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[eiwasuli]

“Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.” Part 6

pairings: neteyam x reader

warnings: cute, fluff, bad writing

key: skxawng - moron, yawne - darling, my love, oyeä tsamsiyu - my warrior, tiyawn - love, sevin - pretty (for females)

summary: Neteyam, after finding out Y/n, tries to romantically tell her he feels the same, but things aren’t going as planned…

He couldn’t believe it.

There was no way it was true.

Y/n, the prettiest, kindest, fiercest woman in the village, had told him she liked him.

The teenage boy couldn’t get the thought out of his head, even when he had arrived home.

As he sat with his family while they ate, he kept repeating the same thought over and over again.

She likes me too.

“Neteyam, why are you so quite,” his father asked.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head.

“It is nothing at all sir, do not worry.”

Before Jake could answer, his mate interrupted him.

“Did you ask her yet,” Neytiri asked impatiently.

“Not yet, but-“

Before Neteyam could finish, the whole family groaned in frustration.

“You skxawng,” his mother yelled.

“Your in for it now,” Toruk Makto muttered unhelpfully.

“You are going to lose her if you do not act now,” his mother warned.

As Neteyam tried to get a word in, he was yet again interrupted, this time by his brother.

“Your so lame bro, just ask her out already.”

“You know it’s not that easy,” Kiri said, defending Neteyam.

“Well, yeah, but he’s been saying he’ll do it but never does,” Lo’ak waves his arm dramatically towards Neteyam.

“C’mon Neteyam, she’s super nice to me! And she plays with me ‘dolls,’” Tuk hopped in.

As their voices yelled at him over one another, he finally slammed his hands down and stood up.

“Enough already, please, she already said she feels for me as I do for her.”

This sentence seemed to shut everyone up.

Their eyes wide, shocked, looked from Neteyam, to each other, and back at Neteyam.

“So you are to be mated,” Neytiri asked quietly, still in shock.

“Not, exactly..”

“What do you mean,” Jake asked, genuinely confused, as was the rest of the Sully’s.

“She said she feels for me, but left before I could say anything. But I want to romance her tomorrow, and finally ask her.”

The family stayed quiet for a moment and looked at each otber.

Finally, after a long pause, Neytiri spoke up.

“We will help you.”

Neteyam tried to protest, but she put her hand up, not willing to here against it.

“You have said many times before you would, and you failed, so now we will help you so you will succeed this time.”

And just like that, Neteyam had his whole families help.

After coming up with a plan, the perfect one, they went off to sleep.

Before he nodded off, he had one last thought.

Tomorrow, yawne. Tomorrow you will be mine.

While Neteyam had went home, Y/n happily skipped back to the village.

She had done it.

She dug up her confidence, and had confessed the boy whom she loved for her whole life.

A smirk of confidence shone proudly on her face, exited beyond belief for tomorrow.

As she went to sleep, she too had one last thought.

Tomorrow, sayrip. Tomorrow you will be mine.

The next morning, Neteyam woke up early for his plan. His family went to set up the places they were to visit, and Neteyam got the flowers Rini had told him to get.

When everything was in place, Neteyam searched for Y/n.

If he was perfectly being honest with himself, he was nervous.

No, he was worried beyond relief.

He knew that she felt the same, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Well, he thought, it does a bit.

He finally spotted her, admiring the art of her friends.

Y/n always did like art, he thought to himself with a faint smile.

“Y/n,” he called out in a clear voice, with faux confidence.

Turning around, Y/n’s heart faltered.

Yes, she did have confidence yesterday, but even with confidence, nerves creep in.

“‘Teyam, hello,” she said with a soft smile.

As she turned away from the art, she took a good look at Neteyam and gasped when she saw his hands.

His ears twitched in delight, seeing her eyes trailing down to find the flowers he had gotten for her.

“For you, tiyawn.”

Y/n blushed at the pet name, and accepted the flowers.

They were Lilode.

Her favorite.

She looked at him with loving eyes, and smiled in appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said with adoration.

His ears pinned back to his head, craving for more attention.

More looks of adoration.

More of her.

“Of course, you deserve the world, sevin.”

Smiling a gracious smile, she smelled the flowers, breathing out happily.

“Leave the flowers in your tent, then we can go,” Neteyam said, tail slightly thumping.

Noticing his tail, Y/n curiously asked, “Where to?”

Smirking, Neteyam answered, “You will see.”

Huffing at the mysterious answer, she rushed to her tent, put her flowers to water, and came out.

“Let us go,” Y/n whined impatiently.

Chuckling, Neteyam nodding, taking her to their first stop.

When they had arrived, Y/n looked around curiously.

“Why are we here,” the girl asked confused, not knowing where exactly they were.

“Look,” was all he said, turning her chin to see what he saw.

It was a family of Thanators.

Her favorite creatures.

The teenage girl stared in awe at the family, while the boy stared, a loving gaze directed at her.

Finally taking her eyes off the animals, she turned to him with a smile.

“They are beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he countered.

The girl snorted and responded with an, “as if.”

Before they could argue about whom was prettier, something had spooked the creatures, causing them to run towards the pair, enticing shocked eyes.

The frightened creatures came crashing into the two, causing them to get touched up with scratches and bruises.

When the animals had passed, Neteyam hurriedly check on Y/n.

“Are you ok,” he asked with deep concern.

Rubbing her head, she nodded slightly.

“Erm, I think so,” she answered uncomfortably.

Sighing, he helped her up and kept holding her hand.

I can still do this, he thought to himself.

“Well, let’s keep going,” Neteyam said.

“Oh? There’s more,” Y/n asked, intrested.

Nodding, he pulled her hand and brought her to the next place.

“Oh, where you learned to hunt!”

You admired the pond, and Neteyam continued with his next step of his plan.

“You know, I’m a pretty good hunter.”

“I always land my shot, and I usually get the biggest meal for my family,” he boasted.

Lo’ak had told him it was a good idea to brag, so he tried it.

He heard a silent huff from the girl, and he notified she seemed a bit…annoyed?

“So,” Y/n broke the pause, clearing her throat.

“Should we be heading home.”

Neteyam’s eyes went to hers and furiously shook his head.

“No, no. One more thing. Please.”

The girl hesitantly nodded, not wanting to hear more bragging, though it was definitely odd behavior for him.

As he went to the last place, he glanced at her, seeing the awe in her eyes when they made it.

It was a beautiful field, filled with an assortment of flowers.

Colors from red to purple, shapes from circles to hearts, flowers from daisies to willows.

It was the most beautiful place Y/n had ever seen.

Smiling, she turned to Neteyam.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said.

Neteyam happily started, “It can be our secret place.”

Before she answered, other Na’vi people were walking around.

Our secret spot my ass, the girl thought.

As she huffed, she looked up at Neteyam.

Neteyam started spluttering, trying to explain himself, but Y/n was to tired of him and started walking away.

“W-wait, Y/n,” Neteyam tried to reason.

The girl just ignored and walked on.

When they made it to the brink of the village, Neteyam finally pulled her arm to make her stop.

“Y/n, please, just hear me out,” Neteyam begun before Y/n interrupted.

“Hear what out? Today was terrible. You acted so- so… not you!”

“I know, I know, but I-“

“But you what? Are sorry? Don’t be, because I just want to go home,” she huffed out.

Neteyam, finally losing his composure, yells out in frustration, pulling his braids.

“I just wanted to romantically ask you to be my munxta, but of course I fuck it up! I can never do anything right can I,” he stressed out, releasing all the frustration and all the feelings he had for her, come out into light.

Y/n stared softly at her, mouth open a bit as he continued to rant.

Finally coming to her senses, she grabbed a hold of his hands, and forced him to stop pulling his hair and rant made him look at her.

“Ma Neteyam… I told you I liked you, heck I love you, and you want to try and be someone different? I don’t want you to boast or brag to ‘impress me.’ I don’t want you to try to find some secret spot. I don’t want you to try and be someone you are not. Neteyam, I just want you.”

When the girl finished, she saw Neteyam staring down at her with love, as she looked up with the same loom.

“You.. you want me,” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I do.”

“Even if-“

“No! No one else,” Y/n raised her voice.

Tearing up, Neteyam pulled the girl into his embrace, finally glad that all feelings were out.

All the stress of someone else getting here.

All the frustration on how to confess.

All of it didn’t matter anymore, because he loved her, and she loved him.

“I see you, ma Y/n.”

Shocked, she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, though they were not tears of sadness.

“Oel ngati kameie, I see you ma ‘Teyam.”

As they stared at each other with live, both started to lean in.

When his breath was fanning over her mouth, he paused.

“May I kiss you?”

Damn, consent is, and will always be, hot, you thought.

Before he could kiss her, she asked him the same question.

“May I, kiss you, ma ‘Teyam?”

That’s the hottest thing she’s ever said, Neteyam thought.

As they leaned in, they both shared one thought.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him/her.

And as they kissed, they knew that they would do anything to make it a reality.

———————————————————————

A/N: Sorry it’s super long, I just thought it was finally time to help the poor kids lol. Also, CONSENT IS VERY HOT, FROM MAN AND/OR WOMAN, ITS A FACT. There is more parts, don’t worry, I have so much ideas!! The family meddling was one of my favorite parts of this lmao.

Thanks for the support, comment if you want to be tagged for the next part or the tag list for the series!

tagged: @kikookii, @dioraaaaaaa, @mashiromochi, @sloppierjewel, @ipoopedmypants47, @adaiasafira, @mommyneytiri, @eskamybeloved, @hannibals-favourite-meal, @debsworld23, @cawi00, @he110hon, @dani111, @minkyungseokie, @erenjaegerwifee, @shadydreamlanddetectice

[eiwasuli]

the arrangement (mini series) - chapter 4: reconciliation

pairing: neteyam sully x omaticaya reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: SMUT! (p in v), light cursing, fluff, probs misspellings (ill revise later, im tired ya'll lol)

other installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

author's note: I just wanted to thank everyone for the reblogs, likes, and overall engagement with my first series. I apologize for the long wait for the final installment but I hope you all enjoyed it. It's definitely a basic ending but enemies deserve happy endings too. Much gratitude.

taglist: @bakugouswaif @erenjaegerwifee @rav3nh3aven @aysha4life @marriedtolike18fictionalmen

“Y/n wait,” Neteyam says, firmly grabbing your arm. 

“For what? So, I can watch another girl climb all over you?”

Neteyam sighs sharply, putting both his hands on your shoulders. “Stop, and just listen. What you just saw was nothing, she approached me while I was waiting for you.” 

You roll your eyes, “What do you want Neteyam? You’re the one that asked me to meet you.” 

“Yes, I did because I wanted to explain what happened last week. What Korra said about Nalu and I isn’t true. In fact, every rumor you’ve heard about me, and another girl isn’t true at all. I haven’t been with anyone, ever.” Neteyam could help but divert his eyes, embarrassed by admitting his lack of experience. 

You open your mouth to respond but couldn’t find words to say. You had been wrong all along, not allowing Neteyam to bring clarity to the situation. You felt guilty and foolish, thinking about how you could’ve moved passed the situation and spent the last several days being excited and discussing your ceremony. 

“I’ve been waiting for you, and I wish you would have allowed me to explain it all. Korra has always made it clear she likes me, but I only think and care about you.” 

“So, you waited? To mate with me?” You ask, making your jealousy of imagining him with other girls known. 

Neteyam nods, bringing you close. “You’ll be my first and my last.” 

You shake your head, looking down at the ground. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you, Neteyam. This whole time we could have-. “ Neteyam interrupts you, shushing you. He brushes your freshly braided hair to the side, brushing his fingertips across your cheek.  “It’s okay,” Neteyam’s voice coming out as a whisper. 

Your arms wrap around Neteyam’s torso, bringing your fronts closer. You feel relief, knowing Korra only targeted you to make Neteyam her own, that there is no truth to what she, Nalu, or any of the other Na’vi girls have said. 

You feel a course of excitement surge through your body, the close proximity being close to Neteyam again thrilling you. You let the emotions get the best of you and you crashed your lips into Neteyam’s. His response was quick, picking you up swiftly. You wrap your legs around him, pushing your mouth into his, his tongue maneuvers its way into your mouth.

You both stand in the village, and it was totally possible that others could see you and Neteyam. Neteyam walks you into the edge of the forest that was only a few yards away. 

Your lips move with Neteyam’s in synch, urges you had never felt before gathering in your stomach and between your thighs. Neteyam was in between earth and heaven, the feeling of you against him exhilarating him. Your legs part, allowing him to Neteyam to rest and stay close to you, gave him unholy ideas. Your hips buck up, meeting Neteyam’s, and you feel his bulge growing by the second. Your skin tingles, satisfied by Neteyam’s reaction to your touch, your body. 

You were so deeply lost in Neteyam to noticed people approaching the edge of the forest where you and Neteyam made out. 

“Lo’ak, do you think it’s a smart idea for Neteyam and y/n to be seen making out, in the forest, before their ceremony tomorrow?” Kiri says, standing off to the side with her arms crossed. 

You gasp, surprised by your friend spotting you. Lo’ak shakes his head, “Bro, I never want to see you in this position ever again.” 

Kiri wrinkles her nose, “Neither do I. Come on, y/n, you need to get rest before tomorrow. Neteyam, you need to pull yourself together before you go home, mom and dad are waiting for you.” 

You stand up robotically, thoroughly embarrassed. Kiri and Lo’ak walk ahead of you, allowing one last moment of privacy before tomorrow. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Neteyam whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek. 

You smile, squeezing his hand that was placed in yours. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.” 

As you walk home, Kiri escorts you home. Lo’ak parting to walk home with Neteyam. “I see you two have made up.” 

You laugh, nodding. “We did indeed, it was just a giant misunderstanding. But I’m so nervous for tomorrow.” 

Kiri squeezes your shoulder, “As you should be. It’s the biggest day of your life. You’re getting mated for life and being announced as the future leader of the clan.” 

You sigh, approaching you home. “Thanks for the reminder.” 

Kiri laughs now, “I’m just saying y/n, it’s okay to be nervous. But don’t worry, it’s all going to be perfect. I’ll be there, your parents will be there. We’re all here to show our love and support for you and Neteyam.” 

You pause at the bottom of your steps that lead to your home. You turn to your friend, opening your arms to hug her. Kiri accepts your embrace, offering you encouragement. “I’m excited to have you become a part of my family, sister.” 

You smile, stepping back. “I am most honored to become part of your family, Kiri.” Kiri ushers you inside where you find your mother whirling around your living room. Kiri stands behind you taking in the sight as well. 

Your mother holds your ceremony attire, the pearls, and bright stones drip down from the dress, and the outfit glitters in the light. “There you are, y/n.” Your mother exclaims. “Get in here, we have finishing touches to do.” 

Behind you, Kiri touches your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kiri says with a small smile. She slinks off into the dark, most likely heading towards her own house. 

Your mother lightly grasps your forearm, having you stand in front of her. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

You shrug, heat starting to crawl up your neck. You know she’s referring to what’s will happen after the ceremony. “Mom,” you say, averting your gaze from hers. “We don’t have to have that talk.” 

Your mother raises her eyebrows, lifting her arms up in defense. “If you say so, I was just going to offer you an answer to any of your questions.” 

You shake your head at the thought but before you could respond, your mother changes the topic. 

“Now,” she says, stepping back to look at you. “Let’s do some finishing touches.” 

For the next hour your mom primps you. To distract you, you imagine what tomorrow will be like. When Neytiri had come over, your mother and she had discussed the itinerary for the day of the ceremony so you had a good idea of how it would all play out. 

First, the ceremony will occur, Jake, Neytiri, your mother, your father, and Moat will stand on the alter with you and Neteyam, requesting your vow to promise to protect and lead the Omatikaya people. Then there will be a clan meal except you and Neteyam will break away for your own personal ceremony. That part brings chills up your arms and spine. 

Finally, your mom taps your shoulder, your eyes flickering open. “You keep dozing off, you can go to bed now. Just make sure to put your hair up so you don’t mess it up while you sleep.” You nod, groggy with sleep. Before you got far away, your mom wrapped you in a hug. “If you’re nervous, don’t be.” She kisses the top of your head and then gives you a soft nudge into your room. 

--- --- --- 

Before you can even comprehend, you’re in your ceremony dress; Neytiri and your mother pulling your hair into a style, your dress being tapered to your torso as you stand back in the living room. Your stomach is in a knot, knowing that a grand ceremony and big responsibilities await outside. You bite your lip thinking about it. 

“You look beautiful,” Neytiri says, standing in front of you. Her big, gold-flecked eyes observe your face, taking in your emotions. “You’re nervous. Don’t be, we’ll all be up there with you.” 

You hum softly, slightly comforted with that fact. It’s not just you on the stage, yours and Neteyam’s family will stand on the platform with you. “I know, but still,” You say. Neytiri shakes her head, waving her hand. 

Behind her, your mom tugs at her dress and you can’t help but smile at her excitement. While her pressure on you has been annoying when you were growing up, you, too, would most likely react the same way if you were in her position. 

Your living room door opens a crack and Jake sticks his head in. “Ready ladies?” Jake says, eyeing you. “Y/n, you look great.” You smile in response, bowing your head towards Jake. 

Neytiri and your mom stand beside you, their arms looping into yours. “Are you ready?” your mom whispers to you. You look down at the floor, taking in what’s about to happen. You think about how you and Neteyam’s relationship has evolved over the past few weeks. It gives you hope for the future and what awaits for both of you. 

Jake disappears behind the door and it’s you, your mom, and your soon-to-be mother-in-law alone. Together, you all venture out the door and towards the center of the village. Every step you take feels like you’re floating, and you feel confidence and excitement growing within you. 

After a short walk, you approach your ceremony, the clan looking back to see you. Ahead, your father, Jake, Neteyam and Moat stand. Even from far away you can see Neteyam’s smiling at you. Neteyam’s breath is almost taken completely away, his mind in awe of how beautiful you look. 

Neytiri and your mother hold you at your arms, and you’re thankful for that. You feel your knees get weak approaching the platform, but the mothers are there to support you the entire way. Neteyam looks beautiful as he stands in Omatikaya traditional clothing. 

You take the steps to the platform one-by-one, and you are now in front of the whole clan, your friends, your future family, your enemies, and Neteyam. You face Neteyam, taking his hands that are outstretched to you. 

The ceremony begins. 

The ceremony lasts close to an hour, prayer and song laced within the statements made by your family and Neteyam’s. Each family member must make commitments to support you and Neteyam’s time in leadership. Finally, the attention turns towards you and Neteyam. 

“Neteyam and Y/n,” Jake says to you and his son. “Do you promise to work together, physically and in spirit, to protect the Omatikaya people and their land.” 

You nod, looking from Jake to the clan that is splayed out in front of you. All the faces you recognize, and you feel complete honor to lead such a peaceful yet fierce clan. You are flashed back to when you were just a young na’vi, dangling on some of their hands and legs, and now you stand in front of them as their future leader. “Yes, I do.” Neteyam follows too, knowing he would do anything for the clan he loves. 

Jake smiles looking at you and Neteyam. Despite your previous rivalry, Jake knew that you would come around to each other and would protect the clan until you passed the torch to your own children. Neytiri, too, gazed at her son and you in amazement, hoping you can lead the clan in peace and never deal with the tragedies her parents and now her and Jake have endured.  

“I’m pleased to make it official that Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and y/n as the future leaders of the Omatikaya clan and Neytiri and I’s replacement if anything should happen to us. I believe, wholeheartedly, that they will lead the clan with love and commitment, under Eywa, until the pass.” Jake says, and immediately the clan begins to cheer.  

Your parents rejoice as well, providing happy smiles towards you and your new mate. Neteyam pulls you close to him, his face hidden from the audience by your long braids. He plants a kiss on the nape of your neck, his scent filling your nose. Your knees get weak again, the thought of what’s to come making your stomach twist with anticipation. But first is the clan meal. 

You are seated, next to Neteyam, at the head of the table. Your parents sit on your side of the table, Jake and Neytiri on Neteyam’s side. The table is long, making a place for every clan member. An incredible amount of food is place on the length of the table, ensuring that everyone’s stomach will be filled. You make a note in your head to thank the na’vi that spent so much time preparing the food. 

Food is place in front of you, but you can’t get yourself to eat; you’re too nervous. Neteyam can tell, and he places a hand on your inner thigh, out of sight of anyone’s gaze. Neteyam leans closer to you, offering a comforting presence. “Can you believe it?” Neteyam whispers 

You shake your head, leaning towards Neteyam. “I can’t; we’ve known about this day since we could talk yet it seems to have happened so fast.” Neteyam smiles at you, brush your braids behind your shoulder. “You look beautiful.” He says, his eyes gazing down your body. You blush under his gaze. 

You pick on your food, trying to intake some food, but you feel too nervous to even function. Clan members whisk by, congratulating you and your mate. You try to be present, thanking them for their kind compliments, yet your mind is stuck on what’s to come. 

You heart thumps against your chest when Jake leans towards Neteyam. Jake touches Neteyam’s arm, gaining his son’s attention. “I think it’s a good time to sneak away so you can… you know.” Jake says, shifting his eyes towards you. You try to pretend not to hear, and act as if you are taken aback when Neteyam leans towards you. You don’t want to come off as too nervous. “Are you ready?” Neteyam asks. 

You swallow, trying to take a deep breath. You nod and take Neteyam’s hand when he stands up. Thankfully, the rest of the clan is too busy celebrating and in conversation with each other to notice you and Neteyam sneak away. 

The Tree of Voices is not a far walk from the center of the village, only a few hundred feet away. Your feet seem to carry you to the location, your hand getting sweaty with Neteyam’s. The tree ignites brightly against the darkening sky, and it take your breath away. You’ve been here a million times, yet it looks completely new to you. You and Neteyam stand at the center of the tree, and you face each other. 

“Are you nervous?” Neteyam asks, brining you closer to him. 

You shake your head and Neteyam cocks his head to the side. “Are you sure?” You sigh heavily, pressure leaving your chest. “I’m really nervous.”

Neteyam laughs, snaking his arms around your waist and clasping behind your back. His face dips down, his lips hovering yours. “Don’t be,” Neteyam says, his lips inching closer. “I’ll take good care of you.” With that, his lips crash into yours. 

Your eyes flutter shut, your hands grasping his strong biceps. They muscles feel bigger under your touch and you wonder how hard he’s been working out lately. Swiftly, Neteyam navigates your body to the soft ground, making sure to place you down gently.  Your lips move in synch, your tongues flicking against each other. Again, you feel a pit growing inside of you and you begin to feel hungry for Neteyam. You sigh softly against his lips, the anticipation beginning to eat away at you. 

You spread your legs apart, allowing Neteyam to rest between them. He fits perfectly as he arranges himself comfortably on top of you. His hands and fingers trail down your torse, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. Your fingers lace into his hair, bringing his mouth deeper onto yours. Neteyam pulls back, only to move to kiss the skin along your neck, collarbone, and stomach. You begin to fold, feeling his kisses get closer to your core. 

Neteyam lets his kisses trail downwards until he meets the band of your embellished loincloth. Neteyam sits up, leaning on his knees. He hooks his fingers into the band of your loincloth, beginning to pull them down your thighs. You swallow hard again, knowing your core is now exposed to Neteyam. 

Beneath him, Neteyam gazes at you with love and lust. The way Neteyam feels about you amazes him; he never thought he would feel such a way for anymore. You are the most beautiful Na’vi Neteyam has ever seen. How did he ever despise you? 

Once your loincloth is off, Neteyam tosses it to the side, repositioning himself over you. He begins to take his loincloth off, but you beat him to it, your fingers jitter with lust. You lean up, helping Neteyam slip the piece of clothing off. Neteyam’s cock bounces up to meet you and you try to nonchalantly take a peek. Your jaw clenches at the sight and you are impressed by his length.

You lean back, letting Neteyam hover over you. Again, he brushes your hair out of your face, a small gesture of comfort. “Tell me if you want to stop.” Neteyam whispers. You offer him a smile knowing how gentle and kind he’s trying to be. 

Neteyam connects your mouth with his again and you spread your legs further apart for easy access. With a swift movement, Neteyam lines himself up with you and pushes himself into you. You gasp, your body adjusting to his size. Pain enters you but after a several strokes, the pain subsides into pure pleasure. You grasp Neteyam’s biceps, the pleasure overwhelming. Neteyam goes slow, taking in every moment he spends with you under the Tree of Souls. The pleasure is overwhelming for Neteyam, yet he tries his best to focus only on you. 

Neteyam separates his mouth from yours, hovering near your ear. His soft moans echo through your ears and you’re glad he is enjoying himself as much as you are. “You feel so good,” Neteyam says, a soft moan interlaced as he strokes into you. 

You feel like your lost in the feeling, never wanting for it to end. You feel present and connected with your mate, but you know the end is near. A build up in your core is about to burst and every stroke Neteyam gives you brings you closer and closer. Neteyam, too, is close, yet he tried to preserve himself anyway he can as he’s not ready to be finished with you. ‘Although,’ he thinks to himself, ‘this is only our ceremony night; there’s many more opportunities to come in the future.’

Your legs clench around Neteyam, as a strong sensation of pleasure courses through you. At the same time, Neteyam leans into you, his face buried into your neck. “Fuck,” he whispers into your neck. Neteyam finishes into you, allowing his last stroke to stay deep inside of you. Your back arches, your chest brushing his, and then you slump down. Your limbs are intertwined, as your roll into one being. Neteyam holds you against him, his fingers running through your hair. He places a kiss against your temple, his scent washing over you once again. 

“We’re officially a mated pair,” you say in awe. “Future leaders of the clan.” 

Neteyam hums, letting your head rest against his chest. “You’re the only person I’d want to be mated to or lead the clan with.” 

You take his comment in, thankful to have had the luck of not only being the leader of the Omatikaya clan but to also lead it with Neteyam. You felt lucky that you were forced to learn about Neteyam in a different capacity and learn that he isn’t what you thought he was. But a funny thought enters your mind. “Can you believe we were enemies before? Now looks at us.” 

--- --- --- 

epilogue

Since the ceremony and your time spent under the Tree of Souls, you and Neteyam have been enjoying your time as a mated pair. The first several years you enjoyed being young, taking advantage of having your own home together. You cooked for each other, sometimes doing it together. You stayed up late, lying in bed in the dark and whispering to each other as if the room was full of people. You told each other secrets, made up stories, or talked about your future until the sun began to peek up behind the horizon. 

You also enjoyed flying on your ikran together, and Neteyam would take you for flights when you felt like getting away from the village. He’d bring you to your secret spot, taking late night or early morning swims in the river where you and he had first spent time together. Every moment with Neteyam you loved and wished would never end. 

The clan loved you together, confident that you will successfully lead them one day. You appreciated your role as the future Tsahik and you enjoyed tending to the clan with Moat and Neytiri. You also loved spending time with the Sully’s, combining your family and the Sully’s together for big family meals. Life was good to you and Neteyam. 

A few years into your mateship with Neteyam, you decided it was time to have children. It had been fun finding time to be intimate with Neteyam; being future leaders of the clan kept you busy sometimes. Countless nights you stayed up with Neteyam, working with love and passion to bring life into this world. 

It wasn’t long until you brought your first child into the world, a son, that looked so much like Neteyam. A year later, you and Neteyam brought a daughter into the world. You were in awe of the family you and Neteyam had created together, as it felt like it was just a short time ago that you were children yourself, Neteyam tugging on your tail or playing pranks on you. Before you, Neteyam grew into a man, and you couldn’t wait to see him as the Olo’eyktan one day. For now, he was an amazing mate and father, and you can’t wait to see what the future continues to hold for your family. 

[eiwasuli]

AVATAR DISCORD SERVER

hi! it’s me again, and i am here to update about my new discord server for AVATAR writer & reader only, please feel free to join!

link to my discord server

[eiwasuli]

avatar discord! (updated with discord server link)

hello to all avatar writer and reader community!! so i was planning on to create a avatar discord only for writer and reader!! i’ll update the link soon but if you wanna join, please reblog this post so other writer and reader can join too!

if anyone can help me build a discord its would be great. thank you!!

here is the brand new link for y’all if you wanna join, i’m really sorry about the late update!

discord server link

[eiwasuli]

can we get an updated discord link 😩

i’m so sorry but i think i lost the last link discord group so i just create a brand new one

link here

[eiwasuli]

Master List:

Series:

A Drop in the Ocean

Part one :

Part two :

Part three:

Part four:

Part five:

Part six:

Part seven:

Part eight:

Part nine:

Part ten:

The Mazer Runner :

Newt :

Coming soon

[eiwasuli]

Avatar Masterlist

JC Avatar Universe fanfiction - constantly updating (*- longer fics)

I write for Neteyam, Tsu'tey, Ao'nung, open to writing for Lo'ak, Jake

Neteyam:

*All For You - Neteyam x Ta’unui ! reader / enemies to lovers! - pt. 1 | pt. 2

when Quaritch attacks the Ta’unui water clan, Y/N flees to the Metkayina clan for safety. She develops feelings for Neteyam but the tensions grow when Y/N finds out that Neteyam is the son of Jake Sully - the man she hates.

*Be Mine - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader / fake dating!

the one, where neteyam pretends to court the reader to avoid all of the nagging from his parents and a group of admirers. of course, it doesn’t take long for her to fall for him too

Human Stuff - Neteyam x Human ! reader (afab) / period cramps  

the one, where a confused na’vi teenager tries to comfort his human friend while she’s on her period

Your lips, my lips, apocalypse - Neteyam x Omatikaya ! reader

when y/n hangs out with the women at the lab and decides to put on lipstick to feel pretty, her friends start to make fun of her. but not neteyam, he thinks she looks cute

*And I cried when you first said, "Oel ngati kameie" - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader / forbidden love!

despite her father’s wariness of the sully’s and their ‘demon-blood,’ y/n can’t help but feel drawn to neteyam. as the two of them bond over their similar experiences of parental pressure, he finds himself falling in love with her

*Second Chances - Neteyam x Omatikaya ! reader / love triangle!

y/n and lo'ak were destined to be together, or so she thought... after moving to awa'atlu with the sully's, lo'ak starts to fall for a certain metkayina girl, leaving y/n completely heartbroken. it is unexpected when neteyam, who has been secretly harboring feelings for her, decides to tend to her wounds. can y/n reciprocate his love?

Nerves Talking - Neteyam x Crybaby ! reader / misscommunication

after spending months teaching his little sister’s friend how to hunt, neteyam is surprised by the lack of her progress. later on, he discovers then that she is just too nervous to be around him because of her not-so-small crush

Tunutu (Crush) - Neteyam x Omatikaya ! reader / childhood friends to lovers

although neteyam had never reciprocated her feelings, choosing him was always an easy decision for y/n, one of those she could make in a heartbeat. so when another man tries to win her affections, neteyam suddenly becomes aware of what he has been missing out on

*Chosen by Eywa - Neteyam x Omatikaya ! reader / series (complete)

eywa makes no mistakes... in the midst of his preparation to become the future olo'eyktan, neteyam is told to be with a chosen mate. guided by the signs of eywa, tsahik picks y/n, a woman orphaned by the war, whose heart already belongs to another. y/n's whole world begins to crumble, as she is forced into the loveless bond. will neteyam and y/n be able to overcome the odds and find their true happiness?

Tsu'tey:

Child of Our Own - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya ! reader

seeing his friends already awaiting their firstborns, tsu'tey begins to yearn for a baby of his own, but he is too shy to tell you about it

Unrequited Love - Tsu’tey x Omatikaya ! reader / smut

you had been in love with tsu'tey for as long as you could remember. so when you see his heart break again at the loss of another mate, you offer him comfort, expecting nothing in return

Unrequited - Tsu’tey x Omatikaya ! reader / series (complete)

based on Unrequited Love: y/n had been in love with tsu'tey since they were kids, watching him get his heart broken over and over, until he became hardened. on one particular night, she offers him intimacy with no expectations in return, which sparks up a complex relationship between them. they grapple with guilt, unrequited love, and newfound intimacy, as y/n and tsu'tey navigate the depths of their feelings for each other

Captain Save a Hoe - Tsu'tey x Avatar ! reader

grumpy tsu’tey having to take care of a clumsy avatar!reader, and eventually warming up to her

Let Me Hear My Child - Tsu'tey x Pregnant ! reader / headcanons

tsu'tey's reaction to finding out his mate is pregnant

You'll be a great dad - Tsu'tey x Pregnant ! reader / Tsu'tey x Jake

tsu'tey is overwhelmed with anxiety and fear upon hearing the news of his mate's pregnancy and becoming a father, but like a good friend, jake is there to calm him down

Can't wait to meet you - Tsu'tey x Pregnant ! reader

pregnant!reader having to reassure tsu'tey that he will be a great father, despite his fears

Just Married - Tsu'tey x Female ! mate

when you stepped into the public eye for the first time after your mating, tsu'tey couldn't contain the overflowing affection he held for you. but because you felt insecure about the way you were being perceived by the clan, tsu'tey decided to prove you otherwise

Ao'nung:

Heaven in Hiding - Ao'nung x Metkayina ! reader / secret dating!

ao'nung and you have been hiding your relationship for some time now but there comes a moment when you want more than that

Thinking out loud about avatar (my opinions/analyses/theories):

sully kids watching jake's old diary logs

neteyam taking the move to awa'atlu the best out of the sully's

jake cringing at "my husband was toruk makto" bc of his own insecurities

jake and quaritch making up

-- let me know, if you want to be added to my taglist ♡ 

[eiwasuli]

Chosen by Eywa - A Team of Two - Chapter 6 - Finale

← chapter 5

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers, slow burn

wc: 6.2k

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

a/n: ngl it was funny to disappear for three months and randomly drop the finale like this. to be quite honest, whoever has been closely following my blog, knows that i took a break due to some personal matters as well as bc of guilt of making avatar-related content. in anyway, this series has been a journey, i really put so much into this, thinking about this story has been a consistent thing for the past months. i really don't expect this to get the same hype it did when i published the first part bc it's been soo long and people might have forgotten about it completely but i would still appreciate it if you read it and leave a comment. enjoy!

They were nice about it, welcoming as if she was already a part of the family, but Y/N still couldn’t push away the nagging feeling of intruding into their space. She was used to being on her own, sleeping, eating, living by herself. There was no shared meal before going to sleep, no conversation to lull her into her dreams, yet at Sully's home the well-forgotten routine that Y/N’s been doing with her parents before their death, was practiced like a prayer. 

Neteyam’s warm gaze encouraged her to accept yet another sweet gesture from his little sister. Eager to bond, Tuk offered Y/N her hammock, next to Kiri’s. The other siblings only snickered at the unfortunate unfolding of events, and Neteyam too, tried suppressing an amusing smile that was so ready to give away the humor he found in the whole situation. 

She was so nervous about it too, and suddenly, Neteyam felt his chest swell with something unbearably big and overwhelming. I love you, he thought, watching the way she complied with his family’s wish to take care of her, the way she mumbled a “good night” to everyone before laying down in an unfamiliar hammock. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N’s eyes fluttered softly, the light spilled into the room with a brightness she wasn’t adjusted to yet. The hammock underneath her was different, uncomfortable, and she grumbled, shifting her position, only to be met with restriction. The further she pushed against it, the more she realized that the resistance wasn’t from the hammock itself. With a puzzled frown, she turned around and when her eyes settled onto a chest, that’s what snapped her fully awake. The sight of Neteyam, snoring peacefully next to her, brought back the memory of the last night with a flush of embarrassment. 

How did she end up in his hammock? In the stillness of the night, her thoughts restless, Y/N watched how everyone seemed to have fallen asleep a long time ago. She tried peeking out of her hammock to catch a glimpse of Neteyam but it was too far and too dark to see him. Quietly, without giving it a second thought, she slipped out of her hammock and carefully stepped around others to approach Neteyam’s. His face was bathed in the moonlight with a soft glow, and as if she was in the dream and had all the time in the world, she stared at him for a moment, to make sure he was still there, safe and sound. Maybe because she loved him too.

It caught her off guard when he opened his eyes with a knowing smile, already having felt her eyes on him. She didn’t move for a moment, but the unspoken connection seemed to grow deeper in the darkness. Without a word, he opened up his arms, and Y/N didn’t take long to consider his silent offer. She dived into his hammock and snuggled close to him, and the way he held her, made her feel the safest she had ever felt. Ever since her parents died, since Kaye was no longer there, Neteyam grounded her like the gravity. As if he understood her too, like the vision from his Dream Hunt, everything just clicked, and nothing felt more natural than having her in his arms. 

They fell asleep so quickly that, in the morning, as Y/N recalled the events of the night, she almost assumed it was only a drem. Her heart dropped as she traced the patterns of his chest all the way up to his face, finding his peaceful expression, mouth slightly open as he snored with such sweet noises coming out of it. She smiled to herself at the sight and then heard a faint rustling joined by soft giggles. Y/N’s head quickly snapped into the direction and the revelation nearly made her die at the spot from the embarrassment. 

In an attempt to be quiet, Tuk and Lo’ak were giggling like a pair of toddlers who had seen a banshee for the first time. Their gazes were surely pointed at their older brother sound asleep and Y/N, cuddled up into him. Y/N’s mortified eyes then quickly found Kiri, who just looked irritated and tried ignoring her siblings, then they traced the frames of Neteyam’s parents. Jake and Neytiri were trying to be mature about it, to put on the blissfully unaware act, even though both of them were the first to find Y/N in Neteyam’s hammock. They circulated around the small table, setting up for the breakfast, and Y/N hid her face in Neteyam’s chest, whispering softly but urgently.

“Neteyam, wake up, please.”

His nose scrunched once but then it felt like his mind just gave up and decided to ignore Y/N’s voice completely. She tried again, this time swatting at his chest just enough to make him shift. The sunlight did the rest of the work, as Neteyam lazily opened his eyes, stretching as much as he could within the proximity of the small space in his hammock. He blinked sleepily, his gaze landing on Y/N and it took him a few seconds to register the situation, but as he did, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Y/N was the woman from his Dream Hunt and last night, as he struggled to fall asleep, he found out that she felt so too, the way she laid into his arms and lulled him to sleep just with her scent. Neteyam’s chest warmed with love, and he couldn’t wait to let her know about his secret.

With a yawn, Neteyam stirred from his seat, and as his eyes grazed around the room, taking in the scene, Y/N was already jumping out of his hammock. 

“Good morning,” he greeted them loudly, giving a particularly stern look to his siblings.

"Good morning," Y/N echoed him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lo’ak and Tuk giggled once more under their brother's gaze, while Kiri only hid a knowing smirk. Neytiri and Jake continued to set up the morning table with content smiles on their own faces. Y/N stood awkwardly next to the hammock, and it made Neteyam’s chest swell with even more amusement. He had never been happier than now, to wake up to the woman of his dreams next to him, with his family being genuinely proud of him. Y/N peeked from behind her hair, as Neteyam stepped out of his hammock with comfortable stature, and she slowly followed after him, as he sat down on the ground around the table.

“Come, Y/N, you’ll eat with us,” Neytiri gave Y/N a soft smile, gesturing to the spot next to her oldest son.

With a nod, Y/N took her place silently, the embarrassment of being caught in Neteyam’s hammock was clearly showing through how deep blue her cheeks were turning. Jake and Neteyam exchanged a knowing look and like a proud father he only chuckled to himself at the situation. And it wasn’t like anything had happened, everyone could have guessed that they only shared a hammock, but to Y/N it seemed like her whole reputation had crumbled.

Kiri, clearly enjoying her friend’s sudden flustered state, couldn't contain her amusement any longer, busted into laughter.

"You two are so whipped."

"Y/N, did you cuddle with Neteyam because you like him?" Tuk added on, her voice filled with innocent curiosity.

Y/N's cheeks turned even deeper at the question, and she fumbled for words, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on her. She glanced at Neteyam, who was trying his best to hide his own embarrassment behind a composed expression. 

“Neteyam is a wonderful person, I mean… everyone probably likes him,” Y/N stammered.

"I mean it's clear she does more than like him," Kiri teased.

People don’t just fall in love overnight. It happens gradually, with shared moments, time spent together, with tears of both sadness and joy. It is just the realization of it all hits them suddenly. Y/N had a whole day to realize that she felt love for Neteyam, but she wasn’t going to say it for the first time so publicly. She wanted it to happen naturally, after she had processed everything herself, alone.

"Come on now, I'd be worried if they didn't touch each other at all," Jake whispered with a snicker, coaxing a small chuckle from Neytiri. He cleared his throat, "Alright, alright, enough for now.”

Neteyam attempted to hide his own smile at the words, and he hung his head, focusing on his food, but his tail quickly and secretly found its way under the table, wrapping around Y/N’s ankle. She shivered at the touch but welcomed it, nonetheless, relaxing just a second later. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re staring again,” she tried to scold him for it, but frankly, there was not a feeling more pleasant than to feel his warm gaze on her.

Neteyam chuckled to himself, the excitement from waking up besides Y/N - woman from his vision overflowing him. Like the pieces of the puzzle were finally fitting together, everything just clicked, his world fell back into its place. He leaned in, his finger hooking under the long necklace adorning her neck and for the third time since she wore it, Y/N couldn’t understand his astonishment with Tuk’s gift. Sat in front of him on the forest ground, as they took a break from the morning chaos with his family, Y/N let out a sigh. There was a mixture of happiness and guilt swirling inside of her, babbling up in her chest to the point that she wasn’t sure how else to behave. It was as if she suddenly had forgotten about who she was.

“You’re still wearing the necklace,” Neteyam pointed out, gathering one of the blue feathers and running it through his fingers with fascination, “Isn’t it too long? Uncomfortable?”

“Do you not think it’s nice? Your sister made it for me,” Y/N teased.

They were close to each other, an undeniable pressure building and hardening in between the two bodies. Like a magnetic pull that lured him in closer, and Neteyam now took another one of the feathers into his gentle grasp, studying it for a moment before breaking into a grin.

“I didn’t even know she was going to give it to you,” he recalled with a low chuckle, almost as if he was saying it to himself. His eyes shifted back to hers, finding Y/N already looking at him, “It doesn’t mean you’re obligated to wear it though… if it’s bothering you.”

“Hey, hands off,” Y/N swatted at his hand playfully, pulling the necklace away from him, “I like it very much, so I don’t really care about the practicality. I think it looks great on me!”

“It does,” Neteyam chuckled, leaning back onto his elbows and Y/N felt a little disappointed at the loss of proximity, “I think you could make anything look beautiful.”

“Oh,” she let out. He was bold. Since the morning, he was more forward than usual, and she couldn’t guess if it was the aftermath of her willingly stepping into his hammock and sleeping with him or was it the fact that their ceremony was fast approaching and now there was only a matter of a few casualties left. But she liked the boldness.

Though Y/N could assume that Neteyam wasn't in the wrong. If he was making a move on her, he was truly just doing his duty, he was warming up to his mate. It wouldn’t be very pleasant to have their first kiss in front of the whole clan, would it? Y/N shivered at the thought of kissing him first, now, alone. There were certainly moments she thought he would, and it almost seemed like if she didn’t push him away, they’d be much closer now than she ever anticipated.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Neteyam promised suddenly, a soft smile stretching his lips.

“Tell me what?”

“Tell you about the necklace… why I’m so intrigued by you wearing it.”

“Is there a valid reason?” Y/N quirked her eyebrow in surprise.

“There is, I just don’t want to scare you away.”

“Scare me away? Neteyam, I think we’re way past that point. It’s not like we can back out now,” she joked weakly.

Neteyam didn’t find humor in her words. Was she still bothered about it? Was she still spiteful of the idea of mateship with him? Surely, if she hated it so much, why would she stay? He was beginning to think that she was finally reciprocating, last night was the testament to that, so why was she back to making these comments? He frowned, suddenly growing silent, and that’s when Y/N knew that she messed up. She jumped to retrieve her words with eagerness, hand clutching at the long necklace.

“I was joking.” 

“I know,” Neteyam hummed softly but his head shook slightly, giving away his disagreement.

Y/N could feel her heart sink at the way his face fell. She leaned in closer, her palms finding support on either side of his body, nails digging into the soil. Their faces were now mere inches apart, and Neteyam's breath caught in his throat, his eyes searching her face.

“I don’t want to back out of this,” she whispered sincerely, her own eyes boring into his.

Neteyam could only gulp, waiting anxiously for her to take the next step. His heart picked up a rhythm, when she finally closed the gap between them, and though hesitantly, but with such tenderness, pressed her lips against his. He welcomed her like the forest would welcome the first warm rays of the sunshine, responding to her kiss. Savoring her taste wasn’t enough, he needed to engrave the way she felt into his memory permanently. 

Love couldn’t be that easy, could it? Falling into the person you were so begrudged against, letting him catch you when there is no one else to witness your fall. Letting him become your rock, your whole world, your person who makes everything else become a senseless noise, a blurry background. When your words are guided by the wish to please him, to humor him, to bring a smile to his face. Falling into him was sudden but easy, careless. It felt right. Like it was destined by the greater power, by the will of Eywa herself. 

Eywa makes no mistakes. Y/N had clung to these words her whole life, in bad and in good, she found comfort in knowing that her journey was already written out, that she was destined for a greater purpose, greater love than she was used to receiving. That no matter the circumstances she had brought upon herself, the Great Mother had been looking out for her, that Eywa brought Y/N the kind of love that she never imagined possible.

The silence as they pulled away was bittersweet. Neteyam could feel his heart almost stop at the proximity, as she was still looming over him, catching on her breath. Overwhelmed, he brought a hand to her cheek to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. Her smile grew, eyes darting between his to guess if he was thinking the same. Y/N had no idea that up until this morning, Neteyam was already utterly smitten with her. That every thought in his mind was occupied with her. 

“What was that for?” he questioned 

“For being patient with me. For seeing me…”

“I do, I see you,” he nodded, eager to spill the confession that has been on the tip of his tongue for some time now.

“I see you too,” she whispered, “I thought I knew what love is. Thought that I got what I deserved and nothing more but now I know how blind I was.”

Neteyam's heart swelled with both joy and sadness. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into him, closing her eyes briefly to savor the moment. 

“You weren’t blind, you were just scared,” he reassured, “But you don’t have to be anymore. I’m here now.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N looked up from her unfinished work to Neytiri for the third time in the past minute, it was hard to concentrate on something she was struggling with, when right next to her, somebody else was doing it perfectly. Neytiri’s fingers worked quickly and gracefully, beads were woven into a shawl with recognizable patterns usually worn by the Olo’eyktan’s family. Y/N sighed in frustration at her own piece of work - a long beaded skirt that was supposed to match the shawl for the ceremony.

“You’re doing great, just be patient with yourself,” Neytiri spoke softly, barely lifting her gaze towards Y/N, but a small smile stretched her lips, nonetheless.

“I don’t have time to be patient,” Y/N sighed again, “The ceremony is tomorrow and…”

“Take your time, the ceremony won’t happen until you finish your skirt the way you like it,” Neytiri teased, putting aside the shawl, as if she was sensing that there was something else bothering Y/N.

To be quite frank, though Neytiri knew from the beginning that Eywa’s signs were truthful, the reactions she first got from her son and Y/N scared her. She could see the way they started looking at each other, the morning Y/N spent in their hut was an undeniable testament to her growing connection with Neteyam, but Neytiri still wasn't completely convinced that they were going into it surely. She watched how Y/N struggled with her weaving for a moment before reaching out to pat her shoulder lovingly, signaling for her to take a break.

“There is something else on your mind that is keeping you distracted. Tell me.”

Y/N gulped nervously, giving up on the skirt. She contemplated for a minute if she should spill the intense guilt she has been feeling since kissing Neteyam onto his mother and possibly ruining the way she was perceived by his family for the rest of her life. 

“I know that after losing someone as close as your mom it is hard to open up to another woman,” Neytiri spoke softly, "But I already consider you my child. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s…” Y/N looked up with a softened expression, “You know why I was so opposed to the arrangement in the beginning?”

“You were scared, no?” Neytiri squinted.

“Yes but there was a bigger reason,” Y/N breathed out slowly, taking her time, “I was in love with someone else… or I thought I was. But we weren’t mated and I don’t think he was ever going to mate with me, so I couldn’t tell anyone that. I could only be angry because I was helpless.”

“Do you still see that someone else?” she asked carefully, like a mother asking her child something she is afraid to know the answer to.

“No. It was Kaye.”

“Kaye?”

Neytiri nodded in understanding, small pieces of information she heard about Kaye’s death were falling into pieces. The way Y/N behaved when he was first shot, how long she refused to attend to her tasks and how Neteyam skipped training to be with her. The days Y/N stayed inside and turned into an empty shell of herself. Y/N wasn’t just angry and rebellious, she was hurt because she was alone. Neytiri reached out once more to pat her on the shoulder with motherly care.

“I’m sorry, my child.”

“I felt so guilty,” Y/N hung her head, staring at her own hands, as she revealed the deepest secret she withheld, “Because no matter how much Kaye hurt me, I didn’t want to fall for somebody else. And Neteyam… he is perfect. I can’t help it, the way I feel about him. But it also feels like betraying Kaye… betraying what we had.”

“Y/N, look at me,” Neytiri spoke gently, “Eywa does not make mistakes, she brings us what we need, even when we don’t expect it. Just because you’re following your destiny, it doesn’t mean you are forgetting Kaye and what you had with him. Your heart is capable of holding both love and memories.”

Y/N nodded weakly, her eyes tearing up at the words she had been so desperate to hear. She wiped her eyes, lips trembling in the search for ways to express her gratitude. Neytiri watched her for a moment with a newly gained perspective. She had always observed Y/N to be a smart empathetic girl but she had never gotten to experience her side of things.

“I understand more than you think I do,” she attempted a playful tone, “Before mating with Toruk Makto, I was meant to be with another warrior… his name was Tsu’tey. It was my duty to the clan, a tradition. But Eywa sent me Jake, a sky person. He was an outsider, it was against all odds, challenged the path I thought was set for me. But love finds a way."

Y/N felt her heartbeat pick up. Surely, she had known the way Neytiri and Jake found their way to each other, how he became the Toruk Makto to prove himself to her. But hearing it like this, from Neytiri herself, made Y/N see her as someone real, who wasn’t perfect, who was once a girl too, torn between her duties and her heart. 

“Eywa has a way of guiding us, you just have to trust her,” Neytiri smiled, her gaze returning to the girl in front of her, “Whatever you feel, know that I am here for you, just as your mother would be there for you. You are a part of our family now.”

“Thank you, Neytiri, for… everything,” Y/N reached out to gently grasp Neytiri’s hand.

She felt accepted and understood. For the first time in so long she remembered the connection she had with her mother. How, no matter the circumstances, she had a safety net to fall into. Neytiri smiled, squeezing her hand, and reached for the unfinished skirt.

“Now, for this part, you’d want to change up your technique…”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lo’ak had never witnessed such unease in Neteyam, it was so out of character for his typically unshakable older brother. This unexpected anxiety radiating from Neteyam has somehow transferred to him too, Lo'ak's palms were sweating, as he observed silently. With trembling hands, Neteyam held up a bowl of vibrant yellow paint to Jake, who dipped his fingers into it and continued drawing a pattern on his eldest son’s forehead,

“You alright, son?” Jake took a small sigh, throwing a quick knowing glance at Lo’ak. Neteyam took a moment to reply.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbled, zoned out, eyes focusing on the horizon with a deep wrinkle forming between his eyebrows, “Everyone is going to be there watching, no?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point,” Jake chuckled weakly, “To seal your bond before the clan and Eywa.”

“Are you scared?” Lo’ak chimed in anxiously, he wasn’t sure if Neteyam’s answer was going to calm him down either way.

Neteyam couldn’t bring himself to respond with words, so he only gave his brother a short nod. Jake frowned and took a step back to glance at him.

“What are you scared of? Everyone loves you and Y/N together, your union has already been blessed by Eywa. You love her, no?”

“Yes! I mean… it couldn’t be anything less,” Neteyam looked up at his father, then sighed again, “But it’s scary. How did you do it? I mean, you gave vows before the entire clan like a hundred times, with everyone watching you, holding you responsible.”

Jake chuckled warmly, guessing that the reason for Neteyam’s nervousness wasn’t necessarily the choice of being with Y/N, undeniably, he was smitten with her, but rather announcing it to everyone. Because once he makes his union everyone’s business, there is no going back. But as the future Olo’eyktan, whatever Neteyam was affected by in his role as the chief was also going to affect the others. Jake thought he knew exactly what to say now.

“It is scary, I’m not gonna lie. It gets easier with time but I remember being terrified to make big promises with everyone’s eyes on me,” a hint of nostalgia flashed in his eyes, then a lazy smile made its way onto the man’s face, “But I have a secret. Helps me every time.”

“What is it?” both brothers asked simultaneously, watching their father.

“Your mother,” Jake answered in a heartbeat, “When you know there is the right person standing beside you, who supports you wholeheartedly and will always keep by your side, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because you’re making a promise to her, and you know that when it comes to her, you will keep that promise with your life.”

Neteyam nodded with a sense of understanding, as if the answer his father gave him, suddenly connected bridges. He rapidly stood up from his seat, shoving the bowl of paint into Lo’ak’s hands, and sprinting away. It wasn't hard to guess where he was headed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N twirled awkwardly, the long-beaded skirt trailing behind her in a swift dance, glistening under the soft sunlight filling out the tent. Neytiri tilted her head slightly at the movement with an approving hum and beside her Tsahik nodded in agreement. Y/N felt herself melting under their gazes.

"Oh Eywa," Kiri’s voice brought her back into a state of insecurity.

Y/N twirled once more, this time weaker, discouraged by the tone. She ran her hands over the beaded top, before staring back at her friend in anticipation.

"What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing," Kiri shook her head, "You just look so beautiful.”

“You look perfect, my child,” like her mother’s voice, Neytiri spoke to Y/N with such surety and tenderness, that all of the worries were now melting away.

"Can I steal her for a moment?"

Everyone's head snapped at the future Olo'eyktan walking in, his eyes glistening at the sight of Y/N in the beautiful garments she had woven for the ceremony. It was too soon for him to be there, to ruin this moment of her bonding with the women in his life, but Neteyam didn't care. Couldn't care if he had to, he was eager to get her alone, to wash away his anxiousness once more before they were mated before the whole clan.

His grandmother tsksed loudly, Neytiri throwing a disapproving glance, and before anyone could really protest how improper it was of Neteyam out of all people to disrupt the tradition, Y/N was already apologizing and running out of the tent.

"Come," his hand found hers like an instinct and pulled her gently towards his ikran, "The Mother Tree is beautiful at this time."

"But there are preparations for the ceremony," she scrunched up her nose at the thought of so many people seeing them.

"Don't worry, we'll just sneak a look and be out of there," Neteyam reassured.

As Y/N followed Neteyam's lead, her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She couldn't believe she was going against tradition, breaking away from the preparations for the ceremony. But at the same time, she couldn't deny the thrill of being alone with Neteyam, away from prying eyes and expectations.

They reached the outskirts of the camp, where the dense forest greeted them with its familiar embrace. Neteyam led her to a secluded spot near the Mother Tree. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a warm glow over the two of them.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

She rolled her eyes but complied anyway with a grin. She felt his touch as he sneaked something into her palm and closed it gently, something smooth and rounded and familiar but she couldn’t guess what it was.

Without waiting for his instructions, once his hand left hers, she opened her palm to find two wooden rings. Y/N looked back at Neteyam in a slight confusion, finding him already smiling at her, his freckles glowing with particular brightness.

“I made these out of the root of the Mother Tree,” he explained softly, “One for you, one for me.”

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, examining the rings up closer, noticing the small patterns needled into them. 

“I know it seems a little simple but let me explain first,” Neteyam stole one of the rings back, twirling it in between his fingers, “Where my father comes from, there was no ceremony before Eywa but there was something similar… a tradition,” he paused to gulp down, suddenly a rush of nervousness overwhelming him, “The couples would exchange rings to symbolize their love for each other. And they would wear it for the rest of their lives to show how their hearts still belong to each other, that they will always be connected.”

Gently, taking her free hand into his Neteyam pondered for a moment before sliding the ring onto her finger. Silently, his eyes asked for approval, and once he noticed hers glistening with the tears of joy and a faint smile forming on her lips, he smiled too, sealing the bond. It fit perfectly, he hadn’t guessed it, of course it would. He held her hand too many times not to know.

“This means…” she whispered, her voice filled with too many emotions, “I want to be connected to you too.”

Without a thought, she slid the other ring onto his finger and ran over the patter with care. His fingers quickly intertwined with hers, the wooden rings clinking from the touch as if Eywa suddenly clinked all of her bellflowers to signify the success of the union. Eager now to express his love, Neteyam cupped her face quickly, resting his forehead against hers with a toothy grin.

“You’re mine now, and I am yours,” he announced happily, coaxing a joyful laughter out of her.

His mouth quickly caught that sound, she nearly stumbled but Neteyam’s hands were firm and steady, pulling her into him. His lips felt so natural against hers, it felt like they were molded off each other and no one, not even Eywa herself, could plan how perfect they seemed to be right in this moment.

As they pulled away, Y/N glanced at the ring again with genuine warmth in her eyes. For the first time in years, she felt happy unconditionally, without fear of losing it. A few more tears streamed down her face.

“Well, now my gift will look lame,” she mocked playfully through the tears, coaxing a chuckle out of Neteyam.

Shaking his head, he reached out to gently wipe away a tear from her cheek. 

"No gift you could ever give me would be considered lame," he assured.

Slowly, she reached into her pouch, carefully taking out the necklace she had prepared to give him during the ceremony. The one that he got a glimpse of the other night, but she was so quick to hide. Woven with intricate patterns it reminded Neteyam of the necklace worn by his grandfather. He took a small breath; his fingers grazed over the beads and feathers to try and feel everything he could at once.

“I made this for you to wear,” she whispered softly, like she was scared he wouldn’t like it.

Unmistakably, it was a necklace worthy of an Olo’eyktan. The colors, the patterns, the size. It was too fancy to be worn by the other clan members, too clanky and beautiful to be used every day. Very fitting to show a status. With trembling hands, he took the necklace into his hands, marveling at its beauty. 

“Are you sure?” Neteyam gulped, looking back at her with uncertainty.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do,” he was quick to interrupt her before she could jump to conclusions, “No. I mean, of course, I like it! But I don’t know if I can wear it… it looks like something…”

“Something like an Olo’eyktan would wear.”

Neteyam nodded in agreement, his own insecurity of his status and fear of leading one day washed over him. He might have prepared for the change his whole life but no one chose him. His father was chosen, but Neteyam was never the leader that his people asked for. Sure, he was strong and brave and smart but was he capable of being the one? These thoughts would often consume his mind with a rotten feeling of incapability, vulnerability that would ultimately make him question everything about himself. So why was she sure of him?

“Well, you are the Olo’eyktan. My Olo’eyktan,” she assured with a soft smile, as if guessing his thoughts. And just like that, he felt the weight fall off his shoulders.

Her faith in him was like a guiding light, illuminating the path that seemed so unknown and dark before. He realized that it wasn't about living up to the expectations of others; it was about doing his best while he had her by his side.

Neteyam, suddenly flustered by the way she was looking at him, eyes so full of love and admiration, looked down. His eyes caught the blue and instinctively almost his fingers reached to graze the blue feathers of the too familiar necklace. Y/N shivered at the touch.

“You know how I saw a woman in my vision, during my Dream Hunt?” he whispered, looking back up at her.

Y/N nodded with an understanding, showing that it wasn’t something she could forget. The memory has set in motion the whole ordeal, their mating, their fate.

“I couldn’t see her face… I thought it was only a sign I was ready, that it wasn’t anyone in particular that Eywa was showing to me,” Neteyam continued, lost in his own thought, “But there was something odd about her… a long necklace, just like yours, with blue feathers, going all the way down… too long to be worn by anyone else. I thought it was odd but then... what isn’t odd about getting a vision from Eywa during your Dream Hunt?” Neteyam chuckled and paused, waiting for Y/N’s reaction, “It was you, wasn’t it? From the beginning, it was destined to be you and me.”

Y/N put her hand over his, the one that was still holding onto her necklace, her eyes widening in surprise. Her heart raced at the revelation, and just like a confirmation, she noticed a woodsprite floating around the two of them. Eywa makes no mistakes.

the end!

this was lazily edited so please don't mind me, i'm just glad to have put out this final chapter! i hope you enjoyed the series, i know i did, thank you!

♡taglist♡: @kiri-tuk @samiiistarss @afro-hispwriter @iwantjaketosullyme @thexplosivegirl @peachinsomniac @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @koala-wonderland @sakura-onesan @dimplesxx @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @theycallmesia @crazy4books1 @empiricsad @summertimedepression @vihelm @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ducks118 @couragemydearheart @xstarsmvxz @jkeluv @qtkat @marsbars09 @buckysleftarm420 @soleilmoon @blueslxt-primary @kavyaas-world @books-for-summer @tojis-discord-kitten @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @jackiehollanderr @totesnothere04 @mirandathebanana @mommyneytiri @blueslxt-primary @killinqpills @aconstructofamind @cinetrix @samistars @ttkttt @neteyamisbae @void21 @melsunshine @amalaaaa11

[eiwasuli]

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

Word Count: 50k words (completed 25 july 2023)

Warnings/notes: enemies-to-lovers, arranged mateship trope, angst, smut, fluff, the works

Synopsis: Neteyam wants to be the best at everything. Unfortunately for him, so do you. You and him have competed all your life for the title of Omaticaya's best warrior, for validation from the tribe's leaders, for your peers' respect, but most of all, to finally settle the lifelong simple question plaguing you both: who's best? The oldest Sully boy hates you for taking his parents' attention, you hate him for every bruise, cut and scrape you suffered at his hands, and when Mo'at announces you are to be a mated pair, the hatred is bound to explode and leave a few victims behind, including both your hearts.

➺ Chapter I: Why You Gotta Be So Vicious ➺ Chapter II: Hiding Our Sins From the Daylight ➺ Chapter III: I am Lost, But Not In You ➺ Chapter IV: It's In Your Image I'm Made ➺ Chapter V: This Stupid Thing Called Love ➺ Chapter VI: Something's Made Your Eyes Go Cold ➺ Chapter VII: Maybe We've Had Enough ➺ Chapter VIII: Sorry For Not Making You My Centerfold

[eiwasuli]

I — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Sun & Moon couple, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped

Word Count: 2.4k | AO3 LINK

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

"With the return of the sky people, our journey led us far, far up the horizon, where a towering mountain stood. Beyond the winding paths of its rocky terrain, nestled in the heart of nature's embrace, lay the village of the Iuva'ri clan—the ikran people of the mountains.

Iuva’ri was a beauty which both awed and intimidated those foreign to it. The village was tucked deep in a sheltered valley, bathed in the warm golden glow of the setting sun against the snow-capped peaks. A sanctuary hidden from the outside world. A perfect place for us to disappear without a trace.”

Flutters of the ikran's wings echoed loudly through the crisp air, alerting the people of their arrival. The once peaceful ambiance of the secluded village turned into a stir of commotion. Warriors sounded their horns, their urgent calls spreading like ripples through the village. The sight of the newcomers had ignited a sense of both curiosity and apprehension among the villagers, for rarely did travelers venture into their remote home.

As the crowd gathered at the center of the village, their gazes fixed on the newcomers, a mix of intrigue and wariness painted their expressions. Jake dismounted from his ikran gracefully, gesturing for his family to do the same. Neytiri's hand instinctively moved towards her bow, a hint of concern in her eyes. But before she could react, Jake rushed to stop her, his expression urging caution.

"Don't. Leave it," he murmured lowly, gently easing the weapon away from her grasp and tucking it back into the banshee's pouch. His mate sent him a disgruntled look in response but made no attempt to fight his decision.

"Alright. Come on," with a wave of his hand, Jake began to lead his family into the village, arms spread at his sides in an attempt to appear as docile as possible. "Let's be nice."

Neteyam followed in his father's footsteps, carefully observing his surroundings as he ascended the treacherous mountain slopes. His calculating eyes swept across the rugged terrain, taking in the awe-inspiring beauty of the snow-capped peaks and the vast expanse of the chalky landscape.

As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, and Neteyam shivered from the biting chill that enveloped them. The icy wind gnawed at his bones, and he pulled his shawl closer around him, seeking any respite from the relentless cold. This mountain was a stark contrast to the warm and humid forest he was accustomed to, and he felt the tingling sensation of numbness spreading across his exposed fingers.

As he navigated through unforgiving terrain, he found himself yearning for the comfort of home, longing for the lush green forest that offered a familiar warmth. Despite his reservations about this desolate place, he remained silent, his lips drawn into a tight line as he focused on the task at hand.

His attention was momentarily drawn away when a low whistle lanced through the air. Tilting his head up, Neteyam's gaze followed the sound, and he watched as a banshee glided gracefully through the skies. 

With a thud, the beast landed before them, sending a thick cloud of dust into the air as its rider dismounted. The rider was a tall, elderly woman, her midnight black hair contrasting against her milk blue skin. Her frosty eyes scanned their features, taking in every detail with a sharp intensity. A thick coat of fur was draped over her shoulders, and a billowing cape trailed behind her as she sauntered towards them, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Olo’eykte Ìumayi,” Jake bowed his head low, fingers extending from his forehead in a gesture of welcome. “I see you.”

Neytiri too bowed her head, gaze drawn to the ground as she murmured out her greeting, “I see you, Ìumayi.”

The woman continued to remain silent, circling them like vultures. Neteyam stood firm in his spot, his eyes never leaving the chief’s stalking figure.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she broke the silence, her voice dripping with a leering caution, "Why do you come to us, Toruk Makto?"

Neteyam observed his father's reaction to the title, noting how he tensed up and his face contorted into an unsightly grimace. Given that the Iuva'ri clan's culture revolved around their sacred bond with Ikrans, it came as no surprise why his title held such immense significance to them.

In contrast to her husband's visible unease, Neytiri stood tall, her demeanor unyielding as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"We seek uturu," she declared.

In response to Neytiri's words, Ìumayi whipped around violently, her expression hardening as she directed a stern glower towards them. "Uturu?" she questioned sharply.

“Yes,” Jake affirmed. “Sanctuary. For my family.”

The people around them erupted into a hushed, agitated chatter, but the chief was quick to silence them all with a snap of her fingers.

“We have heard tales of your times at war, of your blood from the sky people, and of the victories that have earned you praise among many Na'vi," Ìumayi spoke with a measured tone, her voice heavy. "But my people are not at war. I apologize, but I cannot allow you to bring your bloodshed here."

Jake's response was immediate, a mix of desperation and determination evident in his voice as he hurriedly spoke, "I'm done with war," he asserted, lowering himself to scoop up Tuktirey into his arms. The little girl sought refuge in the safety of his embrace, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. "I just want to keep my family safe."

Observing the tender scene, Ìumayi's stern exterior softened slightly, her warm eyes studying the family before her. Bowing her head in contemplation, she took a moment to weigh the consequences of her decision, fully aware of the significance of this encounter. With a heavy sigh, she finally lifted her head and made her verdict, "I will allow it."

The relief that washed over Jake was palpable, but before he could express his gratitude, Ìumayi raised a bony finger, signifying there was more to be said.

"I will allow it. On one condition," she continued, her gaze now turning towards Neteyam, holding him with an inquisitive gaze. "I understand you are the eldest, correct?"

Neteyam acknowledged the chief's attention with a nod, his heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

With a wave of her pale hand, Ìumayi turned to the crowd before her, calling out a name as she gestured for someone to come over. The crowd parted instinctively, revealing your figure. As you stepped closer and closer, Neteyam found his mouth growing dry once he fully took in your features.

Inky jets of midnight-black hair cascaded over your shoulders like a shimmering waterfall, adorned with an enchanting array of bioluminescent gems woven into each braid. Your skin, a mesmerizing hue of cool blue, appeared as though it were delicately bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Jagged, milk-white stripes adorned your limbs and face in an intricate pattern, reminiscent of a celestial canvas. It was as if the very hand of Eywa herself had delicately painted them onto you.

“This is my eldest daughter, Y/N," Ìumayi spoke with pride, gently guiding you to stand by her side, a strong, protective arm enveloping your shoulders. "With the recent passing of my beloved mate, she has stepped forward, assuming the role of Tsahìk."

You took a moment to study their curious expressions, your eyes reflecting an understanding for their situation, “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Neteyam stood in awe, watching as you gracefully acknowledged and greeted his family members. The solemnity of your father's absence was palpable, but your calm welcome brought a glimmer of warmth to the otherwise tense atmosphere. And as you turned to face him, the warrior felt his heart leap to his throat.

“Neteyam,” you called out, his name dripping off your lips like a sweet, thick syrup. The Omatikayan watched intently as you curled your fingers, tracing your hand up from your chest up to your forehead before extending it out towards him, icy gaze piercing through his very being, “I see you.”

Fuck.

Neteyam feels his mouth go slack, skin breaking out into a cold sweat as a rich, deep warmth spreads through him. It was a simple greeting, no more. You were merely welcoming them into your village—Trying to be courteous. And yet, why is it that the way you were looking at him left a searing burn in his chest? Twisting at his heart and sending his pulse into a rapid thrum until he could barely breathe?

Both Lo’ak and Kiri observed his reaction with amused grins. To knock him out of his trance, Kiri roughly shoved at Neteyam’s side, gesturing towards your awaiting figure. Almost immediately, he grounds himself, cheeks burning into a dark indigo.

"Tsahìk Y/N," he uttered shakily, his fingers clumsily returning the respectful gesture. His heart pounded blaringly in his chest as he gazed at you, trying to steady himself in your presence. "I see you."

Your smile, gentle like a soft breeze, acknowledged his greeting before you turned your attention back to your mother.

"I have reason to believe that this meeting with Toruk Makto's family is fated," your mother spoke out, "Many nights ago, before his death, my mate was blessed with a vision from Eywa herself. In the sacred embrace of dreams, the spirits revealed to him a profound prophecy of two clans uniting as one—a woman and a man forging an unbreakable bond."

The words of their chief hung in the air, and a hushed silence fell over the gathering as the significance of her statement registered with everyone present.

"As you all know," she continued, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, "I am not getting any younger, and my time draws nearer to its end. And I remind you all that the weight of this responsibility was not one I bore alone; a Tsahìk needs an Olo’eyktan by their side."

A moment passed as the implications of her words settled into Neteyam's mind, and then realization dawned on him.

"This vision bestowed upon my mate," she began, "is not to be taken lightly. It is a direct call from Eywa herself, and as I stand before you today, I believe that the very individuals foreseen in that vision are here before us."

Ìumayi's gaze locked onto Neteyam, her eyes seeming to peer into his very soul. "With Eywa's guidance," she continued, "I propose a union between my daughter and Toruk Makto's eldest son."

The people around them erupted into chaos, their voices rising in a cacophony of opinions. Some had cried out in agreement while some were outraged at the idea of an outsider leading the clan. And as the concerns of his parents too filled the air; Neteyam felt a tumult of emotions within him. He knew their apprehensions were driven by love and care, yet there was an unexplainable energy surging through his veins, compelling him to step forward, to embrace the path laid out before him.

Before he could fully process the weight of his decision, his lips moved with a life of their own, the words escaping him faster than he could think, "I accept."

The crowd falls deathly silent at his declaration.

As the weight of his own words settled in, a storm consumed Neteyam. Accepting this union had been an unforeseen choice, one he had never anticipated making. It led him down a path he had never imagined walking, and uncertainty clawed at the very core of his being. 

And yet, as he turned to look at you, he found these worries falling silent. The sight of you ignited a surge of emotions within him, an overwhelming rush that defied comprehension. It was as though an irresistible, magnetic force was drawing him closer to you, as if every beat of his heart called for your name.

The warrior heaved a sigh, lowering his gaze to the ground and bowing his head as a gesture of respect to your mother.

“I am willing to accept this union," Neteyam affirmed, his eyes flickering back to meet yours, "Only if she will have me.”

Lo’ak's lips twitched, a hint of a grin threatening to break free, but he bit down on his lips, holding back the laugh that threatened to escape. His gaze met Kiri's, and they exchanged a knowing look, both equally amused and astonished by their older brother's unexpected behavior. Neteyam had always been the pillar of stability and composure in their family, making his impulsive acceptance of the proposal all the more surprising.

Lo’ak turned to glance at their parents, noticing his mother's eyes which were wide with concern. It was evident that she wanted to say something, but their father subtly pulled her back, silently urging her to hold her words for the moment.

Neytiri took a moment to study Neteyam's face, the resolve and determination etched across his features. Their gazes locked, and she saw a depth of conviction in her son's eyes that she hadn't witnessed before—a fierce certainty that he had made the right choice, even if it was sudden.

In that moment of silent understanding, Neytiri nodded her head, her concerns momentarily quelled. "If that is what he wishes," she said, her voice softening with acceptance, "we will support him."

Ìumayi’s smile grew slightly wider, her eyes shimmering with approval as she turned her attention to you. "Good. Now, ma’ite, what say you?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet expectant.

The world around you seemed to blur for a moment as you locked eyes with Neteyam, the unspoken bond between you both intensifying.

From the days of your childhood, you had already accepted the prospect of a planned marriage, or at best, one founded on companionship. To you, as long as your partner proved amiable and undemanding, it would be enough. And yet, you could not have even begun to imagine that you would end up in a marriage with Toruk Makto's son.

In the face of the unexpected proposal, you responded with a firm nod, your voice steady with conviction, "If Eywa wills it, then I shall accept as well."

The sight of Neteyam's smile and the exuberant whip of his tail around his feet brought a surge of unforeseen warmth to your heart. The moment felt surreal, like a dance with destiny that had been set into motion long before this day. Perhaps, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Your mother nodded, her expression reflecting satisfaction and pride.

"Then it is settled," she declared firmly, "Toruk Makto and his family shall stay with us, and his son shall be promised to my daughter. We'll teach them our ways and treat them as our own."

“May Eywa bless their path."

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

[eiwasuli]

hello! recently i just made a AVATAR FANFICTION COMMUNITY, i wonder do you wanted to join? It’s not perfectly complete yet (i’m still struggle with the BOT) but if you want to join i can send you the link

Are there any discords for Avatar (the blue people)? Specifically fanfic writers, artists etc.

I would love to find a small community to bounce ideas off, share thoughts and character analysis and exchange fics with!

[eiwasuli]

avatar discord! (updated with discord server link)

hello to all avatar writer and reader community!! so i was planning on to create a avatar discord only for writer and reader!! i’ll update the link soon but if you wanna join, please reblog this post so other writer and reader can join too!

if anyone can help me build a discord its would be great. thank you!!

here is the brand new link for y’all if you wanna join, i’m really sorry about the late update!

discord server link

[eiwasuli]

hi!!!! i have a req for neteyam x na’vi reader with a “marriage of convenience” trope. where reader does genuinely try to make it work with neteyam, but after months of being shut down she stops trying after talking to kiri. neteyam has always treated reader as a duty to be fulfilled, but LOWKEY has feelings for her he keeps SUPPRESSSSEDDDDD. however, after one of readers good friends from another clan visits, neteyams jealousy gets hold of him. you could make the rest however you’d like, but happy ending please🫶🏽

Pairings: Neteyam x F! Na’vi! Reader

Type: One Shot

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Angst, Miscommunication, slight jealous, not proof read, edited to fix mess ups

Side Bar: You’re amazing for requesting this! Thank you!!!

Avatar Masterlist

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

Love, that elusive and mysterious emotion, has captivated you since you first heard about it. The concept of love is a feeling of warmth, passion, and a connection that's deeper than anything else, impossible to ignore. It's terrifying and exhilarating, often filled with moments of joy, uncertainty, and vulnerability.

But falling in love? That's a whole different story. It's like the world suddenly shifts into a whole new perspective. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, and everything you didn't care about before suddenly becomes beautiful and captivating.

Your thoughts, your mind, your body - everything is consumed by the object of your affection. No amount of daydreaming or silly little creepy crawlers in your tummy could ever prepare you for finally being seen by them, for being loved by them.

It's tragic that not everyone has the luxury of falling in love for themselves. In many clans, people come together for the benefits of both parties. Love becomes an afterthought when situations arise, and it breaks your heart. It's almost like love becomes foreign to them, despite having found it on their own.

But to be forced into a relationship of convenience, not truly knowing the other person, is frightening and challenging. They're a stranger, and it feels so wrong to love them. It's like they weren't made for you, like Eywa didn't create them for you. And it hurts. It's a deep, stabbing pain in your chest that never truly goes away.

Why is it that anyone but you is allowed to love who they want?

The thought reverberates in your mind, a constant reminder of the burden you bear. Love, the very essence of Na’vi emotion, was supposed to be a choice, a right, not a privilege granted by duty. But there you are, trapped in a loveless relationship, forced into a union that you never wanted.

"It's your duty," they told you, as if that was supposed to make it easier. As if it was supposed to alleviate the guilt and the pain. "You will learn to love Neteyam, the chief of the Omaticaya Clan." It was always for the greater good, always about the needs of the clan. "This alliance will strengthen the Na'vi, it is the will of your father."

But what about your will? What about your heart? You didn't want to learn to love someone; it wasn't realistic, it was forced. The very idea of it was distressing, and it made you sick just thinking about it.

You knew, deep down, that it wasn't about how you felt, though.

It was clear as you saw your future mate leave your shared hut hurriedly, feeling the weight of the unspoken understanding between you. He was just as much a victim of this situation as you were, and it was obvious that love was an afterthought to him, just as it was to your people. You were just a means to an end, a pawn in a game that you never asked to play.

But you had to play along, no matter how unbearable it got. You sought him out against your better judgement, watching him like always from the distance at first. It was justified, your future mate was intimidating in both height and build. If he wanted to, he could break you easily, ridding you of existence due to your constant annoyance over the past few months.

When you finally work up the nerve, the training session have ended and you use that time approach him, fiddling with the small basket of Yovo fruits, “Ma Neteyam,” you called out to him, grabbing his attention immediately.

He tenses up, his face hardening as he motions with his head for the last young warrior to leave before giving his attention back to you, “Ma [Name], what are you doing here?” He asked, eyes flickering to the basket. His hands twitched by his side but remained there.

“I knew you would be training hard, Neteyam, so I thought I'd bring you a treat," you said, smiling up at him. You cringed inwardly at how needy you must look, reminding yourself why you had to get along with him.

Neteyam's lips formed a tight line, and his forehead creased as if he were pondering something difficult. Finally, he bowed his head to you. "That's kind of you," he said, his eyes drifting off to the side. "But I don't want any. Perhaps the trainees would?"

You could tell he was playing the nice card, as he always did. What he really meant was, "I don't want anything from you." Your ears flattened against your head in disappointment, and you lowered the basket.

"Of course," you said, trying to hide your disappointment. "What a great idea. Do you mind giving it to them then?" You raised the basket, suddenly feeling the weight of it more heavily than before, and offered it to him.

As Neteyam took the basket from you, you couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. Maybe this time would be different. But as his fingers brushed yours, you felt him pull away as if your touch was toxic. His reaction stung, but you tried to hide it as he turned away from you.

"Of course," he muttered, barely looking at you.

You couldn't stand how he was treating you. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried, he was always shutting you out. You couldn't help but wonder if he was even trying to make this work.

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, you couldn't force him to love you, but on the other hand, you couldn't bear the thought of being alone if he doesn’t come around. The fact that this was all just for the benefit of your clans didn't make it any easier.

You tried to salvage the conversation, “Will I see you for dinner?” You tried again to make the effort, only to be shot down immediately, no hesitation whatsoever.

“I have patrols. Don’t wait up.” He left soon after, leaving you frustrated and hopeless. Nothing you ever do is reaching him, was he made out of actual rock?

It's annoying how one-sided everything feels.

You always initiate contact, never the other way around. You bring him gifts, participate in his customs and traditions, and cook for him, only to be met with silence or absence. And yet, you continue to do it all with a forced smile, hoping that one day he'll see your effort and reciprocate.

But the reality is, you don't know how much longer you can keep up this charade of a marriage. From the outside, it's a picture-perfect union, respected by all. But inside, you barely speak to each other and can't stand being in the same room together for more than a few minutes. It's like there's too much space, yet you feel suffocated at the same time.

You expressed how you felt later that day with Kiri, as you always do. She, along with her youngest brother, Lo’ak understood what it was like to feel different from her people—soon to be your people. So it felt right confiding in her, knowing she gets you when your future mate doesn’t make the effort to try.

Kiri sat next to you, intently fixing a necklace for one of the clanmates who had messed up. As she worked, she spoke softly, "That's unlike my brother, I don't understand why he's acting like this towards you." She gave you a sympathetic look before continuing, "I know it's frustrating, but give it some more time."

You couldn't help but let out a frustrated huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "That's all I've been giving. When is enough time enough?" you asked, your voice tinged with annoyance. You knew you weren't exaggerating or imagining things.

Kiri paused her work, considering your words for a moment before offering a suggestion. "Perhaps you need to approach it differently. Focus on yourself, as he focuses on the village. Maybe then he'll realize that he should have been focused on you too."

You looked at her with surprise, not expecting such wise advice from her. As she placed the finished necklace on the low table, you smiled genuinely for once, feeling a glimmer of hope. This was the best advice she had ever given you, and you knew it was time to stop waiting for him to come to you and start putting your own feelings first.

After thanking Kiri and complimenting her handiwork, you left her hut feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The air felt fresher and lighter, as if the weight of your worries had been lifted off your shoulders.

From that moment on, you threw yourself back into your tsakarem training, determined to become a skilled and respected member of the Omaticaya clan. By immersing yourself in their culture and customs, you began to feel a deeper connection to both the people and the land.

This newfound sense of belonging also opened up new opportunities for you to assist with the day-to-day tasks of the tribe, and in return, they offered their guidance and support to help you adjust to your new way of life.

The perfect example would be currently, where you were in your hut crushing herbs that Tuk had brought you after hearing you asking about them. You were actually happy knowing Neteyam’s family were warming up to you. But Neteyam was still distant.

As you crushed the herb, you couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration and hurt. You had heard countless stories about the Omaticaya chief, Neteyam, and his unwavering loyalty and attentiveness to his people. Yet, when it came to you, his soon-to-be mate, he seemed to give you the cold shoulder.

You had tried to make him a priority in your life, but it seemed like he didn't feel the same way. Why did he get to act like he didn't want you while you had to pine after him? It didn't make sense to you, especially since you were in an arranged marriage for the sake of your clans' alliance.

As you were lost in thought, you were startled by the sound of your hut's entrance swooshing open. You looked up to see Aeknim, one of your close friends from your old home, smiling at you. "[Name], I was hoping you were here!" he exclaimed, taking a seat across the low table from you.

“Aeknim, what are you doing here?” You asked, curious about the goofy grin on his face. You haven’t seen him since you left, to come out of the blue must be important.

He chuckled, raising his head high, “I have found a worthy mate.” He proudly said, patting his chest with his right hand for a job well done.

You put down the pestle you were holding and clasped his hands in yours, "That's amazing news, my friend! Tell me all about her." As he shared the details of his new love, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.

Aeknim spent the afternoon telling you all about his new mate while you caught up on old times. You even forgot about your tsakarem training for the day, knowing that there were other healers in the village who could cover for you. One day wouldn’t hurt.

As night fell and it was time for Aeknim to depart, you walked him to the edge of the village to say goodbye. You ignored the curious glances from your fellow villagers as you hugged your friend tightly and bid him farewell, wishing him well on his journey and sending him off with some healing ointment in case he needed it.

When you approached your hut coming back, you noticed Neteyam standing in front of it, his expression inscrutable as he watched you approach with a predatory gaze. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wondering what had brought him here.

Without preamble, he demanded, "Who was that?"

Confused, you asked, "Who was who?"

Neteyam inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tensing as he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they blazed with an intensity that made you take a step back. "The man you were walking around the village with," he said, his voice deeper than usual as he stepped closer to you. He bent his head, allowing a few braids to fall into his face. "That's who I'm talking about."

You recoiled at the sudden change in Neteyam's demeanor. The tension emanating from him was uncomfortable and you couldn't maintain eye contact with him any longer. As you tried to process his words, you looked away.

Aeknim was the man he was referring to, but you couldn't fathom why Neteyam was so bothered by you walking with him. You decided to meet his intense gaze again, but his eyes, usually a bright yellow, were darker and it made you shudder.

"Yes, Aeknim came to visit me," you confirmed, hoping to dispel any misunderstandings.

"He came to see you?" he repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion. He leaned back slightly and asked, "Why did he come to see you?"

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden interest in your life. You couldn't recall a time when Neteyam cared about what you did or who you spent time with, and it annoyed you that he was being so attentive now.

"Why does that matter to you?" you asked, your tone defensive as you tried to keep the frustration out of your voice. You noticed his tail swishing behind him aggressively, and it only served to make you more uneasy.

Neteyam didn’t like what he was hearing. No, he didn’t like what he was seeing. His mate was defending another male, it made him sick inside and angry… the only male you should be protecting is him.

"You are my mate--" he began, but you cut him off, your ears flattening against your head at his words. You could feel your own anger rising, a fierce determination filling you.

"Yet, I am not your mate yet," you corrected him, standing your ground. You had done nothing wrong, so where was this interrogation coming from? It was almost as if he had lost his mind.

Eywa help him.

Neteyam shook his head, his braids swaying with the movement. "Now and then, you are my mate!" he spat, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Who visits my mate late into the night is my concern. You are my concern."

“You have an interesting way of showing concern for your mate, especially over the last few months,” you retorted, holding back a scoff as you watched confusion flash across Neteyam's face.

“Did you forget? Because I certainly haven't,” you continued, your expression softening slightly as you finally allowed your exhaustion to show.

It had been a constant struggle trying to reach him, and now is the time you choose to feel vulnerable, “You've been distant while I've been trying to connect with you. Not cold, necessarily, but you might as well have been with your absence.”

Neteyam's face softened as realization dawned on him as you continued, “I had to learn how to live here from people other than you. Your family has been around more than you have.” You finished, waiting for a response, but he simply stood there, eyes lowered towards the ground.

This time your scoff freely at him, honestly disappointed. You thought this conversation was getting somewhere, somehow to a point where you can come to some sort of agreement but there he goes again avoiding you.

Having enough of him, you brush pass him to enter the hut, “Of course, you have nothing to say.” You expected him to leave after that, like he does every morning to get away from you but he enters behind you, his expression morphed into determination.

“I have nothing to say,” he started, standing in the doorway, despite his expression, his body betrayed him as he’s slightly hunched over and his ears a deep purple, “because I don’t know how else to act with the one who I’ve already fallen in love with, but haven’t fallen for me yet.”

His words catch you off guard, and you turn to face him fully, shoulders losing its tenseness, “What?” You can’t believe he just said that. He loves you?

“I’ve noticed you more than you noticed me. I know that your actions mean nothing to you, while if I returned them, it would mean everything to me.” He started walking towards you, “I know your feelings you display towards me are not genuine. I know you don’t want to mate with me. I know and still can’t help but fall.” He stops a feet away from you, eyes trailing over your face.

“How can I do those things knowing what it means to me, that you don’t see me like I see you.” He finished, looking you in the eyes. There they were, bright yellow, nothing like the other harsh color. He looked as you expectedly, gentle, yearning and vulnerable.

Your throat tightened with emotion as you gazed up at him. His confession was a shock, but a welcome one. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and you saw him in a new light. Perhaps you had been blind to his feelings, too caught up in your own concerns. Perhaps you had been the one in the wrong all along, insensitive to his emotions, and acting selfishly.

Looking at Neteyam now, you saw a man baring his soul to you. He was hoping for your acceptance and understanding, acknowledging his mistakes and making an effort to set them right. You saw him in a new light: gentle, kind, compassionate, and fierce - just as all the stories said.

How could you have missed this before?

"I had no idea," you said, your voice quivering with emotion as tears welled up in your eyes. "I was so focused on my own desires that I neglected to ask about your true feelings."

Neteyam shook his head, "It was my fault for not showing you how I truly felt. If I had, we wouldn't be in this position now."

You chuckled softly, tilting your head down as you brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "You're right about that," you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours. Bringing it to your chest, you looked up at him with a shy smile. "But it doesn't matter. I see you, Neteyam. All of you."

Neteyam's eyes lit up, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He looked so handsome and carefree, and you couldn't help but think that this was what had been holding him back all this time.

"I see you too, [Name]. I always have," he said, pulling you close to him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

Maybe you can learn to love him, wholeheartedly and authentically.

Edit: Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Means a lot ❤️ Helpful hint for reblogs, be sure to add # to be found

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New post : all my life I had to fight, Lo’ak x human! reader

[eiwasuli]

JUST NETEYAM | neteyam x reader

pairing: olo'eyktan!neteyam x f!reader

summary: despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.

word count: 8k

warnings: arranged marriage trope, fluffffff, love-at-first-sight kinda thing, a bit of angst in the beginning, traditions, non-sexual nudity, prejudiced reader, royal neteyam, he is just such a prince it’s unreal!!

note: all characters are aged up by five years. the title eyktan/eykte (leader) being unofficially reserved for the olo'eyktan (clan leader)’s mate made sense to me since both are supposed to rule together. please correct me if i’m wrong. see end notes for more.

* gif‘s not mine.

You will learn to love her. He remembered his mother’s voice, and he recalled the vast expanse of the sky, where billowing clouds danced gracefully and the wind embraced him with gentle caresses. The sky, like an endless canvas, painted in hues of blue, purple, and gold, held a beauty that stirred his soul. 

Instead of roaring waves crashing against the cliffs, he witnessed the majestic flight of ikrans, soaring high above the jagged peaks. Their wings, strong and mighty, carried him through the heavens, as if he were a part of their elegant dance. Gone were the humpbacked sea surfaces, replaced by the boundless freedom of the open sky. The white foam, once adorning the ocean’s crown, now transformed into fluffy clouds, resembling intricately woven blankets. It was as if the heavens themselves provided a soft embrace, offering comfort and warmth.

Keep reading

[eiwasuli]

i love ur writing sm! don’t know if ur taking requests but if u are, i’d love to request something 💌 so let’s say neytiri was already bonded/mated w someone else, jake still had feelings for her, even though she doesn’t have any feelings for him besides respect and a platonic love. anyway jake being the ole’eyktan the na’vi are pushing him to get married/bonded to further the Omaticaya clan. anyways reader is like a warrior! like neytiri level but she’s always been indifferent toward jake, so she’s against the wedding but she’s the best candidate for it, came from a respected Omaticaya family, and just like their relationship and how they fall in love, you’d get extra brownie point in how much i love ur writing if u make jake fall in love first and have them confess their love for each other in a angsty way LMAO love u bff, love ur writing, excited for anything you write ! 🫶🏼

thick skull

pairing: jake sully x reader

warnings: none!

summary: in which you are forced into an engagement with omaticaya's clan leader.

word count: 3.0k

author's note: this took me a while, ahah, but here it is! i hope you like it. i tried my best to make it a little bit angsty. also to other followers, i took this request before i officially put up my navigation. so from here on i won't be taking any requests for now!

When you were first told of the arranged engagement, you were furious and went off hunting for hours until your father had called you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want a mate, no, but having one thrusted upon you out of  nowhere just because the ole’eyktan needed to be bonded with someone quickly pissed you off. But unfortunately, you couldn’t disrespect your family by acting out, even if you wanted to shoot something, you had your duties, responsibilities. If you’d fail to do this, you’d bring shame upon the family.

And it really jabbed the knife even further when you first met Jake Sully, leader of Omaticaya, and saw that he had eyes for someone else who was already mated.

“He is pathetic!” You seethed to your father back at your tent. “Not only do you expect me to marry an outsider but skxawng who is after a mated female!”

“You will do this, y/n!” Your father shouted despite your mother’s attempts at calming the both of you. “I will not have a failure in this family all because you are too stubborn to listen!”

“Aaah!” You hissed, snatching up your bow. “He would be dead before we are even wed if you keep pushing this on me!”

“y/n, please.” Your mother spoke before your father could argue any further. “Leave us, my love. I will handle this.”

After sending you a stern scowl which you steadily didn’t back down from, he marched out of the tent, leaving you and your mother alone.

“I know how you feel, my daughter.” Your mother cooed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I too was in the same position as you.”

You huff, “then I pity you.”

Your mother smiled, “you do not have to like him, just do it for the good of the clan. The elders have chosen you and for that you should be honored. Blessed to be looked upon by Eywa that she has handed you a mate.”

“He is not my mate.” Every bit of you wanted to fight this. Storm the elders’ tent and make them choose another naïve woman to fulfill this deed. You were not naïve.

But you also weren’t dumb.

After another long look from your mother, you breathed out a strained sigh, “He loves another. He will reject me. What am I to do with that?”

There was a subtle look that passed over your mother, one that you couldn’t make much of as she spoke. “You will not be rejected. Trust the All Mother, my beautiful child. Trust her.”

Giving into your parents’ wishes was like giving up a piece of yourself in the process. And since this wasn’t the usual process of finding a mate, your wedding would be soon. And you hardly even met the man you were to call your husband.

He was always either busying himself with the tribe duties or purposefully avoiding you. Your mother dismissed the idea and said he would not disrespect the union like that, especially as the clan leader. You on the other hand withheld judgment, albeit not perfectly, you waited.

You would not go to him. He would come to you.

The day that had happened was during one of your hunts in the forest. You were launching most of your arrows into a small pond of fish. But just as you pulled back another arrow, there was a sudden sound behind you.

Fortunately you were fast.

You spun around and let the arrow go. It was a warning shot mostly and you completely expected it to miss the target just barely.

But what you didn’t expect was to see Jake Sully standing there, surprised by the arrow now in the tree next to his head.

You pulled back another arrow.

Jake held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I come in peace!”

“You should know better to sneak up on a na’vi woman.” Your grip tightened on the arrow. “A very angry one at that.”

He took a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You hissed, reluctantly lowering your bow. “And find a different pond to hunt, this one’s taken.”

As you turned your back to him, Jake spoke, “Actually, I was looking for you.”

Now you were on guard. “Why?”

You watched him carefully as he slowly approached only to stop and kneel next to the pond, “Figured it would be better to meet my future mate now rather than wait until the wedding.”

He grabbed one of the arrowed fishes and took the arrow out of it. Still you watched him as you knelt down, further away from him. “You’ve met me. Once.”

Jake looked at you now, brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count.”

Now you frown, not in irritation but in confusion—and okay maybe a little bit of irritation—“What do you mean it does not count? That is when we met. When the union was first announced.”

“Yeah, but…” He sighed, placing the fish down next to him as he grabbed another arrowed one from the pond. “We didn’t have much of a conversation then…”

“I did not want to talk to you.” You say bluntly, snatching the arrowed fish from his hands. “And I don’t wish to now.”

Jake watched you, “You’re mad at me.”

“I am nothing to you.” You state simply.

He stood as you got into the pond to grab the rest of the dead fishes you shot. Just as you went for the last one, Jake snatched it up before you. You hiss. “Give that back!”

“What did I do?” He instead asked, keeping the fish away from you as you tried reaching for it. “Tell me what I did and I will give it back. Allow me to fix it.” You stare at him, warily and confused. “Please.”

“Why do you care?!” You snapped. “You don’t even want this union either, so why should I believe that you care?!”

Again, you try reaching for the fish. This time you get close only for him to grab the arm that nearly grabbed the fish, holding you in place.

“Because, believe it or not, I do care.” Jake frowned down at you, pinning you with his intense gaze. “I get it, neither of us likes this, but we’re going to have to work together at least, right? Be partners through this?” Finally he let your arm go, “We don’t have to like it or each other. But let’s just get it done, alright?”

Finally, he handed the fish back to you. Hesitantly, you took it.

“Deal?”

You watched him in a very calculated silence, holding the fish close to your chest as if he would reach over and take it again.

After a pause, you finally said through gritted teeth, “Fine, Jakesully. I agree to be the utmost loving wife you could possibly have.”

He winced and you turned your back to him.

Was this what awaited you in marriage? A bitter, cold, and distant union? This is what your mother, your father, and your people wanted? Did the All Mother herself want this?

If so, Eywa was wrong.

Jake didn’t mean for your relationship to start out like this. After the wedding the two of you hardly spoke in the beginning. Giving vague replies, barely having any conversations. This wasn’t what he had in mind at all.

You seemed better off, not entirely bothered by the distance between the two of you. Jake knew he had to fix it.

So on days where you least expected him to show up, such as your hunting days, he was there. At first you hated it and would always tell him off. But with great reluctance, as some days and weeks passed, you had grown used to his presence, as annoying as it was.

“Why do you follow me?” You ask one day, clutching your bow close to you. You were watching him with narrowed eyes. “Almost every day, I think you are busy with your duties as clan leader but then I turn and there you are. Why?”

Jake’s ears perked up as he knelt down to finish off your last hunt for the day. It had been twitching and whimpering still. He’d notice you often hesitated to finish the kill whenever you did catch a good hunt. There were days where he wished he could do it for you instead of watching your endless and silent torment before finally killing the animal.

You noticed his actions as well.

“We had a deal, remember?” Jake grinned before standing up. You frowned and his smile grew wider, “What, didn’t think I’d keep my word?”

All you did was give a quiet “hmph” before dragging the animal away back to your shared tent. A part of him hoped for a better reaction but then again he’d be a fool for not knowing any better.

It continued on like this, but it was an improvement! Now he got grunts out of you and longer responses. Sometimes he’d ask you questions about your family and how you learned to hunt. You, of course, were still wary of him for some reason. Like there was always something stopping you from opening up to him. Again, he really couldn’t blame her. They were strangers forced into a marriage, this type of stuff is bound to take some time.

No worries. Jake Sully liked to think of himself as a patient man.

Not.

But the day things began to really change was the day your mother had fallen ill. You were trying to stay strong, you accepted every condolence the tribe people offered you and remained the strong warrior that everyone knew you to be. But every night you were at your mother’s side, in tears, lost, and afraid that one day you would wake up one morning and your mother would be gone.

Your father had tried to force you to seek comfort from your husband but you’d ignore him and keep at your mother’s side whenever you could. But you noticed, even after rejecting your father’s request, Jake was there. All that time. He would be standing outside of your mother’s tent when you left late at night, waiting for you. You acknowledged him once and that was all you could give him at the time. But there was some inkling of you, hidden behind the protective armor, that was thankful for him. For just doing something as simple as being there.

One night, he wasn’t waiting for you. And at first, you felt this strange feeling of disappointment settle on your shoulders, adding to the exhaustion that has been weighing you down ever since your mother’s diagnosis. But you pushed it away and wandered off.

You did not go back to your tent right away. Instead you went to the Spirit Tree. For months you had been angry with Eywa, about the union, about your father, and now even about your mother’s illness. And yet here you were, turning to her one last time to ask for help.

What you didn’t expect was to find Jake there as well.

The bushes had alerted him of your presence. Jake turned and stood when he saw you, almost as if he were caught in the act of something scandalous.

“What are you doing here?” Eventually you ask.

Jake cleared his throat, “I-um-I came here for your mother…”

You had never been so shocked. “What?”

“I know you don’t want me getting involved, I just thought…” Jake sighed before looking up at the Spirit Tree with a long and thoughtful expression. “To be honest, I don’t even know if it’s going to work.”

Still, you were startled and now staring at him as if he were someone else. Another stranger. But this time…

“Why would you do that?” You shakily ask, willing the tears back.

Jake stared at you, brows furrowed until he smiled, “Believe it or not, I actually do care about you and your family, y/n.” He approached you but didn’t get too close. “I thought we knew each other enough by now that you’d notice…”

“I don’t know you, Jakesully.” You say quietly, stray tears falling past your cheek. “I thought I did. But I do not know now.”

He nodded, watching you carefully. “That’s okay.”

Slowly, you made your way toward him, the distance going from long to a hair between you. You did not want to cry. Every harsh word your father had uttered to you about your tears had crossed your mind. Usually, it would immediately make you stop and calm down, pushing it all away. But this time, it only became worse because the only reason you were able to push it away was because your mother had always allowed you to release it just for a moment.

All you wanted was to hide away. And you did. Resting your forehead against Jake’s shoulder, hoping your cries were quiet. It wasn’t until Jake tightly wrapped his arms around you did you finally let yourself cry.

And just like that, your walls were slowly beginning to come down.

It was against your will really. There was something about Jake, there had always been something about Jake, that made you want to try. That made you want to believe that this union could be more than where the two of you were at now.

Your mother had gotten better but it wasn’t without difficulties. Jake was there at your side the entire way and you let him. And you loved it. While your father had completely shut himself away from you, you had Jake now.

And soon, you were starting to begin to understand what your mother had meant.

There was a special celebration that the whole tribe had come together to celebrate. You were at Jake’s side, watching him be a chief for the first time. You were amazed at how well he had adjusted to his new role. Granted, he was still weak in some places, but that was where you always came in. A partnership. That’s what the two of you had for right now.

And maybe the potential for…

Neytiri and her mate were at the celebration. You hadn’t been the only one to spot them.

Only a fool wouldn’t notice just how much Jake was smitten with her. You watched as they locked eyes for a brief moment but your chest hurt so much all of a sudden, you had to turn your eyes away and focus on the rest of the celebration.

You had been the fool.

After the celebration you did not go back to your shared tent. Instead, you went to the trees and remained there until eventually your husband found you.

“Something happened.” He guessed as he appeared next to you in the tree. You tried your best not to throw him off as he sank down next to you. And he had the audacity to look worried for you. “y/n—”

“I do not want to talk to you.” You hiss, jumping down from the tree.

Jake came down seconds later, “You're upset and I’m worried. You didn’t even come back to the tent—”

“I do not want to talk.” You say again as you begin to walk away from him.

Of course, he followed.

“y/n, I know when you’re upset. Tell me what’s happened—”

You whirled around on him, “If you truly did know me as you so claim, then you would know exactly what it is that upsets me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, “You’d know exactly why I can never allow myself…” No. No. Your voice wavered. No, you had to be stronger than this. You glared at him, angry that he would have this effect on you. “I will not allow myself to be hurt by you, Jakesully! I will not!”

His face fell, almost as if he were hurt by this. “Hurt you? W-Why would I hurt you?” You shook your head and tried backing away but he caught your arm. “y/n, just stop for a moment! Okay, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Then why didn’t you just choose her?!” You shouted. If the words didn’t shock him, the shove from you certainly did but he was quick enough to catch himself. “The least you could have done was spared me all of this pain! But instead you want to torture me! Instead you want to make me fall for you only to break me in the end! At least allow me to suffer in peace!”

The look on his face was unreadable and all you wanted to do was be left alone at this point. Your father was wrong. Your mother was wrong. Eywa was wrong. Why did the All Mother wish this suffering upon you? Why did she wish you to endure all of this? What had you done to deserve this?

You hadn’t realized you were crying until Jake’s larger hands cupped your face and wiped the tears away. You hadn’t realized his lips were on yours until you responded back immediately, pulling him closer to you. It was pathetic really, how much you craved his taste just by the one time you’ve gotten a lick at it. It was pathetic really, how much you wanted more of it.

Jake pulled away slightly and whispered, “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or leave you to suffer…I don’t think I could live with myself if I allowed that to happen.” A small smirk appeared on his  lips. “And I thought I was the only one going crazy with all these feelings.”

Despite yourself, despite the euphoria, you whispered, “What about—”

“Hmm, looks like I’m not the only one with a thick skull around here.” Jake grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I want you, y/n. There’s no one else…what I had for Neytiri has gone. I want to start this life with you and only you.”

It was like your body had a mind of its own at the moment as you wrapped your arms around him, just to have him closer to you. And he held you just as tight.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” You whispered, so quietly that Jake barely heard you.

There was another kiss against the side of your face.

“I was just waiting for you to notice me.”

[eiwasuli]

— 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 [𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦]

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is too blinded by duty to realize what he has right in front of him. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count  — 5.6k (this isn't even a drabble anymore).

the tags & warnings — language, more emotional constipation, mentions of blood & injury, childhood friends(?)2l, unrequited love, angst w a semi-happy / openish ending.

the notes  — based off of this request & this one ! let’s pretend the trees of souls didn’t get burned down in the first movie :) 

masterlist

You were an odd thing, curious, maybe a little strange, but like learning anything, everyone had grown accustomed to your weird little habits. Everyone except for Neteyam, the clan leader’s son. And the weird habit in question was poorly-expressed words of adoration that seemed to meld into unconventional confessions as you got older. 

It started when you two were eight, perhaps nine. The two of you were in a village elder’s tent, learning the best ways to debone fish to prepare for meals when she’d ducked out for a moment and left the two of you in a cloud of uncomfortable silence. 

Neteyam’s fingers were nimble, swift, while you lagged behind, eyes fluttering to the way he seemed to grasp the elder’s instruction with more ease than you. 

“We should always be together,” you’d said absently, still fiddling with the same fish while Neteyam moved onto the next. “I will be useless to our family without you.” 

Neteyam’s spine had gone rigid, gaze wide as he side-eyed you from his seat. 

“Huh?” He’d clearly been caught off guard, ministrations on the catch frozen as his eyebrows furrowed. 

“When we are married,” you’d said, holding the bone structure of your first fish triumphantly.

“Married?” he parroted shrilly, fully turning to face you. 

You looked up from your task, nodding like it was the most common of knowledge.

“Yes, Neteyam,” you affirmed, chuffing a small laugh. “In the future, when we are married.” 

Neteyam wouldn’t have been so off put had the comment been a one time thing, but they were frequent, spoken both in the quiet of much-dreaded time alone with you and hushed whispers in the midst of the other villagers your age. 

It wasn’t any help that his parents seemed to always set the two of you up in many endeavors over the course of your adolescence. And he’d tried, tried so hard to shake you over the years, but you were glued to his hip. 

You look handsome today, you’d say often, regardless. Training is paying off, whispered in his ear as your fingertips smoothe over the skin of his biceps. I hope the little ones grow to be as mighty as you are, spoken after sessions in the archery circle. The comments are all fleeting, mentioned in passing like a casual word, but they make Neteyam warm, make his cheeks heat when he searches your face for any betrayal of emotion. 

But all he’s met with is an expression that borders smug, one that makes him wonder why, out of all of the boys growing into fine young men over the course of your adolescence, had you picked him to be the object of your affections. 

Try as he might, to be short-tempered, callous, you were always there. He sought the attention of other women, tried to put as many bodies between the two of you, but you were relentless, smiled gently when you’d catch his wandering hands against the skin of another, would turn a blind eye when his lips brushed too intimately over eager ears.

At first he figured that maybe it was because he was the first boy you’d encountered and it’d just been the way the cards were dealt. At times he thought you were messing with him, a long-running joke between you and some unknown entities to fuck around with his feelings. His current theory, however, is one that he sits more confidently on when he begins observing you. 

You spend an awful amount of time not only tailing him, but tailing his family, pestering Kiri and Lo’ak about god knows what, spending many afternoons schmoozing with his parents, seeking guidance from Mo’at. 

He comes to the conclusion, after some time, that you’re trying to solidify your place within his family, trying to secure your role next to him as the future leader of the clan. This much is confirmed when his parents bring up the sore topic of you one night once everyone has turned in after the evening meal. 

“The time for your selection feast is arriving,” Neytiri says hesitantly, like she’s treading on thin ice. 

Neteyam has an inkling where this conversation will go when Jake shifts to sit next to his partner, the perfect picture of what a love that transcends all should look like. But he doesn’t know love, just knows preparing for his future and what ruling the clan will look like. 

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees. 

“Do you have someone in mind?” Jake prods, busying himself by toying with his songchord. 

To his dismay, you briefly eclipse his mind, the annoyingly beautiful girl he’d grown up with but, even a decade later, still can’t seem to get a good read on.

“No,” he answers slowly. 

His parents seem to chew on this for a moment, glancing at each other momentarily before Neytiri draws in a deep breath and focuses her attention on her oldest son all over again. 

“Well…your father and I believe that perhaps ________ could be a good choice.”

It’s like a bomb detonates, but the aftershocks are only seen in the way Neteyam’s lips purse and his brows furrow. 

He’s not one to go against his parents, but he’ll be damned if he has to spend forever with you. 

“No,” he repeats, but with time with vindication. 

Jake looks stunned, back straightening as he takes his son in with wary eyes.

“No?” 

“No,” Neteyam reiterates. “I would rather spend my life alone than spend it with her.” 

“Neteyam,” Neytiri sighs. 

“I’m sorry, Mom, I won’t,” he says firmly, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he glances between both of his parents, hoping, wishing that maybe they’ll see that this isn’t a good idea.

“Maitan, you don’t understand,” Neytiri says softly. “When you and ________ were born, Ewya gave us a sign.”

Neteyam’s blood runs cold. 

“So this has already been decided?” he asks, voice eerily steady. 

“Not necessarily,” Jake interjects. “We didn’t want you two to feel like you were being forced to be together so we hoped that encouraging you both to spend time together would allow something to develop…” 

“But they haven’t, so now it’s a not-so-silent push,” he says shortly. 

His parents share another look and he feels annoyance beginning to form in his gut. 

“We wouldn’t say that there aren’t any feelings there,” Neytiri says. 

Neteyam breathes a humorless laugh as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I don’t feel anything for her,” he says with finality. “Nothing about a union with her piques my interest. We’ve been in close proximity since birth but my heart feels more for the trees in the forest than it ever will for ________.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Have you thought about giving her a chance?” he pushes. “She’s a lovely girl, really likes you.” 

That draws another huff of humorless laughter from Neteyam. 

“The only thing she’s interested in is status and being tsahik,” Neteyam scoffs. “There is nothing there.” 

Neytiri opens her mouth to say something, but Neteyam has mustered up as polite an excuse as he can as he stands to his feet and bows his head to his parents. 

When he ducks from the tent, he doesn’t expect to see you lingering outside of the exit.

His face morphs as the quiet words leave your lips. 

“You doubt my affections for you.” It’s a statement and a question wrapped in one, but you’re resigned, like always, and Neteyam can’t seem to grasp what you’re trying to get at clinging to him, to whatever this dynamic is. 

“What’s this game you’re playing?” he accuses, eyes narrowed. 

“What game?” you ask, gaze unfaltering as you stare up at him with those round golden eyes. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“Our entire lives, from being kids to now, you’ve toyed with me,” he says fiercely. “With this idea of us. Why? I’ve given you no reasons to be fond of me, yet you’re always here, there, everywhere.” 

“I have much to be fond of,” is your simple answer and Neteyam could groan in frustration. 

“Like what? Being the olo’eyktan’s son? Holding the future of this clan in my hands?” he asks sharply. 

“I would love you, circumstances withstanding,” you respond. “You don’t have to be afraid.” 

Love. 

What an odd concept, weird. One that Neteyam can’t seem to wrap his mind around when it comes to you. Doesn’t think he ever will. 

“Afraid of what?” he bites. 

“Of loving me back,” you say. 

He grimaces like the very thought disgusts him, like you’re an aversion he desperately wants to rid of. And perhaps you are, you realize, seeing years of pent up frustration and anger culminating into one big wound ready to rupture. 

“You think I love you?” he asks incredulously. 

He doesn’t miss the way you shrink, blinking quickly. 

“If you gave us a chance, maybe,” you whisper.

It sounds like the conversation with his parents all over again and realization seems to shutter across his features as he looks down at you. 

“How long have you known?” 

“Known what?” you ask quietly. 

“How long have you known that they’re trying to force us to be together?” he asks. 

You’re silent for a moment before muttering something under your breath. 

“What?” he snaps.

“They aren’t forcing us,” you clear your throat. “Not me, at least.” 

He scoffs. 

“Of course,” he mocks. “Because it only matters what you want out of this. Not that for the last decade I’ve been trying to get you to back off, trying to get you to understand that I don’t want this. I don’t want us, and if it means forfeiting my responsibilities, then so be it.” 

It’s a lofty statement, one that seals the last nail on your coffin. 

You’d loved Neteyam for as long as you can remember, have probably liked him for longer. When your parents told you early on that Eywa had given both of your families a sign that you and Neteyam were meant for one another, you’d embraced the idea wholeheartedly. Loved the idea of loving him even through moments when he’d try to drive a wedge between the two of you. 

Give him time, your parents had said to you. Jake and Neytiri want his feelings to develop naturally. 

And you waited. God, you waited, for so long. Waited for him to come around, to realize the things he did to you. Perhaps you had been too presumptuous, thinking that he’d be able to read you behind such a stoic facade, afraid that if you revealed too much of your wanting, you’d turn him off from the idea of being with you. 

But as you stand here before him, small under such a burning gaze, you realize that it’d been wishful thinking. Choosing him meant nothing if he didn’t choose you back. 

“I see…” you trail off quietly.

“Do you?” he asks, tone facetious. 

You nod once, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to see that his expression twitches the tiniest amount when he clocks the way your body seems to deflate.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.” 

His following days are quiet, filled with personal duties and commitments to the clan. He’d expected you to sleep off the night’s confrontation, he certainly had, a twinge of guilt searing his gut.

But you’re good at hiding, good at masking your feelings, good at disappearing. It doesn’t bother him at the beginning, figuring that you need your space, but then it’s a dull ache that ebbs into a grating gnaw as his every other thought flits to you and what you could be doing now that you’ve settled such a wide distance between himself and his family. 

“You are injured a lot more these days,” Mo’at observes, slathering the viscous mixture over a cut between his shoulder blades. 

He remains silent, doesn’t know how to admit that he’d been far more reckless these past few days in the hopes that he’d run into you in his grandmother’s quarters. A silent yearn to feel your skilled fingers work over his wounds, tender as you try to pry your way into his heart. 

Mo’at had been the one you spent the most time with, diligently training in the chance that Neteyam would finally see you, would make you his. But right now, you’re nowhere to be found and all he’s rewarded with is his grandmother’s rough hands and inquisitive gaze.

“She made this salve,” Mo’at says, filling the silence with idle talk. “Found a recipe that speeds healing and softens the skin.” 

“Did she?” Neteyam responds absently, imagining you picking and pruning the herbs yourself, frame languid as you move through the brush. 

“Said she didn’t want her lover to have such tough skin.” 

There’s laughter in his grandmother’s voice, but he can’t find it in himself to see the humor in the situation. Not when he’s beginning to see that maybe he’s not just another rung in the ladder for you, that duty is the most miniscule drop in your bucket.  

“Where’s ________?” he asks after a moment, hissing through his teeth when his grandmother’s fingers prod the wound. 

“Taking a break from her studies to assist Ama with the children,” she answers, and he misses the knowing look in her eyes. She pats his shoulder when she’s done patching him up. “She’s a fine young woman, Neteyam. Many of the villagers do not turn a blind eye to that fact. If she is not the one that your heart desires, give her the opportunity to align with one that does.” 

It makes something ugly, green, roil in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you being the subject of houndish eyes. You’re too reserved, too sweet, too devoted to be anyone else’s. 

And the thought floors him, makes the knot growing obnoxiously in his throat choke the air from his lungs. 

“Yeah,” he agrees in a whisper. 

And he knows that his grandmother is right. Knows that he shouldn’t be asking about you, doesn’t have the right to hold you hostage if the union is something that truly unsettles him. But the thought of letting go of whatever the two of you have is surprisingly indigestible. 

Neteyam is frustrated, thoroughly disoriented now that all he can think of is you. He’d tried everything under the sun to shake you, to get you to throw your cards in first, but now that you have, it’s like you tug on a string tethered to his hellish heart. 

He stands to his feet and turns to face Mo’at, giving a respectful nod before exiting the tent. 

It’s wrong, he knows it, seeking you out after burning every bridge between the two of you, but he can’t help it. Can’t help but enter the clearing in the forest carved through with a stream that the little ones play in. 

You’re exactly where his grandmother had said you were, sitting near the edge of the bubbling waters with Ama, a girl a few years your senior. The children are giggling, laughing as they splash each other, splash you. The expression on your face falters a little, stern as you adjust the netting strapped to your chest. 

The air is trapped in his lungs as he realizes. Sees the little head that peeks from the top of the fabric, ear pressed to your heart as you cover the baby’s head from the children’s gleeful laughter. 

“That’s not very nice,” you say gently. “Your little sister is trying to sleep.” 

Your voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck prick, a soft rasp that’s haunted him for the last few sleepless nights. It’s odd, seeing you in this light, relaxed from your lack of duties. You’re in your element like this, smiling and coddling the children of the clan as they climb over you and poke and prod. 

“Teyam!” One of them clocks him before he can retreat and his spine is going stiff, stomach turning when he sees the way your expression melts. 

“Hi,” he greets simply, unable to form anything more solid in the fears that he’ll spook you. 

The kids start emerging from the stream one by one, surrounding him as he takes a few tentative steps into the clearing. 

“Neteyam,” Ama greets cordially, eyes flitting between the two of you as you busy yourself with the little one strapped to your chest. 

Neteyam, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you. He’s silently pleading with Eywa, with whatever other force lies out of reach that you’ll just look at him. But you’re locked up tighter than a vault, obviously still reeling from the confrontation all those days ago. 

He hums your name, gentle like a prayer. Your eyes are hesitant, watching the snoozing baby in your arms before glancing at the remaining children in the stream before finally meeting his longing gaze. 

“Can we talk?” he asks you, flashing one of the curious kids a brief smile when they tug on the hem of his loincloth. 

Your response is far more blunt than he’d expected, taken aback when you murmur a firm, “No.”

He supposes that he deserves that, has earned the warmth that eclipses over his cheeks as the children watch the exchange with inquisitive eyes. And the way you stand to your feet to wrangle the village’s little ones is merited, telling them that playtime is over. 

But as Ama helps you gather their things, sensing the obvious tension between you and the olo’eyktan’s son, he realizes that he can’t just let this go. He won’t. Not without making things right, without telling you that loving you isn’t the hard part, it could never be. 

But agency is something his parents have withheld from him his entire life, molded him into being the perfect son that bends to the clan’s every beck and call. Loving you was just another thing to add to the list of things he did for everyone else’s sake but his own.

He sees now, though, sees that loving you, being in love with you isn’t a difficult feat. Not when he’s been given the smallest glance into what having a future could be like with you. Especially not when he’s learned so many things about you in the moments where you’re a fleeting plume of smoke that surrounds and chokes him all the same. 

He calls your name again, firm this time around. There’s a stutter in your step, he sees the way your shoulders draw taut with a labored sigh. 

You murmur something to Ama, undoing the ties to the netting that carries the dozing infant. Neteyam watches as you shush the kids, reminding them to be good to their tsmuke on their journey through the forest. 

Your fingers are gentle as you tie the last knot, brushing Ama’s shoulders lightly as you tell her you’ll catch up with her shortly. 

When they’re out of earshot, clambering back into the village circle, you turn on your heel, standing on the opposite side of the embankment. The glittering waters gurgle between the two of you as you wait patiently for Neteyam to muster his courage. 

“About our union,” he starts. “I–” 

“I’ve told my parents to forgo the preparations,” you say softly, seemingly unbothered as you pay more attention to the blades of grass that tickle your ankles. 

Neteyam’s spine stiffens.

“Why would you…” 

“You don’t want this,” you repeat his words from the fall out. “You don’t want us. We’ll both be unhappy.” 

It makes his heart squeeze. 

“You would be so unhappy in our union?” he scoffs, like he’s cracked the code. 

He doesn’t expect the humorless laugh that spills past your lips, obviously laden with tears when he focuses hard enough. 

“Of course I would, Neteyam,” you say fiercely, quietly. “I have spent so much of my life being so disgustingly in love with you when all you’ve wanted was me gone. Do you really think I’d let myself suffer at the expense of someone who would rather be alone than be forced to spend time with the likes of me.” 

You make it sound horrible. And perhaps it was, being so taken by someone who’s life mission was to sever every carefully stitched tie.

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s coming to terms with the fact that maybe he’s been gravely mistaken this entire time. 

“So have your freedom,” you say chillingly. “I surrender.” 

He’s closing the distance between the two of you, splashing through the shallow river to root you to place, fingers wrapped tightly around your elbow. 

You snatch away from his grasp, turning so sharply, he stumbles back. The pad of your finger pokes harshly into his chest, tear-filled eyes brimming as your gaze searches his face. 

“Don’t be heartless,” you hiss. “If there is one thing I will ask of you it is to leave me alone.” 

The distance between the two of you widens as you pluck your bow and quiver nearby and rush off into the brush, leaving Neteyam in the quieting clearing to allow the weight of your words sink to his bones. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching the same spot you’d disappeared past, but the forest is beginning to glow and he should be home soon. 

The entire encounter puts him on edge as he climbs through the foliage, moving over fallen logs and blooming flora. His muscles are taut, shoulders tight as he maps the long route back home.

It’s only when a sudden crack in the distance sounds that he becomes aware of how still the forest seems around him, like there are eyes and ears watching his every move. 

A look in the sky reveals a darkening swathe of midnight, leaves gleaming from outstretched branches. As he surveys his surroundings, his ears prick, picking up the most minute of sounds, rhythmic against the dense grass. 

His hand is on his dagger in an instant, eyes wild as he holds his breath. The pulse is nearing, almost insignificant against the backdrop of nature’s call, but something isn’t right and it makes nausea stir in his stomach. 

He blinks once, twice, before something closes over his mouth and a body seems to fuse against his back. 

“It’s me.” Your voice is ragged, hushed against the shell of his ear, and he nearly melts, fingers loosening from around the hilt of his knife. 

“I–” 

“Don’t speak,” you warn. “They are near.” 

He tenses again as you move your bodies behind a curtain of green, off the trodden path. 

“There are five of them,” you whisper and he shivers something fierce. “Two down, three on foot.” 

After years of training from his father, he knows who they are. 

“How did you…why do you–” 

“You didn’t return to the village,” you hiss. 

His heart skips a beat, thrumming because even if you’d been angry at him, you’d noticed his absence. Had gone looking for him, even. He turns to face you, wants to tell you that he’d do anything to make things right, but he realizes that now’s not a good time. 

You’re pale, gravely so, a feral look in your eyes as you grasp at your left side. 

Blood. You’re bleeding. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Stop,” you breathe shakily. “Not now.” 

“________, you’re wounded!” he protests. 

You slap a hand over his mouth, golden eyes widening as you press closer to him. 

He takes the opportunity to peer over your shoulder in pursuit of an exit wound and sighs when he finds the skin still intact. 

“You’re hurt,” he tries again, grabbing the wrist clutching your side. 

You shake your head vehemently. 

“Stop it, Neteyam,” you plead hoarsely. “We need to get rid of them before they find the village.” 

You’re right, he realizes, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he notes the tremble of your lip and the furrow between your brows. 

“Okay,” he swallows, nodding hesitantly. “Okay.” 

“Near the Tree of Souls,” you tell him, knees shaky as you draw an arrow and load your bow. 

You creep forward slowly, willowy frame shielding Neteyam as you move through the forest. 

He barely notices, only sees it when you pause a moment too long, body twitching as the bow quivers in your loosening grasp. 

“________?” Neteyam’s voice is testing, closing the berth. 

Your bow lowers, fingers brushing over the wound once again. When you assess the wetness of the pads of your fingers, Neteyam’s able to get a good look at the damage. 

His eyes widen, grabbing your shoulders tightly when he sees that your eyes are drooping. 

“Wait,” he says sharply. “Don’t—”

Your bloody hand brushes his chin. 

“Make sure…make sure they are…” 

“She must rest.” 

“It will only be for a moment.” 

The words slur together, distant and muddy as your eyes flicker open to assess your surroundings. 

“Maite, you are awake.” Your mother kneels next to you, expression a picture of harrowing concern. “Oh, Eywa, I’m glad you are awake.” 

It returns in waves, like the ebb and flow of water dousing you. The enemy, in bodies like your own, ruthless to creatures both gentle and roaring. Clothed like humans with gear so imposing, you nearly shrunk with such a small bow and only enough arrows to make each shot count. 

You’d taken out two of them with shaky hands before their hailing bullets pierced the trunks of trees and left gaping holes in the leaves. One had landed, lodged its way right above the left side of your pelvis. 

It aches as you sit up, seeing the aftermath of what must have been a grisly extraction. 

“Stop, stop,” your mother says quickly, hands on your shoulders to guide you back. “You will disturb Mo’at’s work.” 

“There are more of them,” you rush. “They are–” 

“Shh, my child,” she coaxes. “They are gone.” 

It had been a horrific sight, seeing Neteyam carrying you back to the village, limp and listless, covered in the blood of multiple parties with a nearly animalistic look in his eye. 

“Where is Neteyam?” you whisper, lashes wet. 

The look on your mother’s face softens with pity, knowing, as she sees it written all over your face. 

She’d known it before and she’d known it after you approached her and your father with the request to call off the union. 

I don’t love him, you’d said, unable to meet their eyes as you confessed. Eywa’s made a mistake with us. I want to be with someone that I love.

You’d been embarrassed, wanted to save face. You didn’t want them to know that the only man you’d ever known from adolescence to young adulthood hadn’t wanted a thing to do with you. 

“I’m here.” 

Neteyam’s entering the tent with your father hot on his heels, obviously defying his wishes to leave you be. 

His forearm is wrapped in medicinal leaves, tied off with thin vine. A cut slices his brow bone, the wound still red and raw. 

“I told you–” 

Your mother shoots your father a contemptuous look before turning to you to smooth some of the hair away from your face. 

“Eywa makes no mistakes, Maite,” she whispers, gaze pleading. 

She’s on her feet, crossing the tent to meet Neteyam half way. With a comforting squeeze to his shoulder, she pushes your protesting father through the hide and suddenly the air is shrouded in silence save for your labored breathing and the weight of the eldest Sully’s gaze. 

“I thought I lost you,” Neteyam says, the tiniest inflection of trembling pricking your ears. 

You blink, watching as he stands at the end of the mat. He’s fidgeting but his eyes are searing, shaking with tears as he stares at you unblinking—like you’ll disappear between the shutter of his heavy eyelids. 

You don’t know what to say, the lump lodged in your throat far too thick for you to form coherent words around. 

Neteyam continues for the both of you. 

“I thought that I wouldn’t…that I…” 

You watch as he crumbles. 

“Wouldn’t what?” you finally ask, voice dry. 

“I thought that I wouldn’t be able to give us a chance.” 

Your jaw tenses, breaking eye contact first as you shake your head in defeat. 

“There isn’t an us,” you sigh shakily. “Said so yourself.” 

“Oh, come on,” Neteyam scoffs, voice thick with tears. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” you argue, clutching your injured side as it pulses with every beat of your thundering heart. 

“Don’t—don’t give up on me yet,” he whispers. “Please.” 

Your expression crumples and his face falls as you knuckle your tears away angrily. 

“You’re cruel, Neteyam. So so cruel,” you murmur. “I am ashamed that you have my heart.” 

The words are spoken with a quiet vindication that makes Neteyam feel like his nerve endings are fraying. A singular tear arcs over the swell of your cheek and an ache roots in his gut. 

“Don’t say that,” he says, throat bobbing as he swallows the emotion threatening to bubble over. “I–” 

“Neteyam.” Your father’s voice is stern, the flap of the tent flipping as he reenters. 

Neteyam bites the inside of his lip as he spares you one last glance and your resolve dissipates when the broad expanse of his back faces you. 

You’d expected Neteyam taking his leave to be some semblance of closure for the two of you, as clean of a break as you could come to terms with now that any precarious ties that bound the two of you were severed. But you hadn’t anticipated the singular ember inside of Neteyam fanning to be engulfing and all-consuming. 

“I know you’re there,” you say simply, plucking the petals and leaves from the flora to tuck into the small pouch strung across your chest. 

He’d been following you all afternoon, lingering a safe distance away, but his eyes haven’t left your healing frame and what had initially been confusion began to bleed into annoyance. 

“Pay me no mind,” he says simply, emerging from the brush with a bow and quiver.

It’s been over a week since the sky people had infiltrated your corner of the forest and Neteyam hasn’t let you leave his sight once.

From the morning eclipse to the evening’s, Neteyam’s doted on you; shearing chunks of fruit, grinding down your herbs for your treatments, rewrapping your wound under Mo’at’s careful supervision. 

You’d asked him to give you a moment of peace in the forest alone, but it wasn’t long before you scented him, heard his labored breathing as he tried to keep up with you. 

You heed his word, stonewalling his presence like he’s nothing but another leaf stretching from the trees. And for a while, a long stretch of silence surrounds the two of you as you venture deeper and deeper into the forest. 

But before you know it, each one of your steps is exchanged like for like, his looming and muscular frame eclipsing you like a shadow as you try to ignore the fact that he’s drawing nearer. 

You turn on your heel to face him just as he settles a pace away, eyes clear and golden. 

“What?” you snip, taking a step back. 

He takes a step forward. 

“You should not overexert yourself,” he replies simply. 

“And what happened to paying you no mind?” 

His fingers brush your sore wound and your gaze flits to the way his fingertips ghost over the dressing wrapped around the expanse of your lower abdomen. 

The grin he gives you has many layers. You immediately decipher something sly, coy, as he searches your face. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says quietly. “I want you to pay me all the mind.” 

Your expression is dry, eyes rolling as you step away from him. You’re swatting his palm away and shaking your head like a final warning. 

“You don’t get to flirt with me after all this time,” you say, blanketing the semi-tense air with a cover of finality. “And you shouldn’t. There is no longer an obligation for us to be within vicinity of each other.” 

You sound so cold, like you hadn’t spent the past decade pining after him in your own weird way. Like you hadn’t turned a blind eye when he found comfort in hopeful women despite wearing your heart on your oddly-stitched sleeve. Hadn’t been so willing to spend forever with him.

“You cannot dictate the turn of my heart,” Neteyam argues. 

The look you give him could instill fear in even the most intimidating predators. 

“You’d go to great lengths to quell a guilty conscience?” you ask. “Do not forget that forever is a long time. If nothing about our union piques your interest now, do not count on anything in the future.” 

You’re feeling for buttons to push, tender spots that will make him let up, but Neteyam isn’t easily swayed. He doesn’t know if he loves you now, but the last few weeks make certain that he will. He isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s falling fast and hard.  

“You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, yawne.” 

The nickname makes you freeze, makes your eyes narrow as you glare up at the future olo’eyktan. 

“Don’t be insufferable, Neteyam.” 

“Duties be damned, I’ll spend every remaining moment doing right by you,” he says, fingers threading through yours so that he can bring your knuckles to his lips. 

Your heart wavers and he sees the way the curtain falls, eyes a fraction softer. 

He grins, tugging you closer. Moves your hair over your shoulder then skims his fingers along the sharpness of your jaw. 

It draws a shiver from you as you shift nervously, gaze fluttering from his eyes to the plush of his mouth. 

“Stop,” you whisper meekly. “We–”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” His voice is raw, edge melting away. “Union or no union. It’s always going to be you and me.” 

neng © 2023

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul , @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon 

[eiwasuli]

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

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