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s3ggsypiranha · 3 months ago
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mean streak ⁽ˢᵉʳᶦᵉˢ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶦˢᵗ⁾
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⚝ neteyam sully x fem!metkayina reader
i.
⚝ to spend more time with his girlfriend, a lovesick lo'ak contracts his older brother to distract and romance you, tsireya's rough-around-the-edges, protective older sister. unfortunately for neteyam, you were determined to make this as difficult as possible.
ii.
⚝ you were a cruel mistress and a beguiling puzzle. as a favour for his little brother, neteyam trades some more of his dignity to pick your brain. just who were you exactly?
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zon't be shy, give us a holler if you're interested in being a part of the taglist <3
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s3ggsypiranha · 3 months ago
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mean streak (pt. 2)
synopsis you were a cruel mistress and a beguiling puzzle. as a favour for his little brother, neteyam trades some more of his dignity to pick your brain. just who were you exactly?
⚝ neteyam sully x fem!metkayina reader
⚝ tags: fluff for masochists, metkayina family bonding fr, tonowari moment, neteyam is down bad but denial is a river by doechii, if you hadn’t guessed it alrdy, reader is na’vi-fied kat stratford
⚝ wc: 3.8k | a/n: im loving all the love for mean streak pt 1, you guys are the goat fr, internet hugs for everyone 🫶🫶 this took so long but i had so much fun churning this out :>
⚝ taglist: @rafslytherin @slipup0567 @carolineesnell @21-princess @emilymikado @sg-obsessedfreak @yumimak @anonymjuni @ginsenqi @lxon-kxnnedy @tireyun @sasluvscats @y2unagiz @jailbby @eliankm @erenjaegerwifee @tsumuus @xoxotuti @ashrocker123 @laurenow87 @trees-are-books @moradogreen @levi-09
⚝ glossary: sa'nu - mum, mommy | tìmuntxa - mating, marriage | pxazang - akula (shark-like Pandoran creature) | 'tsmuke'tsyip - little sister | 'eveng - child | iknimaya - stairway to heaven, the rite of passage for young na'vi
⚝ series masterlist
(ps. pls don't repost, im absolutely fine w reblogs)
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You weren't always horrid.
Believe it or not, there was a time you walked around sporting the skin of a much more idealistic, people-oriented person. Strangers saw you as a friendly face, acquaintances thought you were amiable, and close companions knew you as an honest, real friend. Things were good. You had it all going for you.
Until you got fed up.
At least, that was the general word around Awa'atlu.
All that was known was that something in your demeanor had shifted shortly after your appointment as the clan's tsakarem. But only you could know the truth behind this sudden personality transplant. And why, one day, you vowed that people simply sucked and you were the only person who could truly understand yourself, shedding the flesh of amiability to become a jaded creature.
Otherwise known as a heinous bitch, as Ao'nung so delicately put it at the breakfast table.
"You're funny," you laughed before pinching his ear, "Go on, say it again-"
"Sa'nu, she's doing it again!"
"Unhand your brother at once," your mother requested without conviction.
Ronal sighed with a squeeze of her temple, "It is too early in the day for all this foolishness."
Tsireya tilted her head, reason glinting in her eyes. Be nice, you know it is a trying time for mother.
In all honesty, she, too, was aware of your brother's susceptibility to merit a justified ass-kicking. Not that you were any better with your acerbic tendencies.
You raised a brow innocently. I am nice… on occasion.
You let go of Ao'nung's purpled ear. He cradled it, bitterly sticking his tongue out at you.
"Charming, little brother, charming."
"I am surprised you even know what charm is, being our village beast and all."
You raised a blunt knife at him, stabbing your cooked fish with the pointy end as you mercilessly de-boned the already dead animal, head to tail. This only served to prove his point.
"You're lucky we share blood or I would have finished the job your umbilical cord failed to do."
"Guys!" Tsireya piped.
Contrary to what you had said, you thought Ao'nung was a cute baby when you saw him fresh as morning dew from your mother's womb for the first time. Babbling was adorable on him as an infant. As a teenage boy, not so much. Regardless, you would kill for that boy.
"Children, I wish to speak with your sister," Ronal professed, shooing your siblings out of the room.
Ao'nung took the liberty to 'ooh' exaggeratedly. You threw your leftovers at him as he ducked out the marui after your sister. Skxawng.
"Are you quite finished?"
You smiled modestly. "Sorry, mother, what was it you wished to discuss?"
Ronal watched as you shoved fillet into your mouth between words.
"As you know, our clan encountered a threat never before seen this past year."
"We Metkayina are pacifists. That was our first brush with war. War with the sky people, no less." She strutted imposingly around you, "As the voice of Eywa in these matters, your father and I intend for it to be the last."
"Of course, with the presence of the newcomers, one cannot be sure. As tsahik, and your father, as olo'eyktan, we believe…"
Dear Eywa, no good ever came about whenever your mother threw around titles in a conversation.
"…that brokering alliances within the clans of the ocean is paramount in securing our safety."
You picked at the skin around your right thumb.
"We have arranged for you to meet with the eligible son of our neighboring reef clan's olo'eykte-"
You peeled it frenetically.
"-to consider as a mate."
It tore, bleeding.
No, no, no...
"No!"
"No?" Ronal echoed, eyes reduced to poisonous slits.
"Tìmuntxa! Sa'nok, really?!" you bounced up.
"Your father and I…"
"Sempul!" you scoffed, pacing, "Oh please, this has you written all over it, mother."
"Selfish child!" She sneered, "You would do well to pay heed for this is larger than you are."
You couldn't bring yourself to look at her.
"Ma'ite, we care for your happiness, we do."
Your eyes, stinging with the saltiness of incoming tears, noted that there was a hole in the weaved wall of your marui. Somebody should fix that.
"But we cannot sit around wishing for peace."
Ronal touched your shoulder gently, much composed now, "Now, you must listen and do your part."
You must listen and do your part.
Tough love, much?
Of course, nothing was kept from your siblings for long. Tsireya pestered you about it, glued to your side like a barnacle during tsahik lessons.
"So, tìmuntxa, huh?" Tsireya bounced her knee, engraving a footprint in the sand as you grinded herbs absentmindedly.
"Yes…tìmuntxa."
"I do not know what to say except, maybe, and that is quite a maybe…"
"Maybe?" you asked.
"It won't be as bad as you make it."
"Me and marriage?" You chortled. "No chance."
Tsireya managed a smile.
"Why do you say so, tsmuke?"
"Have you seen the prospects around here? All unwashed cretins." You deadpanned, wiping sweat off your brow. Less a question, more a general statement.
"I would sooner take my chances with a pxazang."
"Oh, but the poor creature," your sister lamented.
"I know," you smirked, "It hardly seems fair."
Tsireya toyed with a tendril of her curly hair.
"Lo'ak washes," she blurts, "I think."
You gasped, scandalized, throwing a used cloth her way. Tsireya was quick to catch it, her fit of giggles growing into full-fledged laughter that you couldn't help but be infected by.
"I really do not know what you see in that boy, 'Reya."
"That is because you don't see him."
You were taken a bit aback. Tsireya wouldn't make a statement like that from nowhere. And she nods, so genuine and so sure of herself but you doubt. Because that was your job. This is your sister. Your sister who wept for the first fish Ao'nung caught when you were but little children.
"'tsmuke'tsyip," you tutted, "Boys are good fun, they are. But you'll have plenty of time for that when you grow into your own."
Tsireya's ears drooped, feeling sorely misunderstood. "It is not fair-"
"What is not fair?"
The two of you perked up at the sound of the imperial tone that unmistakably belonged to one person.
"We see you, sempul," you chorused.
"Girls," Tonowari eyed you, "I did not recall gossip being a crucial part of your training."
"Of course not-" "Father, we weren't-"
"Great mother, it is not about boys, is it?" Your father crossed his arms accusingly.
You and Tsireya shared a look, confirming his thoughts.
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "I gather it is about that Sully boy?"
Oh, shit, who were you kidding, this man was a walking lie detector.
"If you must know, yes, it was," you spoke up, "Tsireya?"
She grinned nervously at you, sirens flashing in her eyes. What are you doing, he isn't supposed to know, you promised, what ever happened to girl code-
Tsireya held out her hands placatingly, "Please, father, it is not like that at all-"
"What is it like, my child? Eywa forbid, does he intend to court you?" He placed a hand over his mouth as if a most unfathomable thing crossed his mind, "Need I remind you, until you are old enough, we have only a few rules."
Here you go again. This spiel was older than Pandora herself.
"One, no boys," he affirmed. "Two, no courtship."
"-with boys."
"Father!" Tsireya rebutted, hearts in her irises, "Is it not enough that Lo'ak is Toruk Makto's son and a true member of this clan? Has he not proven himself? He is wonderful and- and I like him."
Tonowari broke out into a hearty laugh. Impossibly fast, his smile drops as quickly as he puts it on. You can't shake off the shiver that passes through the both of you.
"No. Or better yet, no courtship for you until your sister enters one."
"Mm, and I intend never to do so," you reinforced, earning a pat on the back from your old man.
Tsireya huffed silently as she trudged away.
You faced your father with a sweet, spoiled smile. "Does this mean I still have to meet with the olo'eykte's son?"
"Ah," Tonowari scratched his head, "Yes, you must."
He never could say no to his mate. It was as if she always held a knife to his jugular. You always figured your father was some breed of masochist for loving her in spite of it.
"But, sempul…"
"You understand how it is with your mother," he reasoned softly, then became firm once more. "Run along now, 'eveng."
You walked away, rendered as indignant as your sister. You wondered where that girl was. Your conversation was hardly over.
Now, it wasn't Tsireya's first experience falling victim to your refusal to let her live her own life. She knew it stemmed from a place of love. A protective, suffocating love that often felt like a comfortable prison, but a prison nonetheless. She longed to love freely without repercussions. No amount of no altered that fact. What did you expect? The heart wants what it wants.
So, predictably, she turned to someone who shared the same plight.
"Lo'ak!"
"Hey," he smiled, accepting her hands shyly with relief, "for a minute there, I thought you weren't gonna show."
"Nonsense." Tsireya regarded him through her lashes, mouth curling into a frown.
"What is wrong, ma'txampay-syulang?"
My ocean flower. Ever the smooth operator. Tsireya couldn't stifle the snicker that passed through her frowning lips.
"It is silly that you still try to call me that."
He placed a hand on his chest, offended, "You know you like it."
She rolled her eyes, pulling away with a chuckle.
"Seriously, do you mind telling me what's wrong?"
Tsireya sighed, "I do not think this," she gestured to the both of them, "is such a good idea."
"Woah, where is this coming from?" Lo'ak fussed, joining her in the water.
"Oh, you know, father," she shrugged, "…and my sister."
"'Course."
"Listen, Lo'ak. I care about you deeply," Tsireya touched his forearm lightly, "It is just that father insists I cannot hang around boys until my sister herself agrees to be courted."
"Hey, let's not stress. How about the 'prospective mate' business with your mom? Any news?"
"It is not that easy. If you knew my sister, you would know that kind of thing won’t stop her," she smiled wryly, "I know it is a stupid rule, but I hope you can understand me."
Lo'ak melted under her gaze, completely captivated until she began to turn away. The absence of Tsireya's bright eyes snapped him back into the present. Not that there were any around but, by Eywa, he'd would throw himself at a thanator if she asked nicely.
"'Reya, wait, that's perfect!" he grinned impishly, tucking a stray hair behind her perked-up ear, "Don't worry your pretty head about it, just leave everything to me."
Perplexed, Tsireya watched her cosmic loverboy splash out onto shore with fierce determination.
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The past evening weighed on Neteyam's soul as he ambled along the village at dawn.
Throughout his life, he had his fair share of occasional shortcomings. Emphasis on occasional. He was, after all, the proclaimed golden child of the family. But never in his fifteen years had he suffered a failure as monumental as his sour interaction with the olo'eyktan's daughter.
You. Cruel, confusing you.
Your rejection simmered in his mind, raising all sorts of thoughts, turning into questions, which turned into insecurities he didn't even know he had.
What wasn't there to like about Neteyam? He was kind, charismatic, inviting, and, at the risk of tooting his own horn, he didn't think he was a bad-looking guy. Looks were inevitable, what with the blessing known as the Sully gene pool. In short, he never had a problem winning people over at the snap of a finger. He was universally adored.
Except by one.
In all fairness, you weren't known to make exceptions. Though, it didn't exactly even the playing field when it came to all this courting business.
That's right. Just when Neteyam thought the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, Lo'ak's antics reached a new low with a lovely new development from within enemy lines.
"Get this, Tonowari's a complete psycho. The guy just won't let Tsireya date."
"Bummer, baby bro," Neteyam shrugged, feigning despair, "I guess we've got no choice but to fall back..."
"Uh-uh, let me finish."
"Don't tell me there's a catch."
"Oh, there's a catch alright," Lo'ak wagered with a conniving smirk, "Tsireya can't date unless big sis, over here, does. That's where you come in."
Easier said than done. How the hell was anybody going to manage that? Least of all, him?
Lo'ak suggested feeding him hackneyed pickup lines through comms, which Neteyam concluded was an absurd idea. To say that would never work was an understatement. He could talk to girls, for Eywa's sake. Although, with every hour that passed since his fumble, you appeared more like an impenetrable fortress than a cute girl.
He'd never admit that out loud. The last part, anyway.
In the haze of his introspection, he didn't even realize that he was bound for a collision course into a poor person.
Oh, shit. Talk about a sign from the cosmos.
Neteyam shook his head in realization, braids rebounding. "Oh, sorry."
You rolled your eyes without so much as a greeting, heading from point A to somewhere.
"So," Neteyam followed suit, feet on autopilot as he pursued you, "bumping into people now, huh?"
"That's one way to get a guy's attention," he remarked.
"Ah, it is my only purpose in life," you sing-songed, "but, obviously, I seem to have summoned you here so I guess I can say I have succeeded. The world is right again."
He chuckled girlishly. Now, this. This was jarring. Here was a persistent Neteyam Sully by your side, helping himself to a giggle at what you had to say. The solar system had to be out of balance.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Not that it is any of your business," you picked up your pace, "but early morning training."
"No way, I'm headed there too!"
You had to scoff.
"Don't you have a tree to climb or something? A bush you can scamper off into?"
"First of all, offensive," he counted, "And second, I happen to really like training. It's good for the body."
Annoyingly enough, it was true. Neteyam tapped his heart, a few inches away from which a healed scar sat. You looked away abruptly as if your eyes were singed.
"I am not begging for your forgiveness, by the way, if that was what you were asking," you ran a hand through your curls with a snort. Neteyam had to buy himself a glance, even the tiniest one, but before he knew it you had dashed for the training compound.
Not even a few minutes in and you were so desperate to get away. Neteyam waded through a sea of young fighters to reconnect with you. You had taken to abusing a bag of sand, no doubt releasing some pent-up frustration through your fists. He tilted his head with a smile, chin leisurely rested in his hand.
You halted, eyeing him up and down. His amusement was a stranger to you and, honestly, you had to stave off the discomfort tingling in your skin from the way he stared.
Neteyam caught a blade you tossed his way.
"Okay, I get it," he raised an alarmed hand, "Early morning assassination attempt, very cool."
"Do not flatter yourself," you suppressed a chortle, "It is blunt."
He raised a brow as you assumed fighting stance, beckoning him over.
"If you plan to just stand there like an idiot, I don't suppose you would like to at least be a useful idiot."
"Of course," Neteyam obliged with a grin, swinging the weapon in his nimble hands.
You swung your knife with a lunge, movements aggressive as you worked on disarming him. He was quick to counter your attacks, blocking your attempts at every turn. Although Neteyam could beat you in a heartbeat, he settled for the back-and-forth you had eased into. He found himself savoring the image of you, all fierce-eyed, with tightly-knit brows and flared nostrils, indignant huffs escaping your lips now and again.
It was kind of endearing.
"Alright, forest boy," you conceded, "That's enough."
After a while, you accepted you couldn't beat him out of this stalemate.
"Seriously?" Neteyam watched, intent, as you curled indignantly into a ball on the sand, panting. "I didn't expect you to go down without a fight."
"Well, I am not invincible and, besides," you had to admit, though, with a begrudging eye-roll to maintain some semblance of animosity, "The way you fight... you are good."
Neteyam couldn't believe what he was hearing. You thought he was good. And then he began to smile, rather stupidly.
"Could it be that the fierce tsakarem of the Metkayina is actually being nice to me?" He reached out his arm, "There's a chance I'm still asleep, you'll have to pinch me."
"Is that-" you stood, eyes widened in mock horror, "Did your head just double in size?"
He clicked his tongue, "You know what you said."
You narrowed said eyes. Neteyam raised his hands appeasingly, suddenly struck by the image of Ronal ushering them back home after asking your clan for uturu.
"You know," He fiddled with the handle of his blade, "You're not so bad yourself."
Neteyam could have sworn he incited a smile. But it was gone as quick as he saw it, like one of those rare shells Tuk sought after then always complained when they washed away too fast for her liking.
You shook your head, unimpressed, as you brushed past him to retrieve some weapon.
His eyes traced an intricate path of ink along your forearm, a formidable symbol of your bygone iknimaya. It must have been quite the undertaking. He put it on the table after his family's arrival in your village, a time when he tried to acclimatize to your ways as fast as possible, pull his weight in clan duties to win the good faith of your people, become true Metkayina in their eyes.
At least then, Ao'nung would have the good sense not to pull on his tail all the damn time. Perhaps there would be a tiny chance that even you would take him seriously.
Praise Eywa, that was it.
"You fight well," he pressed on. "I think you've got all the right instincts."
"But I guess your technique could use a bit of work," he shrugged.
You raised an accusatory brow.
"Don't get me wrong, I mean- I trained a fair share of young warriors back home-"
"Your point?"
Boy, he'd gone and done it now. He just had to criticize. You must have been pissed off. Any chance of his plan to get you to warm up to him was near to being snuffed out at this point.
"Point being, if you ever needed help brushing up on your skills. I know somebody who would be into that."
His hand took a sudden interest in scratching his nape. Neteyam fully expected you to lecture him, disparage him, just something.
"Oh-kay," you stretched your arms, apparently unfazed, "Thanks for the offer."
"You're welcome?" he shrieked then cleared his throat, "Yeah, you're welcome."
A beat of silence burned his nervous ears.
"I am sensing there's more, though," you observed, looking down at him. "Am I right?"
"Busted," he yielded.
"Out with it then," you hassled.
He raised his heels up and down.
"Well, our brothers are undergoing their iknimaya in a few weeks," he began, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip, "And I plan to join them."
You yawned.
"Though, the truth is, I do not exactly know what I am getting myself into so I thought I would uh- enlist your help?"
"What?" you rubbed your face, "I thought you achieved iknimaya back home."
"I have," his tail wagged aimlessly. "But this is a different case. Different clan. It hasn't exactly been easy to belong all this time so this is important to me, in a way."
You removed the hand shielding your eyes, disarmed by this sudden display of vulnerability.
"Okay," you snorted. "Of all people, why ask me?"
"Word of mouth," he smiled submissively. "According to legend, you have a bit of a reputation for being one of the best."
You raised both brows. Neteyam noted that the apples of your cheeks slightly purpled at the mention of your past prowess.
You crossed your arms, chuckling insidiously. "What makes you think I would even want to help you?"
He shook his head with a growing smirk.
"I am not convinced you're as mean as they say you are."
Your face contorted in disbelief.
"Incorrect," you scoffed. "And I am not interested."
"Come on- at least think about it, I'd be hopeless without you-"
"You see, I just cannot bring myself to care."
Neteyam bit his lip, scanning you for a second, before heaving a sigh.
"Nevermind, you're probably busy all the time." he resigned, "I am sorry for asking, thanks anyways."
You watched coldly as he began to lug himself away, head hung low. What a skxawng. Only a fool would expect you to go out of your way for the sake of altruism. It was the right call. You hardly had the time, always preoccupied by some pressing matter or other. In what world would you sacrifice yourself in an act of goodwill?
You tapped your foot frantically as he gradually came out of view.
Your mind seemed to want you to stay put, but it was as if your cursed feet had other plans, sweeping you towards the direction in which he had disappeared.
Eywa help you for what you deigned to do next.
"Neteyam!"
He came to a halt halfway across the beach. You jogged up to face him.
"Okay."
"Okay, what?" Neteyam looked at you expectantly.
You exhaled harshly.
"I'll... help you."
"You will?"
You blinked, groaning inwardly.
"Yes..."
He exaggeratedly fell to his knees. "Oh, thank you, Great Mother, thank you."
"Get up," you chided. "I will help you but it won't be easy. I will not be easy on you."
Neteyam rejoiced, shit-eating canines making an appearance as he beamed at you.
"I expect nothing less."
You walked onwards.
"We will train at dawn so I expect your mornings for the rest of this week to be free."
"Copy that," he saluted.
You creased your brows, surmising it must have been some kind of strange sky people-speak.
"You will not, under any circumstances, be late."
He muttered a meagre, "Uh-huh."
"I am serious," you insisted, "Otherwise, I won't bother-"
"Okay, okay- I think I got the message."
"Good."
You started to walk onwards, briskly nudging his shoulder.
"I look forward to it," he hollered.
You turned around with an unamused glare.
"And don't be cute about it."
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s3ggsypiranha · 4 months ago
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thank you for blessing us with scary older sister reader paired with neteyam
Sigh id like to imagine of they eventually got close they’d be quite sappy behind closed doors
LOVE YOU FOR THIS anon
since jake and neytiri, i just feel like we've been starved of strong dominant female and simp male action
stuff is currently being brewed but you imagine correctly ;)
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s3ggsypiranha · 4 months ago
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Watching the Detectives (2007) dir. Paul Soter
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s3ggsypiranha · 4 months ago
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mean streak (pt. 1)
synopsis to spend more time with his girlfriend, a lovesick lo'ak contracts his older brother to distract and romance you, tsireya's rough-around-the-edges, protective older sister. unfortunately for neteyam, you were determined to make this as difficult as possible.
⚝ neteyam sully x fem!metkayina reader
⚝ tags: set months after atwow, let's pretend neteyam survived ahahahahaha 😐 neteyam & reader are both kids (think 15 - 16ish), sibling stuff > romance in this ch, KING ROXTO 4 president, lo'ak simping for our girl 'reya, everyone's so introspective up in here, mean/irreverent reader, mild swearing. earth 2 neteyam girlies, it's 2025, are we still alive?
⚝ wc: 2.2k | a/n: i'm so happy to hyperfixate on avatar again yayuhhh. i'm gonna be so fr i don't have a timeframe for when the next parts come out but we will finish one day 👹 shit gets corny asf and ooc real fast but if you like that, do be seated, buckle up and enjoy the ride pookies <3
⚝ series masterlist
(ps. don't repost, im absolutely fine w reblogs)
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Love sucked at Lo’ak’s mind, all mosquito-like. He sat at the edge of the festivities on a patch of sand littered with trees he claimed as his own once the crowd died down, which, much to his displeasure, amplified the growing noise of his encroaching thoughts. 
This barely plausible, esoteric thing worked for his dad, somehow, who stood by Neytiri, his eternal partner in crime. The very image of unconventional romance. A picture-perfect painting the boy couldn’t help but adore and, as befitting a lovestruck teenager, regard as such a high example of how it could be. Love.
His eyes landed on her and he racked his brain for an answer to the age-old question. How to get the girl? It seemed almost impossible.
Tsireya dawdled by the fire, donning a pearly white grin to those fortunate enough to be graced by her presence. Tsireya, Tsireya, Tsireya. Her name was a dreamlike symphony echoing through his whole being. Some suitor or other wished her a 'most auspicious name day' followed up by a mother of pearl-laden monstrosity of sorts he deduced meant to be a present. What a meathead.
Lo'ak flinched at the feel of hands squeezing at his shoulders as if harbouring the secret location of Eywa's hidden treasure. 
"Baby bro!" 
He mustered a tight-lipped scrunch. Neteyam grimaced at this lack of reaction but, determined to flip his brother's mood, shrugged it off and chose to invade enemy territory. 
"Alright, move over, skxawng," he plopped himself down next to his now ponderous sibling, making himself at home and taking extra care to sigh obnoxiously. Neteyam grinned at him, shit-eatingly so.
Lo'ak blinked, unimpressed, and his eyes assumed their initial position. In his periphery, his older brother tilted his head with an expression Lo'ak thought similar to that which Norm reserved for examining weird petri dishes in the lab. 
"OK, I'll bite. What is wrong with you?" 
Receiving so much as a shrug and a grunt, Neteyam followed his brother's line of vision. Ah... 
He chuckled, "trouble with the missus?" 
"Dude-"
"Just saying, you're beginning to look like a palulukan in heat." 
"Man, I swear-"
Neteyam raised pacifying hands. 
"Looks like this is more serious than I thought. So, the way I see it, you ought to tell big bro what is running through that head of yours.” He tapped Lo'ak's temple in emphasis, which his little brother returned with a murderous side-eye. 
"Speak now or forever hold your peace."
Lo'ak's ears twitched in indecision.
"Okay..." he caved and gathered the right words. "So, I like... Tsireya."
Neteyam held onto his brother's shoulder in faux shock, "No?!"
"C'mon, do you wanna listen or not!"
"Sorry, sorry, floor's yours."
Lo'ak rolled his eyes, "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted." Neteyam clutched his chest in exaggerated pain.
"I like Tsireya, like really like her. And I think she likes me back."
"That's great, bro, can you get to the part where you're having a problem?"
"I'm getting there," Feeling courageous enough to turn fully, Lo'ak faced his brother. "We've been hanging out a lot and I feel like we've really got something. I mean, she sees into me, I see into her."
Neteyam smiled, "Uh-oh, 'but' incoming?"
"But there's a bit of an issue." Lo'ak motioned his head subtly to Tsireya's spot by the fire. "Don't look now but-" 
Neteyam looked at the two girls sitting across from them. There you were in all your imposing glory, fiddling with the ends of your sister's curls as you allowed her to drone. He let his sights rest a little longer but, possessing some eerie sixth-sense, you picked up on unwanted eyes locked onto your face, turquoise hues smelting his golden gaze.
He looked up at the stars, a tree, then his brother. Whew. 
"Do you see what I mean?"
"Huh?"
Lo'ak snapped him back to reality. "Hello? The sister?"
"Ah, the sister."
"She's freaking everywhere," Lo'ak leaned back in resignation, "I can't even get in two seconds with Tsireya before she goes bat-shit."
Neteyam gave him an amused shake of the head. 
"Oh, this is funny to you? I'm being personally victimized by Tsireya's sister and you're laughing?"
"I dunno what to tell you, man. She's um-" Neteyam shivered animatedly as he watched you slap Ao'nung on the arm provoked by something he'd said. "She's terrifying. But don't take it personally," he patted his little brother on the back.
"Gee, thanks, that's really helpful," Lo'ak wormed away the reassuring touch.
"Dude, this is a well-known fact. Ask anyone," Neteyam surveyed the general vicinity and whistled for Roxto. The boy in question pointed to himself in confirmation and approached, juggling fruit in his hands. 
"Hey, guys. Can I tempt you to some yovo? It's really goo-" 
"That's nice, Roxto," Neteyam interrupted. "Hey, so, what do you think of you know?" He gestured to your spot.
Roxto paled, looking around him before asking in a hushed tone, "Is this some kind of a test?"
"Exactly," Neteyam nudged his brother.
"You know something, up until tonight, I have never seen a na'vi eat that much fish," Roxto noted. The three observed the manner in which you, for lack of a better word, horked down your umpteenth piece of roasted seafood. 
"I don't know if I should be scared or amazed. Maybe both," Roxto began to back away cautiously from the two brothers. 
"Great," Lo'ak sighed, "so it's public opinion that my girlfriend's sister's a piece of work." He raised his head helplessly to the heavens, on the brink of surrendering his frail soul to Eywa's loving arms. 
"I just wish there was some way to ward off the guard dog," Lo'ak stabbed at the sand with an incensed finger. Neteyam could only watch as his brother despaired. He'd never seen him in a lovesick slump quite like this.
Lo'ak willed his neurons to fire. He's the son of Toruk Makto, for Eywa's sake, he could be intelligent when he needed to be. How the hell do I crack this? You were a well-rounded individual. Smart and attractive, not a troll by definition, as per mentioned by his father in distant bedtime tales of sky folk. He could think of a million names belonging to suitors falling at the feet of the Metkayinan tsakarem across Awa'atlu. Sure, you could be abrasive. The mean streak you wore like a badge was old news within the village. 
He watched Tonowari ruffle your hair in the distance. You loved your family. Tsireya idolized you. He recalled how she admired your 'way of moving through the world.' And he thought, yeah, you could call it that. Moving through the world. Or, rather, against it. You always did seem to be at odds with everything, taking solace in your own company at the end of each day. What was wrong with you? Didn't you have any hobbies? You didn't seem to have a life outside of keeping your siblings in line.
Wait a minute. He looked at his brother, then shifted his eyes back to you, his brother, then you. 
It dawned on him. Shit, he was a genius.
"'Teyam, I feel bad for her." 
"For the guard dog? Why?"
"Ever noticed any friends? Boyfriend? Pet?"
"The answer would be no, big brother,” Lo'ak scratched his head innocently. “It's simple. She's got no life so she compensates by keeping her siblings on a leash."
“Huh.” 
Neteyam raised a brow and wondered deep down if he acted like this. More often than not, it felt like every day revolved around keeping everybody's asses in check. 
"Maybe her life wouldn't be so damn boring if she had something to look forward to every now and again."
Neteyam took the bait, "What are you getting at, smart guy?" 
Lo'ak, rather uncharacteristically, smiled sweetly, emulating little Tuk whenever she pressed Kiri for playtime. Four-fingered hands touched fingertips as he proposed, "How would you like to do me a favour?"
This wasn't gonna be good.
"I'm thinking you hang around Tsireya’s sister, woo her a little bit, get the mighty warrior some actio-"
"Absolutely not."
"C'mon, I'm not saying mate with her, just do your signature sweet-talk, take up some of her time..."
"You don't understand what you're asking," Neteyam laughed incredulously, "I took a bullet for that girl and all I got was a skxawng instead of a nice ‘thank you.’"
"I mean," his brother shrugged, "it was pretty stupid."
"I almost died!" he squawked.
"Past is past, man, and today, you're my only hope," Lo'ak implored, glassy-eyed, "it's rough out here!"
"Eh... not my problem, pipsqueak."
"I'll do your chores for a month."
"Yeah? I've got a feeling you won't-"
"Two months!" Lo'ak closed his eyes. It was worth it, he thought, overstimulating on thoughts of Tsireya's bubbly laughter to outweigh the prospect of having to scoop up ikran shit for the next few eclipses. He opened an eye to see Neteyam turning to leave. "And a week in advance!"
That piqued his brother's interest.
"...keep talking."
"All I ask is that you keep her preoccupied," Neteyam sat down. Lo'ak took this as a sign that he reeled him in, "and that can look however you want it to look like. Romance her, befriend her, I don't care. Just, please, would you buy me a little time?"
Neteyam heaved a sigh. "Even if I wanted to help you,” he rubbed his face, “this is just plain wrong and, not to mention, stupid." 
What was Lo'ak thinking? His brother started to sound uncannily like their dad, a true reflection of young Jake carving his heart out as an offering to the olo'eyktan's daughter. Albeit being a walking safety-hazard, you were a real person with real feelings not built for tampering with. Anybody deserved better than that. You deserved better than that and, besides, Neteyam would not be taking his chances against Tonowari should things go south. Not today. No, sir.
"Okay... I guess you're right," Lo'ak nodded.
"I am?" 
"Sure, man," Lo'ak stood up, "which is why I'll ask my good friend Roxto to do it-"
"Boy, sit back down," Neteyam yanked him by the tail. 
"Y-ouch, bro, totally uncalled for-" Lo'ak planted himself on the ground, tail keeping a world of distance away from his brother's hands.
"You ready to talk terms?"
Neteyam allowed himself one last look at you, your scowl, your confronting stance made more menacing by an air of defiance, and your... hair. You had nice hair, okay? He was prepared to die on that hill. You were not somebody to be messed with. Woe betide those daring enough to disturb the terrifying tranquility you constructed to a tee. How you tirelessly subverted expectation after expectation as your mother's successor, he would never fully comprehend, as previously being born into clan royalty himself. But it was something he respected, bordering on admired, about you. And this was a fact Neteyam was wary to admit to for some strange reason. He couldn't pinpoint it if he tried, always running through his mind too fast for his liking. It was confusing, consuming even. When it came to thinking of you, he was always left in shambles. 
Which is why he couldn't have prepared himself for the chilling clarity that accompanied his next answer.
"Fine."
Surely, something was in the air. Something, just something must have puppeteered him into complying because he was so sure the moral high ground would have won this fight today.
"That's the spirit!" Lo'ak whooped in delight, transporting Neteyam back to the moment Norm allowed them chocolate for the first time. 
"But I want a fortnight in advance.”
Neteyam watched Lo'ak descend into space, making the necessary calculations in his mind, "Unless, of course, you change your mind-"
"You have yourself a deal." 
They shook on it, comically, and Neteyam leaned in to whisper lowly, "And if I ever feel like she's gonna get hurt, well, I'm obligated to tell the truth."
"I'm obligated to tell the truth- whatever, man," Lo'ak pushed his shoulder, "Also, ever heard of this thing called a bath? I'm catching a stench..."
"Hey, if I were you, I'd be a little nicer to your salvation," Neteyam mussed up his brother's braids.
"Mind-" Lo'ak slapped his hand away, fixing his prized locs, "the hair."
"Go and get me some water, little brother," he casually tossed him a bowl. Neteyam straightened his spine, flexing intertwined fingers in a stretch, "Let's see how the mighty warrior gets business done around here."
Lo'ak scoffed, muttering a quaint dumbass under his breath as he watched his older brother break into a saunter, moreso a moonwalk, in your direction. 
With bated breath, Neteyam slid next to you on the boulder you occupied. Your eyes widened at the intrusion, pupils dangerously teetering to your right where he was. 
He mustered his most gentlemanly greeting. Chivalry itself shivered at this display of charisma.
“Hey.”
You shifted to the left. 
"What do you want?" 
Neteyam felt small before your violent scrutiny and he smiled an antsy smile.
"Uhm, I was just wondering if you ever wanted to-"
"No."
"You didn’t even let me finish-"
You raised a finger.
"So, you're saying there's no chance we could-"
You wagged it.
"Uh-uh."
Neteyam hung his head, "are you sure though-"
"For the last time, tree boy," you smiled sadistically, professing a loud, “NO.”
You sent him away with a regal wave of your hand. 
"Okay… good talk," Neteyam left your side, in a slumpier manner than when he joined it. 
"Hey, buddy. I saw you out there," Lo'ak winced, rushing to his aid with a bowl of water, "Not too shabby for a first try, eh, mighty warrior?”
"I don't want to talk about it."
Neteyam drank the pity water, replaying the moment in his head. 
“Yeah...” Lo'ak clapped the frowning, despondent thing that was once his brother on the back. 
"I've got some notes."
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(queens, im making a taglist 4 those interested, just don't be shy and holla at yo gurl <3)
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s3ggsypiranha · 4 months ago
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i'm a lonely painter, i live in a box of paints . . .
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꩜⚝⋆˙ celeste. 17. she/her. full-time human in the streets, fanfic writer in the sheets. now playing... ⚝⋆。꩜°‧★
⚝ masterlist (currently crickets having a sleepover up in there)
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