressed that night, Neteyam felt his stomach tighten again. Not only in guilt about what he had done but also in slight anger as his resentment and jealousy still lingered under the surface. Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate, and Neteyam still didn’t know what the outcome would be or what you had even decided to do. He refused to be in a room with Lo’ak unless it had something to do with the ongoing conflict with the sky people, so now standing there in the darkness of the village, there was an obvious amount of tension that still lingered.

Lo’ak nodded in the direction of the forest behind him, shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You just missed her. I am sure you could still catch her though.”

Neteyam heard the words and slowly felt his stoic expression and rigid stature fade. His fists unclenched and his ears flickered curiously. His lips parted slowly, in surprise as he glanced from his younger brother to the forest practically calling his name, “Lo’ak—”

“You’re the better man,” he said, cutting him off and shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You always were. I was just too stubborn to get out of your way.”

The future Olo’eyktan found himself shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe that his younger brother thought he was the only one at fault here. They both had been. Things had only fallen apart because of their indignation toward one another and their incessant need to push down all of their real feelings until they no longer felt as if they existed. It was something they both had gotten from their father and it had shown with how they chose to handle this whole situation, with violence.

“I have always been too hard on you, Lo’ak. It's unfair.”

The younger Sully laughed, his chest rumbling slightly almost as if he was trying to brush off all the seriousness that was forming, “It is what is expected of you. You should be hard on me because I need it. We’re not kids anymore Neteyam and I need to start taking responsibility for my own actions. I have been letting you do it for far too long. So please hear me and believe me when I say that I was wrong about this. I knew how you felt about her and even when I saw how she so obviously looked at you, I chose to ignore it.”

“You were doing what you thought was right, I can respect that,” Neteyam replied honestly, his eyes softening at the sight of the pained expression plastered across Lo’ak’s face.

“No, I was trying to be you.”

His brows furrowed at Lo’ak’s admission, lips curling slightly into a frown at the emphasis of the word you. Something that he never expected to hear. “What do you mean?”

“I was trying to be you. I thought I was protecting her… that I could protect her, but I’m not you. I was wrong, Neteyam because she never needed my protection. I was scared that you would hurt her, that somehow your duty, your need to put everyone else first would wreck everything. I was trying to protect her, but I can’t do that because I’m not you. I am not made to be a ruler.”

There is a tide in the affairs of men.

I am not you.

Neteyam felt his deep inhale get lodged within his chest at Lo’ak’s words, ripping what was left of the walls he had built up to pieces. Ears pulled tautly back, he stepped forward and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his younger brother’s shoulder, “Lo’ak, it is a good thing. I wouldn’t want you to be me. I wouldn’t want you to carry these burdens. It’s suffocating.”

Lo’ak’s head fell slightly, almost like he was guilty he was the younger son, free of more responsibilities and expectations. Even though it had not been his choice, he felt guilty that Neteaym was the one who had his future completely planned out for him, that because of their birth order, his brother was unable to fully commit himself to you.

Neteyam squeezed his shoulder lightly, “I am glad it’s not you, Lo’ak. I am so relieved that you are who you are. I know the guilt you must feel but it’s not a weight you should waste time bearing. This wasn’t a choice you made and you need to let it go. Yes, you’re not me. You’re not a perfect little soldier, but believe me, it’s not a title worth having.”

The honest sentiment was strong as it settled deep within Lo’ak’s chest suddenly breaking through all the resentment that had been there for years. The outcast. The wrong brother. The mess up. It all no longer mattered as he stared at Neteyam because for years while he had been so busy trying to hate him and make his life harder, he failed to realize just how unlucky the firstborn really was.

It was never that Neteyam got everything he wanted but rather was given everything without a choice in the matter. Everything and everyone’s approval he hadn’t asked for. In exchange the pressure to be perfect, to do everything right, and to never disappoint. The reality that had been looming over them their whole lives was that Neteyam wasn’t the lucky son, not in the slightest, just the one that held the entire family and world in his hands.

It surely was a responsibility Lo’ak was relieved he would never have.

“I mean look what it has gotten me,” Neteyam said then, shame covering his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the tent, “I have hurt her. I have continuously hurt the only woman I have ever had feelings for.”

“Feelings?” Lo’ak asked, eyes narrowing as he observed the reaction that overtook his brother’s face from the question, “You love her then?”

It was a softness Lo'ak had never seen on his brother’s face before. It was like all worry and all weight had left him in a matter of seconds. What was left was a mere admiration for the woman who was sitting waiting in the woods. She had left to pray to Eywa, to ask for answers for her heartbreak that seemed to be inevitable but the answer was as clear as day and standing right in front of Lo’ak. It was the soft lift of the corners of Neteyam’s lips to the coruscated flash in his eyes.

“Y-Yes.”

Lo’ak nodded, slightly surprised that Neteyam finally admitted it but somehow not surprised by the response that finally confirmed everything. It had always been there under the surface. The answer to the very question he asked moments ago, but to actually hear it out loud was foreign.

“You should go,” Lo’ak said then, glancing briefly over his shoulder to the forest and the direction you had disappeared to, he could only assume to the spot Neteyam had introduced you to.

Neteyam’s face pinched together for a moment, brows furrowing as he tried to analyze Lo’ak’s expression and his sudden need to send him off into the forest. It was almost as if his younger brother couldn’t handle any more of the conversation. The younger Sully stepped back, putting some more space in between them.

As Neteyam was going to say something more, he was silenced quickly as Lo’ak raised his hands, “I am fine. It’s fine, really. I am just saying you shouldn’t waste any more time. You should go.”

He agreed silently and knew then that after everything that had happened; the tension, the arguments, that fight that broke out somehow this one conversation had healed all wounds. It had healed those very blows that had been sent to Neteyam’s chest and had brought the worst rage out of him. The betrayal he felt seeped away and somehow nothing was left but the forgiveness and understanding that clouded his mind. It was a reconciliation that had somehow seemed to fix all of the things from over the years of growing up under the same roof, always in competition, acting as if their father’s pride was something to be won.

Lo’ak for years had felt that he had always come second and that he would never be Neteyam. It wasn’t a disagreeable aspect anymore but rather something he could learn to see as understandable. He didn’t want to be Olo’eyktan, not really, and that came with all the standards laced within the title. For the first time in years, there was an understanding between the two, an acceptance of sorts and it all started and ended with you.

Neteyam slipped by Lo’ak, the confirmation of you being in the forest already guiding him to a certain place he was sure you'd ran off to. The only place either of you'd end up when it was this late and with dangers lurking around. It was the only spot either of you would wait for the other and it brought the most comfort when times were dire and destructive. There was no knowing what would fall upon the forest the next day or the day after. No guarantee of what would happen to the clan, to the village, to the people, and to those who were about to put their lives at risk for the entirety of their belief system.

Neteyam very well could die tomorrow and now suddenly all he could wish for was to have one night. One night where you could be his and he could be yours, completely, honestly with nothing else wedged between the two of you. He wished to have you, to feel your skin beneath his fingers, to memorize the way you would look up at him, and the way you would say his name. Most of all he just wanted you to promise him that it wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t fucked things up that bad.

He needed to hear that despite everything you loved him.

Just as his feet reached the tree line, Neteyam stopped at the sound of Lo’ak calling out to him again. Turning around, he found his younger brother sending him a proud smile, one that reached his eyes, not an ounce of sadness or disappointment to be shared between the two. “Just take care of her okay?”

A single nod was all that was expressed from the older Sully, the man who had fallen so irrevocably in love he couldn’t imagine doing anything else for the rest of whatever time he had left — take care of you was the only thing at the top of his list. Fuck the responsibilities. Fuck the arranged marriage or the expected mateship. Fuck the control his grandmother seemingly wanted over who his partner was going to be.

Jake’s words rang around in Neteyam's ears as he turned back towards the forest and stepped inside.

An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.

He found himself suddenly picking up his pace, the wind brushing along his skin as he began to run. His knife clattered across his thigh from the holder around his waist colliding with his songchord as he brushed past the brush and tree branches. His eyes were set forward in the dark, the lush glow of the forest the only thing to guide him as he felt his lungs begin to burn. They burned for air as his legs began to ache. Sweat was forming along his brow but the only thing his mind was set on is getting to you.

No fear. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again. Simply, because he didn’t fear much. He never gave a second thought to what his father asked of him. Being a soldier and the talk of war never scared him somehow. He prepared his whole life to someday die in battle but you, somehow telling you how he felt was so much worse. The idea of actually admitting it out loud to you was the scariest thing he'd ever do. Letting himself fall for you was something that took more courage than he would ever care to admit. Because loving you meant he was going against the crown, the expectations, and the future wife that had been chosen for him. He was going against the prophecy that Mo’at had laid before him.

As he slowed near the familiar trees and mangled brush, it felt as if the Great Mother had another plan for him all along. Almost as if she had brought you back for him and him alone. There was a great plan, a future that would be laid out before him and he felt that Eywa was promising that you would be the one by his side.

He held his breath as he pushed the brush aside and stepped swiftly through the forest spotting you from beneath the trees. You stood near the base of the river, arms wrapped around yourself as you stared forward at the water, tracing the ripples with your eyes. Lips pursed, you shifted from side to side seemingly lost in your thoughts, so much so you didn’t hear his approaching steps. Neteyam stopped just a few feet away, allowing himself a few seconds to admire you, your side profile, and the way your hair fell effortlessly across your shoulders. The top half was pulled back out of your face and laced together in a small braid, leaving a few pieces to frame your face. Your smooth skin reflected the sheer lights of the water and he couldn’t help but trace the slope of your nose and the slight purse in your lips.

He hadn’t been this close to you since the night among the mauve tendrils, the night among the Tree of Souls where you collapsed in his arms. Where he had bared every pain that was painted across his soul to you. He could still picture the way your face was dosed with salty tears, aching and begging for him to understand. I trusted you. His pained words still echoed in his ears now but it seemed things had changed so much since that fateful night a week ago.

It was as if you were the one now who felt betrayed, heart twisting at the thought of him being with someone else. Entirely the same way he had felt when he had found out Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate. Except for the way you stared into the empty river, gaze void of any warmth he knew somehow you were feeling far worse than even he had.

Neteyam had known what it felt like to feel the one slipping through his grasp to another, he knew what it was like to feel so betrayed and heartbroken at the way reality messed with your perception. He had felt the wounds strike his being and somehow even with knowing all of that, he had bestowed it on you. A feeling he hadn’t wished to befall anyone had been passed off to you and the guilt was choking him.

A click of your tongue filtered in through his ears and as he took a brief step forward, your body turned in his direction. Instantly, you froze, surprised to find him standing there, eyes locked on you in the dark. His gaze shamelessly traced the shape of your body and you found yourself in silence watching him as he did so. Your heart had picked up in your chest as a heat of some sort started to pool in the base of your stomach due to how delicately it felt like he was tracing your skin. You hadn’t heard him approach and now to have him standing there before you after so long, it had filled you with so many emotions. So much love and so much pain as he was there in front of you, soon to belong to someone else.

He watched the glass form across your eyes as the pained expression filtered across your features. The obvious furrow of your brows and the twitch of your lips held his attention away from your smooth exposed skin. You were glued to your spot, the frustration pricking at the nerves of your body, filling you with a numbing rage at the sight of him. You had craved it for a week, needed it with every fiber of your being to see and talk to him. Days ago you needed him to promise you and reassure you that there was nothing to worry about. That Tsmandi would not be his and he would not be hers, but he never came. He never let those reassurances leave his tongue and now somehow the sight of him in the only spot that brought you tranquility felt poisonous. As if it all had become toxic.

You turned away from him then, arms tightening around your waist as you found solace in the appearance of the blue water rather than his gold eyes. A lump had formed in your throat and the painful bob of it left you trying to conceal the tears that were starting to well in your eyes. Tears of anger as he stepped closer, his gaze burning holes into the side of your head. His shoulder brushed yours softly as he let his stare drift from the side of your pinched face to the river before him, the sound of the waterfall sinking into his ears.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled softly as he thought back to that night all those months ago when you sat at the bank underneath the stars for the first time. It was the first time he had ever told someone about the nightmares he barred on his back as well as the first time he had let himself acknowledge his feelings for you.

It felt as if the two of you had grown so much since then, aged at least five years instead of just the one. Somehow in a course of almost a year, he was no longer that delirious young boy, desperate for his father’s approval. No, he had become a strong warrior, skin coated in the toughest armor and a future of reign in his grasp. He felt like a true man as he stood next to you, a woman he wished to give his entire self to. He felt honorable and worthy and powerful. That was how you made him feel even when you wished to recoil from him, even when you wished to run and let the fear guide you away deep into the forest.

“It’s seemed like we have lived an entire life since the first time I brought you here,” he said suddenly, stare flickering back over to you, satisfied in the way your ears twitched and you turned your head slightly to him, his words practically guiding you back to him. “We were both so young and naive that night. It was the first time I felt you break through my resolve. It was then that I knew I was beginning to feel something for the girl who appeared in the forest. It was like you were a gift from Eywa herself.”

Your brows furrowed, lips forming into a frown as you looked over at him, to meet his eyes. The look in them took you by surprise and suddenly you found the anger ravaging you as you met his soft gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me. It isn’t fair of you.”

He ignored your reply as well as the annoyance that dripped from your lips, “It was like you were sent here to save me.”

His hand dropped to his side and examined your expression as his pinky brushed delicately across the skin of your outer thigh, just below your hip bone. You sucked in a breath past your teeth and felt your hands tense around your body at the feeling of his warm touch and the satisfied smirk that appeared on his lips. A pang appeared in your chest and you felt the lump in your throat get larger. You glanced down at his hand as it glided across your hip bone again, while his tall looming body seemed to envelop your senses completely.

You granted yourself a moment to divulge in the feeling, to let it shoot to your core and the desire you felt for the man before you, the undesirable, the unattainable. But then you felt your body's hotness turn to rage as he took another step closer to you, his eyes half-lidded and scanning your face. You shook your head and found yourself hissing at him, your hand roughly pushing his away.

“Ftang (stop)!” you demanded, the warning in your voice void of any warmth as your eyes narrowed in his direction, a pained huff following from your parted lips, “What are you doing, Neteyam? Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don't,” you said, sticking your hand out to keep him an arm's length away. If you were going to have a conversation you needed to have a clear mind to do it and you couldn't have a clear mind with him hovering over you.

“What, you don’t have some dinner or meeting tonight with your future wife to talk about wedding logistics?”

“No,” he said simply, refusing to step back even with your threatening gaze.

“What do you mean, no? You are to be married, yes?” you asked, suddenly confused as it was all the village had been able to talk about for the past week. It was the only topic of importance other than the sky people and the intended doom that would soon fall upon the land.

“I don’t wish to marry any woman unless it’s you,” he admitted, reaching up so his fingers ghost over your cheek. He brushed a piece of hair that was framing your face back behind your ear and you hated the flush that appeared on your face. He smiled as his eyes flickered down to your lips still parted in confusion.

His words hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks, words you had only ever thought you would have heard in your dreams. They were all you had wanted since the night he had come to you in the healing tent since he had cupped your cheek and whispered the very confession that had confirmed every feeling he had had.

He had barred his soul and for the last week, you had been left in the dust, left to contemplate your future before you. You watched him as he entertained the idea of mating with the chosen women for him, as he contemplated it to please the village and the people. You had been left in a spiral of pain wrenching and pulling at every will of yours to live while he had been squaring away every duty asked of him.

You shook your head, feeling the cringe of your lips as you reached up and shoved his hand away from you. You stepped back, lips quivering slightly as your eyes stared daggers into his, “No.”

“Yes,” he replied, trying to reach out for you again, confused by your sudden need to recoil from him.

“No,” you took another step back away from him, the twist of your lips matching the way your heart felt in your chest, “Ftang nga (stop that)! You’re being mean, Neteyam.”

His brows furrowed, standing tall as the small quiver of your lips held his attention, “What, how am I—”

“I waited for you,” you uttered indignantly, as the pained look in your eyes seemed to amplify, “For days, I waited. Waited for you to come to me and say something, anything. All I needed was some reassurance, hear something that confirmed I hadn’t wasted my time on you.”

“Y/N—”

His heart ached at your words and his guilt seemed to intensify as you only wished to push him away even further for the pain he had caused you. After everything, you felt so disgusted and hurt by the distance he had put between the two of you. He had been so caught up with his father, with planning for the attack, that he hadn’t even spared a single moment for you. A moment to express his feelings and reassure the anxieties that had been preying on your innocence for far too long.

“They announced your courtship with Ms. Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite, the next Tsahik. I waited and you still didn’t come. You let me believe that you were going to marry her, that you once again would choose your duties over me. I waited for you,” you repeated, eyes welling torturously with tears as your breath was ripped from your throat.

His shoulders fell slightly, as the single phrase I waited for you seemed to hold just as much weight as your previous admission. The way I feel about you is consuming. Except where that one had actively repaired every damage he had ever felt like a precious oath, this one brought out nothing but dread in him.

As if those four words were a farewell and you would soon disappear from his sight, back into the forest where you had come from. Like the words were a confirmation that he was incapable of fixing what he had done, the hurt he had caused. He was standing before you offering to throw every caution to the wind, offering to risk it all; his reputation, his reign, his expectations, for you. It took him too long to have realized it but now that he had, a silent prayer was cast across his heart that it wouldn’t be too late.

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” he professed anguished as you seemed to only be pulling away from him, “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting. I should have come to you, talked to you, and told you everything that has been on my mind since the night in the healing tent. I was scared Y/N. I am still so fucking scared. I almost lost you. You collapsed in my arms, in my fucking arms and I—I can’t. I can’t bear the thought of it, especially now with the sky people closing in.”

“It’s not something you can guarantee, Neteyam,” you said, softly, staring intently up at him and the sudden vulnerability that was plastered across his features, “You can’t assure you’re going to protect me through this. This war is unpredictable and your protection can’t be promised.”

“It has to be,” he mumbled out, face pinched together and hand hung in the air, desperately trying to reach out to you, “Y/N, not even for a second, was I considering marrying Tsmandi. You need to know that. This week it was never my intention to blindside you or keep the whole thing from you. I never thought about it even if it were my duty. I couldn’t, not when my heart solely belongs to you."

“Neteyam,” his name fell from your tongue breathlessly but no other words followed.

“It’s always been you. From the moment I saw you in this very forest, cowering behind my baby sister as no more than a stranger.”

You shuddered, every desperation and need for him evident in the way you seemed to lean closer as if his words were the secret password to your being. Like he could put you back together simply by the way he looked at you alone and his sweet words. You stared up at him, so close to offering him what was left of the dying organ in your chest.

It was a lost hope and even as it anatomically was healthy enough, beating away in your chest, the phantom pain was strong and killing every will you had left. This man had played with your feelings, spun you around on his finger as he tried to decide whether he wanted you. You had stood by, letting his control over your feelings be something he could hold over you.

Somehow even with what he had put you through, the long excruciating week of tears and the fears of the unknown, you found yourself holding onto every single word he professed. You were giving in and the thought terrified you. It terrified you that somehow he would be convinced to forget about you, to leave you once again, in favor of his throne and the means of doing what was expected of him. You were cautious, cautious as you offered him everything you had left of yourself.

“You aren’t being fair,” you professed, your heart rate so loud it echoed in your ears as every last conscientious thought seemed to be escaping from you. Like at any moment you would be out of excuses and let him graciously take you.

“No, but I am not lying about how I feel either. I never have. Oel ngati kamele (I see you).”

Those three words seemed to bring you to reality. They hit you so hard, you felt you were back in that tent just before the consciousness transfer. He repeated them just as earnestly and desperately, needing you to believe him. Needing you to say it back as if his sanity depended on it. Like the thought of you denying him would break him entirely.

Somehow though at the sound of them in your ears, you felt nothing. The meaning was gone and instead, you were left with an ache from the absence of the feeling his words once brought you. At that moment, you had let the fear take over and steer you away from the same desperation you were feeling as he was. For so long you had tiptoed around one another, had hurt each other in favor of protecting yourselves.

Now with all the possibilities there just at the tips of your fingers, you felt the fear rush through your veins like ice water. Coldness and spite were all you could feel then for a brief moment as you thought back to the night among the Tree of Souls. How you had poured everything out to him and he turned his back on you as if it was the easiest thing. He looked down at you with your chest open and exposed, and spat in your face. He had torn you to pieces shamelessly and you could still remember it evidently.

He looked as you had that night, staring down at you with the same look you once had. He was offering you everything, scarily so, a dire need for you to accept him. To say yes. Your hold on him was just as strong as his and this time he didn’t hide it. He didn’t hide his need for you. His need that filled his entire body with shock waves and desirous fantasies. His need to combine his soul with yours for the rest of time, so that you would never be apart again. He didn’t hide how much he needed you, how much he needed your kiss to grant him life.

It was all there within his eyes, his gold wide eyes, speckled with every true feeling he had. You felt petty then as you stared up at him hoping to fill him with just as much dejection as he had to you.

“You aren’t capable of seeing.”

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. That’s how you felt like sometimes there weren’t enough words in the world to heal every wound. It was evident by the angry tear that slipped past your water line. It slid down your cheek, your skin still smooth and bright under the luminescence of the forest. He followed it as it settled in the corner of your lips.

It was harsh. Cruel even to deny both of you this. The possibility of finally being together, but your pride was bent too much and somehow you just couldn’t put the hurt you felt aside — not after everything. You couldn’t.

The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. He stared at you utterly confused and hurt, not understanding that his ignorance this past week had caused you so much pain. So much that you would walk away from him completely. Suddenly the weight had returned, the weight of a broken heart. Somehow it was far worse than any weight he had felt before. He finally saw that all he wanted was you, and the thought of losing you completely to his stupidity was maddening.

You turned from him, shaking your head slightly as if you couldn’t look at him for another moment longer. One more glance was sent to the water, the river filled with far too many memories, memories of him and you. You knew then that it didn’t matter how much you loved him, you wouldn’t be a woman who groveled, or who would beg for him.

There wasn’t a word or anything that he could say that would stop you from walking away.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Except there was that.

You felt your breath get lodged in your throat, your steps halting from where you stood a few feet away. Fingers twitching at your sides, you found your eyes locked forward at the darkness of the forest as shock drenched your body. Lips slightly parted, you felt your heart stop completely in your chest at the sound of those three words escaping his lips. Words you never expected him to know let alone say.

Somehow they felt heavier than I see you. They spoke to the human you once were and they felt heavier on your being and your consciousness. They held so much more meaning and feeling to you and somehow you found they had stopped all of your efforts to leave. You closed your eyes for a moment.

He had you.

With a strangled cry on your tongue, you suddenly turned slowly to face him, knowing he controlled every fiber of your being. You were a puppet on strings and he was the sole puppet master.

He stood by the bank, chest puffed out, eyes desperately trying to find yours. They quickly traced your tears and swollen lips as every honest look about him swelled across his face. He wouldn’t let you go, you knew that. After everything, he couldn’t but at that moment you wished he would set you free more than anything. Set you free from the pain that panged you so profoundly. Because it would be far easier than ever to grant either of you this. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan owned you and he held your heart in between his palms and the thought terrified you.

You shook your head, lips quivering as he slowly approached you each step sending your senses in over drive, “No. Neteyam, no.”

He stopped in front of you and he saw it then with your true feelings reflected in your tears. You were scared, absolutely terrified. The thought to feel so consumed by someone was scaring you away from him and he understood it. Stood there beneath the stars, he understood it completely. Because god forbid you give yourselves to each other and somehow this war destroys it. Somehow one of you loses the other, left to wither and collapse under the weight of grief. Eywa forbid one of you is returned to her far sooner than expected.

He felt his own tears fill his eyes as he reached out, hands taking your arms softly. Hesitant for a moment, he found his stare flickering up at the sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Uncertainty plagued his mind then, only wanting what was best for you and for him. As he peered up though, he felt his chest tighten unexpectedly at the sight of an atokirina floating right above his head, emitting a soft glow. He felt his stomach clench and then relax by the sign it brought. Suddenly then, he had never been more sure in his life.

“I’m in love with you,” his eyes fell back down to you and a soft smile appeared across his lips as he leaned closer, “I know I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you. Not after how I have treated you all this time.”

You felt a sob fall from your tongue as all reserves seemed to crumble before you at his feet. I’m in love with you pushing every single insecurity you felt away. It was branded across his eyes and made your whole body feel as if it was going to collapse in his arms. It was the clearest he had ever been and it had you falling apart at the seams.

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. Words weren't enough but those were. To you, those words were everything and more.

It didn’t matter then to you that you were terrified of losing him or that he was promised to another woman. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be Olo’eyktan and all of these expectations hung heavily on his shoulders. None of it mattered anymore that every sign had pointed to the two of you not being able to be together because he was in love with you. He was in love with you and Eywa seemed to have blessed the match willingly. She had brought you back for a reason, for this, for him.

Let him be soft

Let him be mine.

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, it overwhelming you as he cradled you softly. His thumb traced your jaw so carefully as his eyes bore straight into your soul.

“From the moment you got here, I was condescending, rude, too absorbed in myself, and still am. I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you, for months, and this last week I found myself still trying to do that. I have been so blind and so fucking stupid. Not only was I focused on the fact that I almost lost you but the impending war. I have been awful and confusing. I admit that I have done so many things, so many horrible things, but here I am, begging you to love me anyway.”

His voice broke then, his thumb moving along your jaw to your temple and the tear stains that were stuck along your skin. His heart ached for you then and he knew that he wouldn’t go on if it meant you couldn’t be his mate. He needed you like he needed air and the thought of living another day without you was murderous.

“I am no perfect solider. I am flawed and am more difficult than I would ever like to admit, but I am a man who desperately loves you,” he whispered, leaning closer, his intense stare devouring you whole, “I am offering you everything, everything I have. I have done so many terrible things, I know that. But please, just tell me that despite it all you love me.”

His other hand which was gently wrapped around your arm slipped to your waist. As his warm fingertips pressed along your skin, you felt an exhale escape from your parted lips. Your body shuddered, out of instinct, and you leaned closer to him enough that his chest was almost pressed firmly against yours. At his lingering touch, you felt the warmth in your stomach begin to pool more just as another small breath escaped from your mouth.

His hand flattened against your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your entire body felt hot then as your eyes flickered shamelessly from his dilated pupils to his parted lips. Lips that had been on your mind every night for months. Lips that you had wished would claim yours day after day, night after night.

Tell me you love me.

You gasped at the feeling of his heart beating profusely in his chest, clashing with your own. Your eyes then snapped up to his wide ones as he stared down at you. He was waiting for what you would say next, waiting for what you would do next. The desperation was evident, interlaced with the desire that coated his golden orbs. His golden orbs that were drenched in reflections of the forest almost as if you were back between the mauve tendrils.

The sight of an atokirina floating over his shoulder made you think that maybe you were, that you had traveled there. Like Neteyam wasn’t really there in front of you, saying all of these things. This was all just a figment of your imagination and would be nothing but dust by the morning. It was real though, as real as the Great Mother herself. All evident by the pull of your stomach and the need that was brewing at the base of your stomach for the man before you.

You always wanted him, always wished to be claimed by him and no one else, and now here he was before you, begging, asking. All while Eywa approved of it herself. Your eyes flickered back over to his face, as the pressure within your stomach began to appear in the form of a throb in between your thighs.

His tongue swiped along his bottom lip and you found yourself following the movement with your eyes, wishing it could be replaced with your own. You couldn’t deny the feelings that were overtaking you, or the incessant need to confirm them with action. You loved him, of course, you did and it was something you wouldn’t be able to deny any longer.

With a quiet whisper, your eyes found his and all want to deny him seemed to melt from your body, “I can not lie to you.”

His ears perked up at your words and he found his eyes tracing the way your features had visibly softened, your own eyes reflecting all the same things his was. Desire. Need… Love. He tilted his head curiously, his bottom lip finding a place in between his teeth as the anticipation began to eat away at him.

You sighed, hand lifting from your side to press along his chest, right where his heart sat. He inhaled at the feeling as a small smile appeared across your lips, “There is no one else who has ever made me feel as you do and there never will be. It's you, Neteyam, always.”

Your eyes softened, taking in the way he smiled down at you, a low chuckle falling from his lips in relief at your words. You smiled too then as he leaned closer, hand still firmly wrapped around your jaw. You felt your breath hitch again in your throat as his stare flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

His mouth parted softly as his thumb drifted to your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clenched as he traced your upper lip and along your cupid’s bow. A breathy gasp was ripped from you as he dragged the pad of his thumb down across your bottom lip, satisfied with the way it bounced back into place.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slowly trailed down away from your face. Palm ghosting over your neck, his thumb moved from your chin down across your pulse point. He felt himself stir at the sight of your wet parted lips and the way your lashes brushed along the tops of your cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself then as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward.

His lips gently found yours and for a second you could barely register the pressure. It was so soft, delicate as if he was trying to savor the first touch. You were the first to move your lips against his and even as you did, it was tender and slow, so different from the way he was clutching onto your neck.

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself practically melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it weren’t for the stronghold he had around your back. His lips were soft, slightly parted, teasing with an underlying sense that was almost demanding.

A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, he pressed his lips harder against your own. His hand tightened around your neck then, and at the feeling of his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your head lull back slightly, mouth parting at the action.

The urgency built up just as the throbbing in between your legs had. Just as the warmth seemed to spread across your entire body like firecrackers. His tongue molded with yours and at the feeling of it engulfing yours, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his.

Your hands found a place along his shoulders, fingernails brushing against his skin with ease. With a flick of his tongue, your hands dug into his back and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. At the sound, you couldn’t help but buck your hips forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything.

Feeling you struggling to catch your breath, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back out of the kiss, releasing it with a pop. All while his eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip. He shifted on his heels as he took notice of how puffy and red they were as well as how dilated your eyes suddenly appeared. He knew then there was nothing he wanted more than to have this view for the rest of his life, to be the one who pushed you this close to the edge, to have complete and utter control over every part of your body.

Hand leaving your neck, he reached behind himself to take a hold of his queue. He reveled in the way your eyes widened slightly as he brought it around his shoulder. His other hand that still had a firm hold around your hip tightened, his thumb brushing along the string of your bottoms. You shifted under the touch, breath completely stolen from your throat. You shook your head slightly, unsure at that moment as Neteyam stared down at you, his queue offered out to you.

“I have always wanted you Y/N. Always,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your bottoms as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness he could muster, “There is no one else I would want by my side.”

Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. He already had every part of you including the aching organ in between your ribs. What else was there left to spare?

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan was asking you to be his mate and there weren’t enough reasons to stop you, not while he stared down at you like that with his hands touching you the way they were. You were putty under his touch and with your entire being aching to give him what was left of you, you grabbed your queue from your back and pulled it forward. You held your breath as you stared between them, their pink nerve endings twitching in the air.

Slowly, you watched as he extended his out further towards you and with the most docile touch connected his with yours. As they firmly wrapped around one another, you felt all air be stolen from your lungs and every sensation in your body be exemplified. Tsaheylu. Your whole body suddenly collapsed forward as your eyes widened, pupils growing in size.

Staring forward at Neteyam, you watched as his own eyes dilated and his entire body jolted forward, arms tightening around you. His forehead fell to yours and for a moment you both just stood there wrapped up in the other’s arms, soft pants echoing off the forest trees. It was like you had been awakened and all you could focus on was the erratic beat of his heart in his chest and the gasping breath of his lungs You could feel it to your very core and it only heightened every sensation and desire you had.

At the sight of his glistening lips and blown-out pupils, the ache in you intensified from the extra stimulation. He groaned slightly as your hips met his again and he couldn’t help but let his lips connect with your jaw. His head dipped, lips tracing the skin from your jaw to your neck with his tongue.

Both of his large palms gripped tightly at your hips, trying to pull you as close as he could just as his teeth poked at the surface of your skin. Finding the pulse in your neck, he bit down slightly and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the sudden sensation that went straight to your core. It was like every nerve ending had been lit on fire from Tsaheylu and you wished to never disconnect from him again.

His arms were wrapped strongly around your body and you found yourself moaning out his name as his fingers traced over your hip bones, firmly enough to hopefully leave a mark. “Neteyam…”

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took a hold of your thighs and pulled them up and around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling of your feet coming off the ground but it was replaced then by a moan at the feeling of his core meeting yours. The newly added pressure had you aching in his arms, as if he wouldn’t do something soon you would actually die.

His lips trailed up and claimed yours again and instantly as his tongue molded to yours again, he fell down to his knees, them hitting the ground harshly. His hands were still firmly gripped around your thighs as your knees slid to the grass on either side of his. Sat on top of him, you felt the feeling in your stomach tighten slightly. He was hard under you, straining against his bottoms.

“Yawne (my beloved), look at you,” he said lowly, staring up at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of need, “I think this is where you were meant to belong.”

With his hands wrapped around either one of your legs, he pushed you off of him slightly and then onto the ground. You felt your back arch slightly at the feeling of it meeting the cool grass. He crawled over you and you felt your legs tighten from around him as his body hovered over yours. With his arms on either side of your head, you were unable to stop your gawking at the sight of him looking so huge and strong on top of you. Even in the darkness, you were able to see every line and tautness of his muscles. It was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves and all you could think about was how you desperately wished for him to overpower you.

His lips found your collarbone again and then slowly as if he was taking his time, planning to use every minute of darkness you two had, they trailed down your chest. You arched into him again as his breath fanned across your breasts through the thin material of your top. With open-mouth kisses, his lips were followed by his tongue as they left a trail of wetness between your breasts all the way down your stomach. They stopped right above the line of your bottoms, right above where you ached for him most.

He glanced up at you and smirked as his hands pushed your knees apart further. You begged then, shamefully, “Neteyam, please.”

Teasingly, his hand trailed down the outside of your thigh before firmly wrapping around your knee. He lifted it up onto his shoulder and his lips found the inside of your thigh then. Your body tensed and then relaxed as he began to trace his lips up the side of your leg.

With each inch he got higher, you felt the anticipation flooding your system and you couldn’t help but twitch with impatience. A moan slipped past your lips as his tongue flattened across the inside of your thigh only a few inches from your soaked bottoms. Mouth falling away from your skin, he glanced up at you through his eyelashes and grinned smugly at the want in your eyes. With your leg still balanced across his shoulder, he reached up, his fingers curling around the string of your bottoms. His eyes never left yours as he gave them a gentle tug. They loosened around your frame.

Your hands tightened at your sides as you felt them fall away from your body and discarded off to the side. He groaned loudly as his eyes traced down your frame and before you knew it he was leaning in, mouth finding your inner thigh again. They trailed up slowly until he was face to face with your lower half, bare and aching for him.

His hand left your hip, fingers slipping in between your legs to part your split. At the feeling of his fingers, your breath hitched and then a second later you felt his mouth connect with you. His tongue found your clit in a matter of seconds and you couldn’t stop the twitch that ripped through your body at the skillful flick he sent to it. His other hand reached up to push your body back to the ground just as he flattened his tongue against the bundle of nerves.

Your head tilted back at the feeling while a whimper was ripped clean from the back of your throat. He chuckles and the sound vibrates through your entire body. His middle and ring fingers then slip in with ease and you can’t help but tense under him with the newfound stretch. He waited a moment, for your breath to even out and for the uncomfortable pull to fade. After a few seconds, he dove in like a starved man, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. A string of curse words falls from your lips like a symphony and it only fuels the man below you more.

His fingers start to move, creating their own pace dragging along your walls as the slickness only seemed to increase in between your legs. His tongue poked and prodded at every inch of skin he could find. His pace quickened and it all was starting to become too much as anywhere his fingers didn’t reach his tongue did. It moved up and down, tasting every part of you.

His name was the only thing you could find yourself saying as his fingers suddenly curled up inside of you. Your entire body jolted, heat appearing across your skin in dabs of sweat as your heart rattled away in your chest feeling like it could explode at all the pleasure being pulled from your body.

“Neteyam,” you found yourself calling out as the assault only seemed to continue, the overwhelmingness of it almost too much on your body.

He ignored you as his lips firmly sealed around your clit again, tongue going to work, as his fingers curled again. The heat rushed across your entire body straight up to your face and your hips pushed up into his hand with your back continuously arched into the air. Your heel dug into the back of his shoulder at the feeling of his tongue again. He sucked at your fluids like juice just as your thighs tightened around his shoulders. With his hand wrapped firmly around your knee, he lifts your thigh higher and your jaw drops open in shock. No sounds could be formed then as the spring in your stomach began to tighten.

You realized then what was soon to happen as it felt like he was sucking every last innocence out of your body, every last drop claiming you as his. He groaned as his pace somehow got faster. You clench your eyes shut just as his fingers hit the point deep inside of you. His grip on you was bruising as his tongue sucked and flicked and took everything you had to offer him. You were squirming at that point unable to stop the pulsing that was emitting from deep inside of you. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath.

You pleaded for him to not stop and just like he would grant you this for the rest of his life, his fingers curled into you one more time and you felt the coil deep within your stomach snap, taking the rest of your body with it. He ripped the feeling straight out of your body and pulled the loudest cry from you with it. Your voice cracked as he continued pushing his fingers up in you, tongue not moving from where they were clasped around your clit. Your leg shook from where it hung off his shoulder as your vision blurred, expelling tears from the inner corners. Body collapsing onto the ground, he waited a moment, fingers still in your body and tongue pressed to your core, before he pulled away.

Your ragged breaths filled his ears and he couldn’t help but smile as your leg slipped down from around him. He pulled his fingers from you and you winced slightly at the sudden feeling, your lower half tightening around nothing.

As your eyes fluttered open again, you stared at him as he leaned up over you on his knees. Your spent body being imprinted on his mind. Wiping at his mouth with his forearm, he licked his lips, the taste of you still coated across his tongue. At the sight of his glistening lips and narrowed eyes, the heat appeared again in seconds.

His lips sloppily collide with yours and as if he hadn’t already ripped it out of you once, you felt your chest arch into his. His tongue pressed along yours and you shivered at the way he tasted, like you. With the remnants of your actions splayed between your thighs across your skin, you felt the wetness appear again. He smiled at the feeling of your body against his and groaned as his hand drifted down in between your bodies to his own bottoms. Your nails dug desperately into his back and his hips jolted into yours in surprise. Fingers pulling at the band of his bottoms, he yanked them from his body. Your breath hitched again, the sixth time since he first had touched you as you felt his hardness brush against your core.

He hissed at the feeling and for a moment his head collapsed into your neck, almost painfully. You whispered his name and it brought his gaze back to you. He felt his entire life flash before his eyes with the sight of you below him. Irrevocably you were finally his, you were there, and you were alive. You were his.

It wasn’t another late-night fantasy where his hands had wandered in between his legs. He blinked and you were really there. You were alive and he couldn’t stop his hand from drifting up to your neck again, desperately craving the gentle flutter of your pulse. Hand gripping tightly around your throat, he watched with a furrowed gaze your reaction as his tip pressed into your entrance, prodding slowly.

Without a warning, he pushed in, bottoming out quickly. You cried out again, chest arching up into his as he hissed at the involuntary tightness around his dick. His head tilted back for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling of you squeezing so beautifully around his length, your name falling from his parted lips in praise.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open again as spews of love sputtered from his lips. His hands reached for yours at your sides and you gasped at the way he pushed them up above your head, his fingers lacing in between yours. As you squeezed around him again, he swore, deciding then to pull out and slam back into you.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhaled then as he did it again, the pleasure flooding his system, “Yeah, that’s it.”

That heat began to pool again instantly as one of his hands slipped from yours down in between your bodies. His thumb found your clit. It was still swollen from the effects of his tongue, and without a second to waste he began to build up a pace. His hips rammed into yours, harshly sending your back into the ground as your legs wrapped up around his waist.

It all was building up again and you felt your head lull to the side suddenly overstimulated. It wouldn’t take long this time as it all was flooding your system; his grunts, the pleasure, the feeling of his body wrapped around yours strongly. He groaned out as you clenched around his dick again, you already fast approaching the edge. He rammed up into you harder as his hand tightly held yours.

“It couldn’t have been anyone else, Y/N. It’s always been you. You’re meant to be my future wife, my Tsahik, my mate,” he mumbled lowly as his pace began to falter quickly, “Only you.”

You hummed then, “My Olo’eyktan.”

His eyes rolled slightly at the title, it sounding so formal across your tongue and he couldn’t help but speed up further. He sent another and then another thrust straight into you, as his thumb continued throwing circles into your bundle of nerves.

Somehow it all had led you here, the six months of training, him starting off by disliking you, the arguments, the issues. All of it led to this with you splayed beneath him, being fully claimed as his. You let the noises fall freely from your swollen lips as all the tension and the pain seemed to fade away.

Neteyam’s grunts filled your ears as his palm tightened around your throat once and then twice. The pressure had you squeezing around him, it bringing you to that point quickly. He slid in so easily and quickly as your juices coated your inner thighs. His thumb didn’t stop and before you could even realize it, that spring in your stomach was tightening and then breaking completely.

Your whole body erupted into flames as a cry fell from your lips, it was so loud and so startling. You pulsed around Neteyam as he pulled out and slammed back into you, the sudden flutter of your walls, pulling a groan out of his throat. He couldn’t hold on much longer with the constant clenching around his cock. His eyes squeezed shut then as his hand moved away from your clit to dig into the skin of your hips. It was bruising as he gave one more pump before his whole entire body stilled, tensing above you.

You exhaled suddenly at the feeling of him shooting up inside you, followed by a few more thrusts before he was pulling out completely. The lost feeling of him was surprising as the sound of his gasps filtered in through your ears. Chest meeting his, your face was flushed with color at the sudden realization.

You were mated for life.

Reaching up, you cupped his face, practically asking him to open his eyes to coat your vision in gold and specks of green. With a gentle exhale, they snapped open and met yours. An exhausted smile appeared across his lips as your thumb traced delicately along his jaw.

You were overwhelmed at that moment by it all; the fact that you were laying in your spot with the future Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya, with no promise of the days ahead. You felt everything as well as the pulse in his body from the bond of your souls.

You were one, forever and the only thing you could think to say at that moment was, “I love you too.”

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

It is the greatest rebirth ever granted to a person. A mere moment of acceptance, of acknowledgment, a promise that no matter what, you have a place among the people forever. There is a greatness that comes from it; the connection that the people have for one another, the power they emit gracefully.

The Na’vi were more than just a tiny sliver of humanity you had fallen upon. It had become your life, your existence, your sole purpose in life. Grace Augustine had once seen that in the Omatikaya, she saw them as her destiny. Then there was dream walker Jake Sully. He led the clan to victory against the sky people and now suddenly sat upon your Ikran, queue wrapped firmly within its, dread once again was felt in the air. A moment of the unknown presented to all.

Success was never guaranteed. Life was never guaranteed, but there were more important things than the need to breathe. Justice. Perseverance. Triumph.

All of that had masked over the necessity of a long life, of years to come because why promise life if there was a chance it would be dull and overtaken by enemies. Why have life if it is only filled with smoke-clouded air, and living in fear? So many had suffered at the hands of the sky people, and so many losses had been wasted at their feet. Their greediness overtook the humanity that once plagued their hearts.

It was no way to live, captive in your own world.

“Look alive, people, we got metal in the sky,” the Olo’eyktan’s voice filtered in through the transmitter strapped within your ear.

Your body stiffened, glare narrowing at the sky before you.

War was coming. Violence would soon erupt in the world of Pandora once again, after nearly two decades of peace. The Omatikaya people once again led the tide of Na’vi and Ikrans in the sky. Multiple bands of people scattered across the forest, waiting like silent death traps.

This was it.

Taking in a deep breath, you found yourself looking off to the side towards the Olo’eyktan. You looked past Jake and you felt your eyes meet his instantly. The great warrior was already staring at you. The mighty soldier’s golden eyes traced your face with the utmost determination you had ever seen. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan flew upon his Ikran, gun gripped tightly within his palms. Hair braided back out of his face laced with feathers. His face was covered in war paint, dosing his skin in bright colors. The orange and the green stripes were an imprint and you took a few seconds to take in the sole sight of the Toruk Makto’s oldest son. He had become just as he was always meant to.

He was made with gunmetal and veering sharp teeth. He was made to be mighty and strong and fearless. He was a warrior. A soldier. A hero.

He once again was giving everything to the world without a second thought. They needed him as much as they once needed Atlas or Achilles. They needed the great soon-to-be Olo’eyktan so desperately and he gave everything willingly. The world needed his strength, his courage, his blood, and his sweat. Most of all, they needed his heart.

He would give it all for his people, for his home, for you. Because he wasn’t just a mighty warrior but a ruler. A king and a king would sacrifice his entire being for the betterness of everyone else. He flew then powerfully, captivatingly, and even with all the pressures of the world on his shoulders, you knew then he would not falter. He would not collapse under the weight or break under the pressure.

He was stronger than any gunmetal or wooden arrow. He was the chosen one and more than that he was yours. He was your love, your soon-to-be Olo’eyktan, and your mate.

Neteyam’s gaze flickered across your features, skin bathed in bright paint, a glint filling your eyes. He nodded towards you and you felt your body tense unwillingly as the sound of metal blades drifted through the air. You granted him one more look, the sight of him gracing your being with one last fateful glance.

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

With the screech of your Ikran in your ears, your gold eyes snapped back to the sky before you, and speckled with the lightest green they locked upon a metal chopper in the distance, and you knew then that it was just the beginning.

author's note: this is the end... i don't know what to do with my life now but i hope all of your angsty hearts can rest now.

one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Note

KÖNIG WITH BRAT READER PLS PLS PLS

Me myself i am a BIG brat, good luck to him trying to discipline me lmao

König is a nice man, hes sweet and stuff. So i wanna see König lose his patience. I want him to be mad at me. I want him to take out his built up anger. I requested you this because i trust your writing the most.Pls feed me i love ur blog<3

König w/ a Bratty S/O

Warnings: 18+, Nothing too Explicit TBH, Bratty Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Dominant König, Spanking, Edging, Overstimulation, Restraints, Punishment, etc.

König could handle your incessant whining, your moaning and your complaining.

At most, he usually found it endearing, perhaps even adorable when he looked past the vague hostility and saw insecurity buried within, hiding, trembling.

But then you had to go for the throat – hit him where it really hurt.

You’d had the gall to suggest that he couldn’t satisfy you – that you’d go and search for someone who could, someone who “can do it with their hands tied behind their back.”

And König snapped.

You didn’t notice it at first; the shift in the atmosphere was so sudden, the snap of a harp string – a heartstring.

And you didn’t notice König rising, his shadow eclipsing your form as you faced away, arms crossed, spouting fallacies about your neighbours who you wagered were “ten times better” in bed than him.

It was only when his chest was to your back, his bulge between your thighs, that you snapped out of your beration.

The air was thick now, begging to be sliced, dissected, with something – anything – to end its own existence.

Aside from the rising volume of your battering heart and König’s restrained, bullish breathing, it was silent. A carbon monoxide death in all but feeling. This was silent, this was invisible. And it was deadly.

No-one was around to help you; that much you gathered from the lack of voices or footsteps from your neighbours, no cars passing by on the street, no chatter except for that dying in your mind.

König’s anger bulged from his very soul. And with his face hidden behind you, you could only imagine the look of thunder that rolled across it.

König clapped a large, bearish, calloused hand upon your shoulder, and squeezed. Tighter and tighter with each passing second, he became. The thought that he could break your collarbone this way crossed your mind.

Wincing, you tried to turn around, to placate König.

He growled, gripped you by both shoulders now, and kept you facing forwards, pushing you.

“Go on, Darling,” he hissed. It was not a request. “Keep going.”

You were unsure as to whether he meant to keep goading or keep walking, but you weren’t taking any chances.

König marched you to the bedroom, his wall of a body making escape an impossibility.

This was going to be a long night.

NSFW:

König’s veil stays on during punishment.

It’s his way of letting you know that your loving boyfriend is gone; no human soul exists in this vessel anymore.

Ties you to the bedposts. He’s not giving you a moment of reprieve, nor a chance to defend yourself.

Spanks you with a thick belt he keeps hidden away in the wardrobe, which he bought specifically in anticipation for your insufferable behaviour.

Makes you tell him you love him as he’s beating you.

Gives him a sense of power that he can force your love in some way, whether you love him or not (you do; but for the sake of this segment, you usually pretend you don’t. König knows you’re lying, though).

He’ll see your backside red and inflamed before he lets up, and even then it’s because he’s moving on to the next phase of your punishment.

Edges you. Constantly.

And König has the restraint to keep withdrawing whenever he feels you’re close.

He doesn’t want you feeling even a second’s worth of relief. Not after the way you spoke to him.

And, eventually, after hours of edging, he’ll finally let you finish.

But don’t be mistaken; this isn’t the end.

There’s a dark glint in his eye as you’re left panting, sweating, almost crying.

“Oh, Darling,” he says, brushing a sodden lock of hair from your forehead. Faux reassurance. “We’re not done yet.”

Overstimulation Central.

You’ll be absolutely weeping as König slams into you, your already sensitive body forced to bear the pounding shocks he sends through you, even when you plead with him to stop.

“Can’t satisfy you, can I?” König says, mockingly. “Then tell me who’s filling you right now – tell me who you belong to.”

“You, König! You, you – only you!”

Your throat will have run raw with how you scream König’s name, his body caging yours beneath it.

It’s his way of telling you you’re his.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig x reader #konig smut #konig x y/n #konig x you #konig x yn #könig x reader #könig smut #konig headcanons #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 fanfic #konig mw2 #cod konig

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hrtbreakanniversary · 2 years ago

Text

love me low | neteyam sully

Baby, I just wanna kiss you Stay until the day is done You don't even know just how much I need you Baby, I just wanna keep you

summary: y/n is in love with her best friend's brother but he's in love with her sister.

pairing: neteyam sully x f!omatikaya reader

word count: 10k

playlist: love me low - ai bendr, yes to heaven - lana del rey, umaasa- calein, xo - beyonce, cloud 9 - beach bunny, i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys, about you - the 1975, here with me - d4vd, can i - alina baraz & galimatias, moment - lildeath

warnings: aged up (neteyam and kiri are 18 whilst lo'ak and y/n are 17), misunderstanding trope!, jealously, protectiveness, talks of marriage, unhealthy family dynamic, assault, y/n is super hard on herself and cares about others more, blood, war, profanity, suggestive

She knew this was a bad idea from the get go. Despite the Olo'eyktan warnings to not wander out after dark for the sake of safety, his own son had come to her as the orange hue of the horizon seeped through the cave's openings to speak of a new area he found in the forest.

Trying to reject the younger Sully never really worked for Lo'ak was always persistent to take his best friend on whatever not so bright idea he had planned in his head.

Additionally, she would do anything to get out of her home. The constant berating from her mother and calling her every second to do something because her sister's precious hands couldn't bear to get rough from using them.

At first, nothing was wrong. Like always, she would follow the male and the human (a term she learned from Kiri because calling him an alien was far too mean), Spider, as he ran and swung through the trees before they stopped at a place she has never seen before. Vines that hung from the tree branches above. A question formed on her tongue but Lo'ak was already climbing up the trunk, his eyes set on a thick branch that stuck out high off the ground.

It was already too late to back out so she followed, having no idea what the male Na'vi was planning to do but she always knew that no matter what, he was going to shove off his skills as if he were performing for a circus. She didn't know what a circus was but she would always hear Olo'eyktan mumbling under his breath of how much of a complete circus it was whenever something didn't go to plan specifically because of his middle child.

At first, it was all fun and games. Despite the suspense, the fun he spent all night talking was about swinging on the extravagant amount of vines. Screams and laughs filled the air as the three took turns going back and forth on the long vine, the momentum allowing them to go from tree to tree.

They were having a lot of fun.

So she couldn't blame Lo'ak for how she ended up with her head being seconds away from becoming a meal for baby palulukans. While the other two tied the vines around their waist, she decided to be different and tie the rope to her ankle instead. Cheers filled the air once again as she spread her arms out to the refreshing wind. She swung back and forth at least three times. In the corner of her eye, she saw the herd coming from afar that prompted her to stiffen her posture. That would lead to her failure as gravity would take it's course, causing her to be hanging upside down.

Trying to untie the vine from her ankle took a lot of upper body strength that she was struggling to pull out at the moment. The two males atop of the tree too were struggling to pull up her up because of the many factors: how the long rope, gravity, and mind her language… fucking weak they are.

A scream, now out of fear, came out when she felt the snap of thanator jump through the air but missed by a couple of feet as she was still a bit off the ground.

Although there was only a handful of these little creatures here at the moment, she knew she was seconds away from the number of them multiplying by the seconds.

"Hey, hey! Help me up!” Y/N kept doing sit ups midair to avoid losing body parts from her heads. She could hear the bickering of the two from above and the vine budging at every attempt they had to try to pull her up. “You two have 10 fingers each. Use them, skxawngs!"

"I'd be nicer to the ones saving your life!" She didn’t know who did said that but that was the least of her worries since the vine did not shorten, it got longer. The snaps of the animals getting closer to her head. The probability of them taking off her head at 90% possibility now.

She heard their shouts of fear but a hum rang through her ears, cloudiness blurring her eyes as the blood rushed to her head.

In the moment of losing her consciousness, the herd had ran off in the other direction for who knows what reason before another blurred figure jumped into her view. They stepped down and stood in front of her, their face merely centimeters away from hers. Features familiar to the one of the fools that was still struggling to pull her back up.

It was when he sighed when she realized who it was. Neteyam.

From both trying to readjust how she looked while also trying to get her foot out of the stupid vine, she looked even more ridiculous when she fell into the field of grass below her from the vine cutting cut from above. Her legs and arms flared out in awkward positions.

Neteyam ran to her side, pushing back the hair that fell in front of her face and kept his hand on her cheek, “Are you okay?” His other hand quick to adjust her loincloth that went out of place.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Her cheeks feeling hot as she melted into his touch before her head flew to the side from him shoving her head.

“Now, what were you thinking?” Always too good to be true. She didn’t fight back when he helped her up from the ground.

Lo’ak and Spider came down from the tree, running over, “Brother, what a surprise to see you out here!” His shoulders folding back to mock Neteyam’s straight posture, “I see we all had the same idea of taking a late night walk.”

“Are you three insane? Are you asking for a death wish?”

All joking subsided, “We had it all handled. We’re just trying to have fun.”

“Have fun? Have fun?” Neteyam scoffed," This is what you call having fun? Somebody almost died." Lo'ak waved him off which only prompted the older male to continue," You both need to grow up. You're almost 18 and you're going to have to start acting like adults."

Lo'ak rolled his eyes," Then ask yourself why you followed us out here. Surely, you didn't think that Y/N was going to have a near death experience so why are you here, bro? What is that saying that the sawtute always say? FOMO? Fun out when more out?"

"It's fear of missing out." Y/N and Spider whispered to not interrupt the brothers' daily quarrel, eyeing one another in amusement.

Neteyam looked away in defeat that made Lo'ak proud," And we did have it handled. You came right when we had it." And although he said it with such confidence, his eyes diverted away because he knew he was wrong and he walked away before anyone could say anything.

"Handled, he says", Spider elbowed Y/N's side," The only thing that would be handled is there would be no horrendous singing on the way back."

She threw herself forward to jump on Spider but a hand grabbed her back, Spider sticking his tongue out at her before he caught up to Lo'ak. Her heart quickened again. Her eyes wandering from her arm to his hand, up his arm, and to his face.

"He's not wrong. How do you think I managed to find you? I followed where it seemed Eywa was covering her ears." Quick to act as if she wasn't staring at him when he looked down at her, Y/N shoved at his chest that moved up and down from laughter with her free hand with a roll of her eyes. Though he didn't budge, instead moving his hand away to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

She knew the way he touched her meant it no other way than platonic. Talks about the girls who also had eyes for him about how he is not affectionate towards others unless they are apart of his direct family. Y/N has been in this family for longer than she hasn't. Growing up with all of them had put her farther than what could be considered the friend zone but into the family zone.

She also knew that what she felt for him was different. There wasn't a time that she could pinpoint where she started to see him in a different light but it felt like she has forever. That she has loved him since forever.

As he talked to Lo'ak and Spider, her eyes had a mind of her own as she looked back up at him. Watching as the night sky illuminated his freckles.

The ride back was short but felt long. Despite Lo’ak not caring about Neteyam’s lectures, all of them dreaded Jake’s scoldings.

Y/N had to admit that he was intimidating but she knew his rough attitude was for ensuring the safety of all of them even if he tends to go a little too hard on Lo'ak. She was used to it all too. Constant lectures of how she should act and getting in trouble for the most smallest of things. At least him yelling at them was from the good of his heart.

At the moment, all she could do was simply enjoy how her arms were wrapped tightly around Neteyam's torso. Just as she was about to lay her head on his back, he angled his body so she could hear him over the wind that blew through them,"So where's my thank you for saving your life?"

Y/N squinted," Has Lo'ak misspoke? Did you have a need to fill your urge to be such a knight in shining amour?"

All the air escaped her lungs when he leaned back, "Only for you.". Arching his head back, the skin of their cheek skimming each other," I like the look on your face when I do."

"Whatever." She pushed his body back into a straight up position to hide her flusteredness. But the warm feeling had faded when she saw the rest of the family awaiting their arrivals at the entrance of High Camp.

Without a word, the four diverted their eyes away to the ground as they stepped off the ikrans. After Neteyam had helped her down, Lo'ak and him stepped in front of her to block her from the death stare their father help onto them. Of course, Spider had made his way to the front and tried to convince Olo'eyktan that it was his idea but he was quickly hushed by Kiri who was quick to pull him away with Tuk from the high tension area.

Using the boy's heights to her advantage, Y/N tiptoed to the side to try to make an escape and delay the consequences of her actions but a deep clear of Jake’s throat made her stop immediately in the steps.

"I expected better from you", Although he didn't state a name, it was clear who it was directed to. "All this time that you have to be training and finding a mate, you're instead messing around and not taking anything seriously."

"Sir." Y/N finally looked up from her feet but felt instant regret when both Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem had put their attention on her. “It was my doing. I wanted Lo’ak to show me what he’s been raving about and Neteyam only followed to make sure we were safe.”

Lo’ak shook his head, “ I actually really wanted to show Y/N and Spider this place I found so it was my idea to go out into the forest.”

Olo’eyktan sighed, “ I don’t care whose fault it is.” He pointed between the two, “ You both need to grow up. Somehow when there’s something on, it’s always you two and I’m tired of having to say the same thing over and over again especially to you.” He pointed at Lo’ak. He opened his mouth as if he had more to say but Neytiri cleared her throat and it only came out as a huff, “Don’t make me find out you’re out there after dark again. I don’t even want to look at you two right anymore, dismissed.”

It wasn't until they heard their footsteps of the couple stray far away did they look up at one another. Despite the nerves that racked their body when getting yelled at, they could help but snicker at each other's inconvenience.

"Come on, guys!" Spider waved from hut they were huddled in. It wasn't until they raced to the group did Y/N feel the sharp pain on her ankle, kneeling over next to Kiri and clasping onto the raw skin. The vine must've dug into her skin when she was struggling but she didn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it. It’d heal over time.

“What did Father go on a rant about this time? And does it even matter? He says the same thing yet Lo’ak is still going to do it.”, Kiri earned a high five from Spider on the side.

"It's so unfair. All they do is yell at me and when they look at you, they go "Y/N, Y/N, you mustn't spend such time with a delinquent.", Lo'ak mocked his father's brooding tone.

"You are a bad influence." Y/N avoided his swing through the air, making a face at him but also because the movement made her lean down against the wound.

A smirk replaced her pained look as Kiri listed out the multiple occasions in which Lo’ak did not listen to their father and how many times he was always caught.

“Y/N, are you okay?”, Tuk asked from behind, leaning up against Y/N’s back. Oh, ever the so observant. Y/N couldn’t help but affectionally rub her head but the little girl paid no attention to the cooing as she hovered over to the hand covering her ankle, lifting up Y/N’s hand, “ Oh my gosh, you’re hurt!” The girl's eyes widened, Y/N holding a finger up to her lips to shush her. Luckily, Lo’ak moved the topic from complaining about the consequences of his own actions to tease Neteyam who was quietly sitting on the window sill behind all the girls.

“Dad's all like " Neteyam, you've got to find your mate."". He teased, hoping over everyone to poke him on the arm, " Little does he know that all the girls in the village have been lining up for him and yet he doesn't care one bit."

Spider stood on the other side of Neteyam, holding his chest," Maybe he isn't into that crowd."

"Either way, we'll help you out, bro. It must be hard to juggle picking a mate while also being the best son."

"Oh shut up the both of you. And Lo'ak, you said it, not me.", He swatted at them with the cloth he had in his hand. " Besides I've already chosen."

"You've already chosen?" Kiri and Tuk gasped.

"When did you choose? How did you choose so quick?" Y/N propped hers on her knees, Tuk's body falling onto her lap.

"I guess I always knew." He shrugged," Just finding the right moment and way to tell her first. I don't want to tell my parents yet in case they make her promised to me against her will."

"Oh ~ so romantic." Lo'ak wiggled his fingers, Neteyam swatting the cloth at him again.

Y/N noticed that even though his annoying little brother was mocking him with a deep voice and making their other siblings laugh, he was staring out into the air and not even defending himself like his mind was elsewhere. She couldn't help the ache that came with the realization. He must really like this girl if he is hoping not to mess up with her.

I wish you would look at me.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he looked in her direction and she locked eyes with his. Her breath hitching as he smiled down at her instead of looking away,"What?" He mouthed.

She tilted her head and mouthed back," Who is it?"

He playfully shrugged, earning a scowl in return. Right as he was about to get up and walk over to her, Lo'ak stood in front of him with Spider. Their hands were clasped together and they looked out into the distance with starry eyes, "Oh how I love you, Neyetam." Spider spoke in a high pitched tone while Lo'ak deepened his already deep voice," Come with me as we venture into each other's bodies-"

"Lo'ak, Tuk is here." Kiri growled under her breath and rolled her eyes when she heard Tuk asking Y/N what does venturing into another person's body means. "Besides, I wouldn't make fun of him so much. He's managed to find his in a short time while who knows how long you'll take when the time comes." Kiri pointed out which Lo'ak matter of factly responded, " I don't have to worry about that. I've got Y/N. Mates for life."

"As if!" Y/N threw a pillow that Tuk handed to her to hit the male square in the face that erupted the whole hut into laugher again.

The laughter faded when a figure appeared at the opening that caused everyone to stop what they were doing.

Y/N followed their eyes and she felt as a needle had poked her balloon that was her mood, deflating it.

"Jeez, you guys are acting as if I'm a monster." Her older sister, Eyota, stood up. Her braids falling behind her back like waves when she brushed it back. Y/N knew the quietness wasn't because that they didn't like Eyota. It was farther than that. Everyone adored Eyota like how they adored Y/N. Though it was different. While they wanted to be her friend, they wanted to be Eyota's other. She knew Lo'ak's sayings were a joke because the boy has talked about how pretty her older sister is to her face and not that she cared for Lo'ak's opinion, he has never called her pretty and instead resorted to comparing her to a fish he caught the other day.

“Hi Yam." Eyota’s words slurred, making Kiri and Y/N side eye one another.

"Did she really nickname him after a vegetable?" Kiri whispered.

"Hello, Eyota." Neteyam leaned back into his previous position, cropping his leg up onto the frame.

"Hey, Eyota." Lo'ak leaned up against a pillar, attempting to cross his leg over the other but it only resulted it in him losing balance.

"What do you need?" Y/N asked, Eyota looking away from the older Sully brother and pointed with her head towards their own hut," Mother's calling for you."

"You're an embarrassment."

Y/N watched as her mother placed scoops of Teylu on Eyota's leaf, chewing on the outside of the salty seed.

"The Olo'eyktan." Her mother seethed," The Toruk Makto."

Reaching over to grab a handful of teylu from the middle of the table, her mother slapped it away.

"In front of the whole village, he addressed you." She grabbed away the leaf in Y/N's hand before she could retract it away," And you still sit here with no shame as you eat away all of your father's earnings."

"My love, it's okay-"

"It's not okay. She thinks she can run around with that demon and drag along the Sully boys into her troubles. Then doesn't even bother to come home after the Olo'eyktan scolds her." Her face scrunched up into one of frustration, disgust dripping from her tongue," It's because you spoil her that she's turned out like this."

The table remained silent, the sound of the crunching and chewing echoing in the air before her mother asked Eyota how she was doing on finding a mate.

She hated how gushy they sounded and how Eyota is praised for the bare minimum. Call it jealously. Call it envy. Y/N didn't care, she simply wanted to be treated with respect for once.

"I've had a lot of suitors but there's one that I'm planning to take a step further with."

"Whose the lucky boy?", Father butted in.

"Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan."

"Ah the Sully boy?" Mother clapped. Father's eyes widening as he spoke with his mouth full," The future Olo'eyktan?

For the first time the whole night, Mother turned to Y/N and spoke in a civil and sweet tone," Would you help your sister? Your friendship with the children will benefit her greatly."

Hate was a strong word, Y/N loved her older sister unconditionally. Y/N would never feel that way for Eyota but it was hard not to resent the older girl when she was never defending her from their mother and was now planning to court someone that Y/N has always loved.

Unable to breathe, Y/N abruptly stood from the table and sat in the corner with her back towards her family.

"Not even excusing herself from dinner and not answering a simple question. What an ignorant child." Each word poking more and more into the facade she was trying to keep up that she didn't care anymore. Opening a book that was found during one of the raids, the crummy pages of words and pictures serving as an escape for her as her mother continued to ask Eyota about what her plans were.

She didn't know when she fell asleep but the book was laid out flat on her lap and the hut was now quiet as everyone else had tucked themselves away for the night.

The ache in the back of her neck reminding her of the position she slept in. Noticing that everything from tonight's dinner was still left out, she mentally noted to herself to clean up after stretching. Careful to not step on anything or anyone, she pushed past the drapes. Once the night air hit against her skin, her body convulsed into stretches, raising her arms above her head.

A rustle made her crotch her arms down into defense mode and turn to where the noise came from.

There Neteyam stood with a bowl of an unknown substance and the same cloth he was holding a few hours ago.

"Teyam, you scared me." She set her arms down and crossed them over each other to warm herself from the cold. "What are you doing out here so late?"

He held up the materials in his hand and looked down at her ankle that she had completely forgotten about. But now that it was mentioned again, she started to feel the pain searing up her leg. "Oh this thing? It'll heal."

"When? After it gets infected? Go ahead and sit down." He jumped down so he was on a lower level, Y/N sitting down on the wooden ledge. Her body betraying her again as her heart began to race from his touch. However, it was replaced when the cold ointment met with the gash. Hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as she hissed in pain.

"Drama queen." He nudged," You know it's kind of crazy you came out right as I was coming."

"I have a sense of when idiocy comes around."

"It must go so crazy when you look at yourself."

He caught her ankle when she moved it out to try to kick him. She kicked again in efforts to get out of his grip but gave up after a while, allowing him to finish cleaning and put Mo'at’s medicine on.

A comfortable silence blanketing over them with the exception of some hisses from pain. An unknown amount of time had passed before the cloth was wrapped around her ankle, Neteyam’s thumb running along the closing to ensure that it was secure before he began to massage the area.

“Did you like the book?”

“It was good. A bit hard to get through because there’s a lot more words than there are pictures but I like it a lot more than the other ones you brought back.”

“Wasn’t my favorite ending.”

"Really? I liked it."

"Is that right?" He took the spot besides her, sitting close enough that their thighs touched, her heart beating once again beating harder than it should be, "Care to explain?"

"I mean sure, I wished the couple should've stayed with each other till the end. But it was extremely realistic that they didn't. Sometimes happy endings are meant to be."

"I beg to disagree."

"Oh, is that right?" She mocked his previous tone," Would you care to explain?"

Neteyam scooted closer than they were before, leaning his arm behind her," I believe that even if the world is against two lovers being together, there's always one path that brings them to a happy ending."

Is there a way for them to be together? Even if her parents were going to be against it because her sister had verbally stated her want for him first. Even if she was considered to be family by his and isn't mostly likely not seen as anything more by him? Will she have the happy ending he speaks of if she were to voice her feelings to him?

"Teyam, who are you planning to court?" She held her hand up in defense," If you don't mind me asking."

"I'd like to keep it as a surprise." He nudged her side," In fact I think you'd like her. You'd probably know her the best out of everyone."

"Interesting. Is she cute?"

"So cute."

"Even cuter than me?"

He cupped her cheeks with both of his hands and squished them together, making her lips pucker out," Now who could ever be as cute as you?"

Scrunching her nose in an attempt to shake off the jittery feeling. It didn't help that when she looked at him all she was was flowers and a bright light that illuminated around him. She didn't know it was her pure imagination or Eywa was working to create a show for him.

He then lowered his tone and slid his hands down onto her shoulders, "Now that we're on this subject somewhat. What does your sister think of me?"

And it was as if someone reached in and squeezed her heart. The tightness in her chest overwhelming every sense in her body. Why did it have to be her? Why does it always have to be her?

The signs were so clear in front of her. The special nickname she had for him and how quick she was to choose him. The fact that she knew her sister the best out of everyone and how he would get quiet like Lo'ak would in case he would say something embarrassing that would ruin her perception of him. Neteyam too cared about Eyota's opinion.

When she hoped he was talking about her, he was talking about her.

It’s been a week since that night. Her father had stepped out and interrupted the conversation so she didn't have to go on a spiel of how Eyota liked him as well because that would have honestly taken away all of her digniity. Managing to escape the question, she bid Neteyam a good night without looking back and had a sleepless night.

Neteyam's bullshit interpretation of the book was not about her and him clearly. The two main characters are Eyota and him. For she was only a side character to their love story.

If the question wasn't obvious enough to fix her narrative, when returning back with the buckets of water that her mother had requested, Neteyam stood with Eyota in front of their hut with flowers in his hand. Talks that she's heard when she spends time with other girls in the clan about how flowers tend to be the first part of the courting phase.

Now she wasn’t going a downhill spiral where she was going to let herself fall claws of depression. No, she couldn't sit around and mope about it. If the two wanted each other, she couldn't stop because in the end like Neteyam said, if two lovers are meant to be together, they are mean't to be.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t pain her to have to talk to him, knowing that he does not return the same feelings to her and having to watch him court her sister.

At first, it was as simple as trying to be as touchy as before. Refusing to ride on his ikran together or walking with Kiri and Tuk when she ventured out into the forest. But all failed the day they went out for a swim and Neteyam had beat Lo'ak to offering her hand back onto the solid grand, his arm wrapped around her to spare some of his warmth on the way back home.

For the past two weeks, she’s been walking out of any area he walks in before he approaches her after a specific amount to not make it obvious. Thought it’s been enough times so for it to be. She’s been declining Lo’ak offers to go out into the forest because she knew in the end that Neteyam would be there. She only went when she knew Neteyam would be going with his father on another raid.

It was dumb but she had to do it to protect her heart.

There had been a time when she came close to ending whatever she was doing but when she walked towards the Sully’s hut, Eyota’s hand was running up and down Neyetam’s arm and he wasn’t budging to move it, leaning against the hut as they engaged in conversation. That pinch in her chest reminding her of why she needed to take this time to heal.

She did occasionally make her rounds around the Sully's hut but not as often as she used to, finding things to occupy her time.

She was able to avoid interacting with Neteyam easily that didn't garner much questions from anybody except for maybe Lo'ak who was used to the girl dropping everything to be able to spend time with them.

Neytiri had offered to her to come over to learn how to make this dish that Y/N had previously stated a loving for. As the two sat crouched over several cut up ingredients, Neteyam had walked in to grab a cover for Tuk which was an excuse to come in and invite Y/N to chat outside. Unintentionally, Y/N made eye contact with him. His hand coming up to wave at her but Y/N turned away and asked Neytiri what kind of plant she held. A frown formed on the boy, bundling up the cover in his hands. He stood for a good second to see if Y/N would look back up but he walked out in defeat when she didn't.

Unknowingly to them both, Neytiri had saw it all and looked over at Jake, widening her eyes as if she was questioning the interaction but he could only shrug.

The morning after, Y/N decided it was time for her to learn how to make baskets as the ones her family has were starting to wear out from use. Though it sucked when her fingers were quite cooperating, "No, 'evenge, you must go under and then over." Mo'at grabbed the straw basket out of her hands and fixed the uneven pattern that Y/N had created.

"Sorry, Mo'at." She beamed at the older woman who only humphed. Propping herself onto her knees to watch her do correctly, she hadn't noticed the two other beings surrounding them.

It wasn't until the air in Spider's mask exposed the two did Y/N looked over in annoyance," Can I help you?"

"Want to go hunting?"

"I'm busy."

"Please." Lo'ak clasped his hands together.

"No." Mo'at handed the basket back to her with the correct pattern and tightened one.

"Pretty please."

“Kiri is going." Spider included but it didn't help much since Y/N shook her head again.

"Well that's one too many for you to bother now."

She successfully folded in a one and proudly held it up for Mo’at to look at who only shook her head and fixed it again.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“I’m too lazy.”

Lo’ak groaned and began to go on a whole rant about how even if he says that he’s tired, he still has to go. He shut up after Mo’at sent him a stare. It didn’t stop his pleas for her to go, Spider joining in. Though they sounded like whiney babies, it was all white noise to her as she tried again to weave the same pattern but instead failed.

Mo’at grumbled and snatched the basket away from her, “ Go. You are not helping and these two are hurting my ears.” She shooed them away with a wave of her hands and didn’t stop until they were out of sight.

“Cmon, Y/N.” Both of their arms wrapped around her shoulder with Spider falting off her a bit because of his shorter height, Lo’ak joked,“You’d never be a lady if you tried.”.

Just as he said that, she saw Neteyam and Eyota together besides an ikran, the comment striking harder than she usually let it. Huffing out a deep breath, she crossed her arms together with a frown as they made their way to their own ikrans.

The large group gathered around their instructor. Much to some people’s annoyance, specifically the ones with the same last name as the teacher, their instructor today is Jake.

The group gets divided into two with one in the ground and the other in the sky to cover as much area as they can. It's done with a team leader picking out who they want in their groups but with Jake, he tended to put his family with him and several others in his group and then the remaining in the other. He knew he could trust the others to do their job but with all of his family sans Tuk participating, he'd rather keep a close eye.

"As last time, we'll be-"

Y/N rose her hand, bowing to apologize for suddenly interrupting," May I be excused from the sky team today and stay on the ground today? I'm not feeling all that well.". The reality was that she rode with Neteyam last time and she was feeling sick at the thought of being in such close proximity to him. She couldn't be feeling those butterflies when he was going to be betrothed to her sister.

Kiri was surprised, nudging her on the side. "There's no way you're leaving me with those losers."

"That's fine, Y/N. Make sure to stay close to the group in case something goes wrong."

With a close lipped smile, she stepped back and Jake continued to state his plan, most of the group's attention and ears on him except Lo'ak and Spider that were groaning and whining to Y/N on switching teams which ended with Kiri telling them to shut up and leave her alone even though she mumbled under her breath that it'd be no fun with only boys. Y/N giggled out a "sorry" that didn't at all sound sincere, missing Neteyam's hard stare on her.

“Has Y/N been acting strange at all to you?”, Spider asked.

“Yeah, kind of.” Lo’ak twirled a stick in his hand, “Like she stills spends time with us but she also doesn’t. I don’t know… she’s been kind of distant.”

Kiri scoffed out a laugh, “Maybe she found out she can do better than hang out with you all day.”

“You know the "you" includes you as well, right?”

“Did you forget that Y/N and I are girls which means we have a different connection which means … we talk amongst ourselves… especially about you all."

While the two boys pestered Kiri about what kind of gossip the girls do, Neteyam took front and moved large branches and leaves out of the way for an easier walkway. Though on the outside, it seemed that he could care less about the topic at hand and was simply alert on his surroundings. His mind was else where like it's been for the the past month, no, for the past two years.

His thought were interrupted when he heard a familiar giggle come from below. Rushing to the source, he leaned over the ledge and saw Y/N. Not alone though but with another boy, Zakum, that he always found a bother because of immature he is and now he was 10 times annoying when Neyetam saw how his hands were placed on her waist and the other on her arm as to position her to aim the arrow towards the stream.

The others had joined him and watched as the arrow was wasted into the water, missing the fish. Y/N pouted back at Zakum, Zakum patting her head affectionally before they both returned back into the prior position to try again.

“Isn’t Y/N a perfect shot?” Spider frowned.

Neteyam nodded. He knew because he was the one who taught her. He was the one who had his arms around her to get a perfect stance and the one who taught her the secrets of having perfect aim.

“See what I mean? There's something wrong because if she can easily get her target, why did she miss?” As if lightbulb had switched on above his head, “Oooh.”

They then all collectively placed it together with Lo’ak and Kiri ooo’d teasingly in spite of their friend knowing how to flirt but stopped when they looked towards Neteyam, his face stoic and his jaw clenched.

The voice of their father caught their attentions through the throat microphone that they were getting off track, the regrouping for the flyers occurring a while ago.

“Let’s go.” Neteyam threw himself up from the ground and refused to look at anyone, roughly pushing away anything in his way.

After a successful hunt, all the members of the clan gathered around to celebrate the winnings of the day. The meat of the strumbeest and fish grilling over the fire, families happily with one another as they fed each other. Some engaging in some indecent behaviors that involved kava and its disastrous effects.

Y/N held onto Tuk's hands as the little girl guided her around the dance line. Now instead of following the traditional dance, Tuk was making her own moves and moving her feet in a different way that made Y/N trip over her own feet when she attempted to follow her.

Tuk groaned out of frustration," Y/N, you've got to get yourself together before you fall on me."

"Come on, Tuk Tuk, slow down then! You're a much better dancer than I am."

She stuck her tongue out," I know that." She proudly grinned. She dragged Y/N around the fire to follow the others in the dance line. Even though Tuk did take the dancing quite seriously, the child would never miss out on the chance to be lifted up in the air. Y/N twirling her around in the air before the both of them got dizzy.

Stumbling to an empty spot, they both fell back onto the soft cushion of the ground. Tuk rolled over to lay on her side, her head laying on Y/N's arm.

"Y/N, I'm glad that Neteyam chose-"

A small shadow that stood over them, Tuk quickly sitting up and regaining her composure. Y/N lifted her head to find a little boy holding his hand out for Tuk to take. The blue of Tuk's ears fading into a light blue. Tuk's hand reached out for the boys but quickly retracted it when she realized that Y/N was besides her. Her eyes looking over for permission.

"Go ahead. I'm all worn out."

Tuk didn't think twice before running off with the boy.

Damn, even Tuk was having a better love life than her. She scoffed to herself. Maybe she can wallow in her self pity now. As she was in the process of laying back down, something caught her off guard that made her sit right back into position.

Eyota's legs over another person, her lips close to his ears to whisper unspeakable things. And that other person was someone that surely was not Neteyam.

Fury burned within her. She didn't think twice about her actions and if anyone was going to stare at her, the trail to her older sister almost leaving behind smoke if she had faster than she did. "What the hell are you doing?"

Eyota widened her eyes and immediately stood up, the male besides her obviously intoxicated by the way he missed her arm when he reached out to pull her back down.

"What is that language? Is that what you learn when you-"

"Shut up." Eyota and Y/N both equally stunned but Y/N continued on," Why are you being touchy with another boy? Aren't you close to having a secure mate? Like Neteyam."

"Ughh." Eyota's scowl returned, "I never confirmed that I wanted him. The whole point of finding a mate is to explore and why would I stay put with one?"

"You told Mother that Neteyam was the one you wanted to take a step further with. Isn't it working out, why are you-"

"Y/N, can I not interested in another people too? Sure, he's cute and a good warrior but I'm young, let me have fun. And when have you ever been so interested in my life? Is it because yours is so disappointing?"

Y/N brushed away the last comments, "Neteyam is my friend, you shouldn't treat him like he's some kind of toy." Y/N felt her body shaking from such anger.

"Ach! Then you can have your friend! All he does is talk about you anyways. It's insufferable."

He talked about her? Y/N's face softening at the thought, unaware that Eyota was staring at her little sister weirdly, stepping back to sit back to sit with the drunk Na'Vi.

A hum ringing through her ears as if time stopped, eyes trailing around the crowds before her eyes landed on him. His gear still on from today but paint decorated his face. He talked amongst his friends, his hands motioning a ikran flying through the air. As if he could feel her stare on him, he momently looked up and then back up, interlocking his eyes with hers. The sound of her heartbeat thumped in her ears when he didn't break it.

"Y/N!" Zakum appeared from thin air, his arms wrapping around her. A tug to pull her in the direction of everyone else. "Dance."

"No, I'm okay." Looking back in the direction Neyetam previously stood, he was no longer there.

"Cmon! It's tradition. It is the way. Dance!"

"Zakum, I am quite busy." Trying to squeeze her body out of his grip but he only kept a tighter hold.

"For a quick second, I promise and then you can go on as you please."

"Go with the boy, Y/N!" Eyota claimed, tossing her head back to take another large gulp of kava.

Seeing as there was no way out of this, she stopped struggling and let him lead her to the large crowd, his hands on her hips so tightly that she could move in the other direction if she wanted to. As everyone stood in a line, Zakum faced her and mirrored the others in line.

Typically Y/N is able to keep up but her mind wandered else where, unable to concentrate. The sound of everyone's voices and the hot air of the fire being all too much for her at the moment. All she wanted to do at the moment was talk to Neteyam about what Eyota said last.

Zakum's hot breath radiated down her neck, his skin clammy against hers. His hands running from where their hands were linked to his hips. Lower and lower he went until-

"Don't touch me like that." She pushed him away, a face full of disgust clear on her face. A stunned look on Zakum's face as he tumbled back. Taking this as an opportunity to walk and finding a breath of fresh air in an empty space away from everyone, she felt herself being pulled back around to him by her arm. Both of his hands now holding a tight grip on her.

"Where's the Y/N from earlier today? The one who was practically begging me to touch her."

The Y/N earlier only acted in that way to prove Lo'ak and Spider wrong that indeed she could be seen as a woman even though it was down in a way that didn't make her feel comfortable whatsoever. When she heard the group that hide behind the bushes rushing away, she moved out of Zakum's touch immediately. Apparently Zakum didn't get a hint that she wasn't interested when she was extremely annoyed by his flirtatious ways before and after the act.

"Get off of me."

"Come on, you wanted me earlier. Change of heart?"

A pain felt in her wrists when his grip on her grew tighter and tighter each time she budged. He used his tall height as a advantage to push her back until she felt the stabs of scratchy bark of the tree.

"You think you have better options? I'm the best you have. I can prove it to you right here. Nobody's around."

Disgust ran through her veins and clung to her skin, bile rising up her throat. Frustration causing tears to brim at the corners of her eyes. Though, she didn't stop her fight against him. Spreading her firsts to push with her palms at his chest. "Leave me alone, you perv."

"Stop fighting." He gritted through his teeth, pushing both of her arms against her chest. The pressure making it hard for her to move and breathe.

Y/N shut her eyes tight. Wishing constantly in her head that he'd magically go away and hoping that a good idea would appear into her head.

Silence.

His sweaty palms being replaced by a familiar warm embrace, the beaded bracelet pressing against her skin confirming exactly who it was. Her vision blurry at first when her eyes fluttered open, leaning into Kiri's arm.

She saw silhouettes of the two men in front of her, one pushing back the other.

"Neteyam, leave him. Let's get Y/N home."

Though he didn’t listen. Everything happened so quick but in the moment, it felt as if it was in slo-mo.

The way Neteyam threw his arm back to land a punch square in the middle of Zakum's face, the blood trickling down from his nose. Zakum threw himself toward’s Neteyam’s torso to push him on the floor but Neteyam held his place, placing another hit to his face. Zakum returned the hit with one to Neteyam's side that fell weak against Neyetam's move to knee Zakum's stomach. The blow making him fall to the ground, Neteyam hovering over him. How he kept going back in, his knuckles landing each time on the other boy's face.

The two were split up suddenly by a taller male. "Stand down.", Jake's strong voice ringing through the air, his body sandwiched between the two to hold his son back from the other. Neither of them had even seen him approach the commotion, Lo'ak clearly out of breath from trying to get his father in time before the fight escalated any further.

Neteyam didn't care though. A spine chilling look in his eyes. An emotion none of them had seen before. Sure, she's seen him annoyed and upset but this was rage. A look clear and evident that he wasn't done with Zakum.

"Can't even fight his own fights without Daddy stepping in." Zakum spat, Neteyam stepped forward with his fist up but Jake blocked him.

"You best shut your mouth before you find yourself in more trouble than you already are." Jake glared at Zakum before turning back to the others in the area. "Kiri, take your brother..." His eyes softening at the sight of the blue skin of Y/N's wrist turning a light purple. As if he was starting to get a clear understanding of what had occurred not more than five or so minutes ago," and Y/N to get their injuries checked."

Not wasting a second to avoid Jake's scolding of another member of the clan, they were quick to walk away from the scene. The last thing Y/N had saw when she looked back was Zakum's parents standing, their forehead creased from their frowns and the sound of yelling being loud for them to hear from where they were.

No words were exchanged. She knew purely from the way her mother was refusing to look at her that she had messed up tonight.

Her father helping her apply the medicine Mo'at had given to her before she was pulled away by her family to their own hut. She did want to stay with them to assure that everything was okay especially since she was the one that was at fault and caused this commotion to happen.

"Did he..." Her father's eyes watering, his body completely shutting down and refusing to even finish the sentence. Y/N placed her hands over his and shook her head. Cries racked through his body as he with his forehead pressed down to her hands.

Towards the side of the room, her sister was sound asleep underneath a blanket, the smell of the liquor she drank radiating off of her. Their mother hovered over her, a hand reaching out to smooth out the older daughter's hair.

Oddly, Y/N didn't feel the green envy that she typically felt when she saw her mother caring more for her sister. Despite what had happened to her, her mother still repelled any sense of worry to her and only cared for the simply drunk sibling. So it wasn't worth feeling.

Maybe it didn't matter what she did. It didn't matter how much she cared for her family. It didn't matter that she sacrificed her heart for her sister in hopes that her mother would be proud of accomplishing such a task. Nothing worked.

Maybe if she realized this long before, she wouldn't have gone through this effort to distance herself from Neteyam and potentially ruined the friendship they had.

The chance to talk to him seemed to pass her every time. After having breakfast with her family and taking care of the aftermath of what the kava had done to her sister who woke up with a shooting headache and had projected vomited everywhere, she was stopped by Zakum who was accompanied by his father to apologize for how he acted last night.

Quick to forgive with her mind only focusing on what Eyota had told her last night about how all Neteyam had done was talk about her. She had made to their hut but she was a few minutes off as both Lo'ak and Neteyam had gone with the war party. She used that time to apologize for the events that occurred last night but Neytiri was quick to tell the girl that it wasn't her fault while Kiri reproached her for even considering that she was.

It wasn't until later that that day when night had fallen did the opening of her family's hut swished open, the youngest Sully standing in the opening. All four pairs of eyes startled and all watched as Tuk ran over to Y/N to pull at her arm, her chest heaving up and down from what seem like she had ran here.

"Tuk Tuk, what's wrong?"

"You have to come." Urgency dripping off from her tongue," It's important." She didn't look at anyone else in the room except for Y/N, her small hands barely wrapped around the circumference of her arm. Tears streaming down her face, using all of her weight to try to pull Y/N up.

"Tuk, wait. What's wrong? You have to calm down and explain to me what is going on."

"The sky people attacked." Her words jumbled as snot and tears ran down into her mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with Neteyam. Norm took him and I didn't even see him. He was bleeding so much, Y/N."

Not only Y/N but everyone in that hut stood and ran with the child to where people were returning back. It wasn't an exaggeration to say this was the worst they have seen so far. Usually people would return with as much as a scratch but the skin of several people that were being lifted past her were almost close to falling off. Bubbles littered several other people's skin, Mo'at handing off medicine to others to be able to care for as much of the injured as she can. Several people huddled together as cries were heard among the chaos hinting that there were losses this time or they had gone missing.

Her eyes surfed the crowd to find Lo'ak and his father stood towards the opening. From their posture and the veins that popped out from Jake's throat, he was yelling at Lo'ak. That she would question later but she could get a sense that Lo'ak may have been partly to blame for what had happened today.

A breath of relief to see them both standing, she was quick on her feet and followed Tuk to them. Colliding her body to Lo'ak's, not caring if he wasn't finished getting berated. Lo'ak's returning the embrace as he wrapped his arms around her torso quickly. Hearing him whispering reassurances that he was okay, she remembered that one person was missing and circumstances Tuk had told her.

"Lo'ak, how's Neteyam?" An obvious strain in her voice as she thought of the worst.

Lo'ak's heavy sigh and the look in Jake's eyes making her heart drop to her stomach, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as tears immediately came streaming out.

"Y/N!", Kiri called for her just as her knees were about to give out from underneath her. Neytiri trailing behind as they ran over to Y/N. "He's refusing help." Neytiri spoke through dry heaves. "Norm was able to take the bullet out but he's not letting anyone touch him to clean his wounds or look at any other. There's still a lot of blood."

"He's asking for Y/N." Kiri pointed. "He keeps saying he wants her and chanting her name like she's going to appear."

So he is alive. Resisting the urge to hit Lo'ak in the stomach for scaring her but she figured he knew as much as she did about what was going on.

She quickly wiped her ears as Neytiri walked over to her and placed a hand onto her shoulder. Plead in her eyes,"Y/N, sweetie. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but I beg you to forgive him or forgive yourself."

Y/N immediately agreed, finding no strength to say no to Neytiri who bowed her head as a thank you. The two guided her the box that was full of pods for avatars, all the metals in the room shining in her eyes. Kiri handed her a mask to help her get better control of her breathing from the toxins from the air inside. Her feet feeling cold against the floors and her body full of nerves as she inched towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

Silently she entered the room with medicine that Kiri claimed would sting less compared to what Mo'at was giving everyone else, the boy hunched over with his body facing the wall. She could tell he knew he was in the room by the way his ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. A white bandage was wrapped around his upper torso but the rest of his body still full of open wounds.

She walked around and stood in front of him, eyeing the large blood spot where the bullet had entered. Cautiously she brought her hand up and placed it carefully on the gauze. Feeling his stare on the side of her face, she refused to look up in fear of how her calm facade would drop and instead moved her hand down to the much gnarly scratches that littered the open skin.

With still no words spoken between them, she set aside the bowl and instead grabbed a discarded towel that she believed was being used to clean his cuts before he became troublesome and everyone had given up.

Right as she was placed the towel onto a bloody wound, Neteyam hissed in pain. She tried to go slower and dab it instead of rubbing but he continued to groan. verbally letting out grunts of "ows.".

Deciding there was no way to ease the pain, she continued to clean off the blood less carefully and pressed down on one that was still leaking out.

His hand shot up to grab at her arm, making her finally look up at him to see that he was crying.

"Wow, I didn't know you were such a baby."

He obviously didn't find that funny as he blinked away the water that gathered at the linings of his eyes, his eyes rolling when he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"You try getting blown up and shot at and not cry."

"I'd rather not."

Usually they'd laugh but the tension that filled the room stunted their chance to, only resorting back to the static silence. Y/N looked back down at the seeping wound and began to dab at it again.

"You know you're all I could think about."

She stopped. Only for a moment before she continued to clean the cut as if she didn't hear him. Not because she wanted to avoid confrontation but she refused to believe what he said was real.

"When I felt the bullet go through me, all I could think about was you. Wondering what the hell I did to make you to so upset that you couldn't even have talked to me. And I got so scared because I thought I was going to die out there without finding out what I did wrong and how you refuse to even look at me in the eye" He grabbed at her arm again but this time by her wrist and pulled it away from she was doing, her attention as well. Goosebumps running up her arm when he inched her closer to him, peering down at her even though he was seated," Especially when you have always told me to be honest about my feelings so why is that when I am, you're upset with me? Remember thinking, is what I did so bad? If I had known you would've acted this, I wouldn't have done so."

"That’s not the point, Teyam. You say that now but you would’ve resented and I couldn’t bear have you be upset with me.” Y/N pushed his arms away from her, cautious to not be too rough. "Teyam, I just needed time to get over it."

"All you had to do with me was be honest with me. Because I wouldn't have cared. I could never risk not having you in my life."

He wouldn't have cared. It felt as if everything had shifted two steps back when they were moving one step forward.

"Then what’s the point?” She threw the towel to the side. The fury ran strong through her veins, not expecting him to be this cold about how she felt for her. “ You’re such a fucking asshole.”

"Excuse me?"

"You wouldn't have cared? Well guess what, Neteyam, people have feelings and while you couldn't care, I'd still have to sit there with my feelings for you and watch you be all lovey dovey with my own sister. And I know my worth and I'm not going to sit there and act like I’m happy for you two and watch you try to make her yours."

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion," Wait what? Your sister? What does Eyota have to do with this?"

"Gosh if I had known how bad you are with girls, I would've have gone for Lo'ak. But of course I'm one of the many fools that has to be in love with you" She scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "First of all, skxawng, if you like Eyota, why would you talk about me so much? That's why she's moved on from you so fast. "

A offended look on his face appeared on his face,"I'm bad with girls? I'm far from being bad with girls. If anything, I've tried every- Wait... you're in love with me?" A smirk replacing the grimace on his face.

"Yeah. Not that'd you care or anything." She huffed," I swear, Neteyam, get that look off your face before I smack you because you're really hurting my feelings."

"Oh I'm hurting your feelings? Y/N, I've been waiting for a response from you for what seems like forever. I was wondering when you would flat out reject me."

Now it was her turn to be confused," But I saw you giving her flowers. And you asked that night before what she thought of you."

"I was giving her flowers for you. Fucks sake, they even were your favorite ones. Your mother was there as well. And I asked her what she thought of me because I was going to be courting her sister so I had to make that she saw me in a good light. And before you get confused, you. I wanted her approval so that I could pursue you."

Though the picture was perfectly drawn for her and the tie of the knot becoming unraveling and untangled, she couldn't believe it. Not when her whole life, Eyota was always first choice. She couldn't accept this reality because it simply couldn't be true, " No." She shook her head. "No, there's no way you could be choosing me. Because everyone likes Eyota more. I'm the friend and you're confused but we all know that-"

"I do not want Eyota."

"You say that because she decided she didn't want you. Because you messed up your chance with her.”

A soft pair of lips cut off her rambling, Neteyam's arm wrapping around her to place his hand on the small of her back to push her closer. His other hands brushing against her cheek. Their bodies pressed against one another like two puzzles pieces fitted together.

It took needing a breath out of their masks to break them apart, her lips parted in shock.

“What does that tell you?”

“Nobody ever sees me-"

They buzzed when he leaned back in and pressed a swift peck on her lips, using his thumb to press down on the middle of her bottom lip.

“Do you get it now?”

“Maybe just one more.”

Neteyam exhaled out a laugh, standing up and picking up Y/N by the waist with no struggle. Except a grunt of pain when she hit his shoulder and warned him of his injury. He sat her down onto the edge on the bed and leaned down again to connect their lips together for a quick second, "Oel ngati kameie, Y/N. Always and only you."

She could feel her cheeks getting hot, getting embarrassed when she knew that her face had to be all purple. Everything was so overwhelming, her mind forcing her to look at other parts of the room. What deemed as impossible of happening was happening.

He brought her back when a thumb softly pushed her chin back down, forcing her to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes so full of love and a plea that hoped that she returned his feeling and it was in that moment that she knew he was being sincere. That what he was saying was true to his heart.

"Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam."

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

a/n: omg thank you so much for reading this. i kind of struggled to finish bc idk i dont like how i've been writing cuz repetivity and also writers block. but my love for neteyam pulled thru hehehe. hope you liked it and plzzz give me criticism bc i shall learn from it!

#neteyam #neteyam imagine #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #neteyam series #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam scenario #neteyam imagines #avatar x y/n

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