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nyctophicbtch · 1 year

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Outsiders - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader ]

Summary: Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,033

Just as expected, there were no particular signs of interest your siblings found in you when Omatikayas showed up on the shore, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious upon their arrival.

“She will show up.” You faintly heard Rotxo quietly say to Ao’nung as you approached the commotion.

A glimpse of your father and mother speaking to an Olo'eyktan had you pushing through the crowd to get a better view. You could see your sister already examining the outsiders alongside your brother, being fairly kinder than he was.

“See,” remarked Rotxo as he spotted you making your way over to them.

Their banter over you was not uncommon. It never bothered you and you could care less with what they were whispering about now when you knew they had no ill intentions. Instead, you shifted your attention to the family standing before you and eyed each of them individually.

The littlest one was hiding behind her mother’s leg, the other girl looked exhausted and the younger boy had his eyes glancing at your sister too often to your annoyance.

You glanced at the eldest just as he did too, noticing you for the first time. The corners of his lips curved upwards to form a subtle smile in an attempt to seem friendly, which others might have missed but your brothers didn’t.

It wasn’t the smartest friendly attempt, considering how it only deepened the distaste of your brother into sneers and scowls.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to take interest in you,” whispered Ao’nung, though he didn’t seem pleased to know that. “You’re alluring. Stay away.”

“I won’t even do anything!”

“Exactly.”

“Shh,” interrupted Tsireya.

You shot a glare towards your brother in annoyance. He knew you wouldn’t even be interested in seeing them, let alone talking to them, yet somehow he was so sure that they’d approach you on their own

“They won’t even care, Ao’nung.” You had been so busy furiously thinking of arguments against your brother that the call of your name spooked you.

“They will teach you our ways,” your father said, earning immediate complaints from your brother whilst Tsireya obliged and wasted no time in leading the guests.

There was no doubt that your sister could handle them, and your siblings wouldn’t expect you to be interested in teaching them either. And they weren’t wrong. You’d prefer entertaining the kids running around the sand than guiding them.

“Where’s your other sister?” asked Kiri when she noticed your absence.

Neteyam hung back with Lo’ak as their parents busied themselves gazing at the village. The place still felt foreign to them, and even more so when they knew they’d be staying here.

“Doing something else. She’s not used to outsiders.” Tsireya did not stop to reply, the words coming off her tongue as if she had practiced it a thousand times.

Lo’ak raised his brows at the mention of another sister. He was too caught up fuming at Rotxo and Ao’nung to even notice you, but he doubted any of them were used to outsiders either.

“The quiet one.” Neteyam replied to his unspoken question. “The interesting one.”

“Go anywhere near her and we’ll tie you up with your baby tail.”

“Relax, she’s all yours.” Neteyam held his hands up in defense. He didn’t understand why they were getting so defensive over you although he barely even looked your way. Lo’ak was ogling at Tsireya and they didn’t seem too bothered.

Something was off about you, especially when you’d so rarely make yourself visible to any of them for days. He would’ve expected the daughter of the Olo'eyktan to be difficult to miss, especially when they all expected you to help teach them the Metkayina ways. And to be truthful, you just enjoyed doing your own thing that does not involve the outsiders.

“Father’s expecting all of us to join them.” Your annoyance was clearly visible. You weren’t even needed. They could handle this on their own without you, and your father knew that.

“Fine.”

You left them alone for two minutes and somehow they were already taunting each other when you came back. Your sister was called to help mother, much to your dismay, and you were putting back the saddles of the ilu.

“Lo’ak,” you heard Neteyam warn as you returned to the group behind Ao’nung, giving some distance.

When Lo’ak approached and flexed his fingers around, you knew what was coming before the punch actually landed on your brother’s face.

“Rotxo, stop!” you yelled, pulling him back by his hand. He shook you off easily, dismissing your warnings.

You looked to Neteyam who sighed, as if he’d witness this too many times. The older brother easily beat up Ao’nung and his friends in Lo’ak’s defense, scolding Lo’ak afterwards.

“Come on,” Ao’nung waited expectantly for you to follow them. He sensed your hesitance and saw the way your eyes roamed back and forth between them and the Omatikayas, and finally decided to leave without you.

“In my defense, you got to show off in front of her,” said Lo’ak groggily, nodding to you.

“Excuse my brother and his unrefined mouth.” Neteyam received a weak punch for that and the tiniest smile from you. He didn’t comprehend why, but Neteyam smiled at your amusement and from then, the annoyance you felt from having to teach them disappeared. Just slightly.

“Do I have to face dad?”

“Yes. Until then keep out of trouble. I mean it Lo’ak.”

It was safe to say Neteyam was impressed that his brother managed to not utter a single provoking word until he had to face their father.

“Hey.” Neteyam spun to the sound of your voice. It was nearly sundown and you were standing outside his room. “Sorry about my brother and his friends. I can still teach you how to control your breathing if you’d like.”

The mindful part of him knew he should go find his brother who hadn’t been visible for a long while, but the selfish part of him allowed his interests to take over. And this time, he allowed something for himself for once. Besides, Lo’ak should stay out of trouble after his last encounter with dad.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You nodded towards the shore and Neteyam jumped off his marui to follow you. It took great effort to avoid bumping into any of the children running around and splashing water.

“The secret to increasing your lungs’ limit is to slow your breathing and allow them to slowly adapt,” you said, pushing him back by the chest with both hands so that he sat down.

“Breathe from here.” You were only showing him parts of his chest and abdomen, but he couldn’t help the increasing pace of his heart as your hands felt around his chest. His eyes locked on your face the entire time in an attempt to focus on what you were saying, but the words that came out from your mouth sounded foreign to his brain.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You frowned. “Slow down.”

Neteyam nodded, but when you felt his heart keep its frantic pace, you sighed and removed your hands from his chest.

“We’ll try this again tomorrow with my sister.”

Neteyam did the one thing Ao’nung told him not to do. He found himself coming up with excuses to see you and he was just about subtle enough that even Tuk noticed.

“I just made peace. This time I think you’re going to be the one to mess things up.”

“I’m not doing anything.” They both knew it was a lie and Neteyam was fully aware of that.

“Can you show the way to our marui? They all look the same,” Lo’ak mockingly mimicked the conversation he overheard between you and his brother yesterday. Lo’ak was basking in his enjoyment.

It was something unlikely of Neteyam and something expected of Lo’ak, which made the whole situation even more amusing to the younger brother.

“Ow.” Lo’ak swatted away the hand that hit him in the back of his head.

“You’re being annoying. Stop.”

“Stop being a wuss and make a move. It’s her birthday.” The look Neteyam gave was out of pure disbelief.

“I’m not you who falls in love with every pretty girl you see.”

“I do not do that.”

“Yes you do. Now go annoy someone else. I’m going to see if mom found our gift.” Neteyam pushed the weight of Lo’ak’s arm away from his shoulder, distancing himself before walking the other direction.

“Actually, you already gave her one.” The words from his brother’s mouth caused Neteyam to freeze in place and turn his head to look at him.

“What?”

“You gave her a pretty sea bouquet with a sweet little note.” If he could, Neteyam would tear the smug look off of his brother’s face.

“Kurkung.” Asshole. “What did the note say?”

“You’re going to have to ask her yourself. She actually shows up when you’re around.”

Happy birthday, tanhì

- Neteyam

You somehow doubted that this was actually from Neteyam. He didn’t seem like the type to show romantic gestures to someone he met only a few weeks ago. You were surprised that he was even interested in you at all and it had you flushing like an idiot.

“What’s got you so smiley?” asked Rotxo, snatching the note from your hand before you could reply.

“Hey!”

“That bastard. I thought mom got you that.” Your brother gestured to the bouquet with a glare. You had no idea why your brother and his friends were so against you and Neteyam. It wasn’t like either of you showed any interest in each other. Well, not until now.

“Lay off, Rotxo. It’s her birthday,” you heard Ao’nung’s voice before he entered the marui and stole the note from Rotxo’s hands. Your brother’s hand ruffled your hair in a way he knew you hated. “Happy birthday, hì’i kxetse.”

Happy birthday, small tail.

You shoved his hand away in annoyance, the glare you sent looking more playful than menacing. The pushes turned into fights and a full race to the waters.

“Guys-“ Rotxo never got to finish what he was saying since the two of you were already running through the poor villagers that minded their own business, occasionally bumping into some of them.

Ao’nung was grinning at his expected victory when you tackled him from behind. The rest of the way was filled with tripping, pulling, and your attempts at kicking him away from you.

You were nearly there. Aonung would often beat you most of the time, but on lucky days, you claimed the victory.

“Woah!” Before you could stop yourself, you slammed into Neteyam, knocking the both of you over to the waters.

Water filled your lungs quicker than you could comprehend and it seemed like Neteyam did the same since he was coughing a fit once the two of you resurfaced.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology in between coughs.

“Looks like lover boy helped you win, little sis.” Ao’nung appeared from behind you. Your brother did nothing, but you hit him on his forehead - which felt like a weak nudge to him - for his mere existence. “I’m gonna fetch Rotxo. I’m still keeping my eye on you, forest boy.”

Once Ao’nung was out of earshot you were quick to approach him and apologize for your brother’s hostility. “Sorry for him. I liked your gift, though. It was lovely.”

Neteyam knew it wasn’t really his gift, but he couldn’t help but play along. Lo’ak was never going to let this go and he knew it. He was “forever in Lo’ak’s debt”.

“It’s alright. Happy birthday again.”

You smiled at Neteyam, leaning in to put a hand on his jaw and he hoped you couldn’t feel the speed of his heartbeat increasing as you gave a peck to his cheek. It was supposed to be him, yet you were the one whose face flushed and quickly swam away to find your ilu.

Lo’ak just found the entire thing amusing.

He raised a brow suggestively as Neteyam spotted him standing by the shoreline, blowing a kiss his way, which was responded with water splashed to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

tanhì [tan.ˈhɪ] n. star, bioluminescent freckle

hì’i [ˈhɪ.ʔi] adj. small, little (in size)

kxetse [ˈk’ɛ.t͡sɛ] n. tail

9K notes · View notes

lanasblood · 11 months

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HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME | neteyam x reader

pairing: neteyam x f!omatikaya!reader (no mentions of y/n)

summary: you remember all of your attempts to make Neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion or the five times you failed to win neteyam’s affection and the one time you succeed.

word count: 10k (!!! damn)

warnings: actually none but let’s say hurt/comfort, reader is a simp, 5+1 prompt, confessing, mutual pining, mention of blood, requited/unrequited love, !!adult neteyam!!, flashbacks to childhood and teenager years

note: inspired by the five love languages and the weeknd’s song mentioned in the title.

* gif‘s not mine.

The soft rustling of the teal leaves falling silently to the ground, as light as an ikran feather, is one of the most soothing sounds heard on the still night. The wind touches them gently, as if caressing them, before whirling them up again in a powerful gust, starting the cycle all over again. The moons stand high in the sky, and the stars sparkle like little gems that can beautify anything. The night is quiet, and the soft breeze seems to calm everything down and lull it into a deep sleep. The bright light of the bioluminescent plants lays gently on the moist meadows, illuminating the darkness. It is like a magical tale, perfect and without blemish. Yet, there is one who can't sleep in this harmonic time: you. With your arms and legs stretched out, you lie on your back, feeling like hours have passed since you started staring at the night sky without moving a muscle. You have even decided to sleep outside your hammock to hear and feel the sound of the wind, hoping to finally sink into the dreamland. But, as you know, this has done little to help.

All because of him. You sigh in annoyance.

For as long as you can remember you've had this crush on the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan, you don't know when you developed it, let alone how it really started. You just know that it might have been cute at first – a nice girl from a small clan who has feelings for the older boy next door, but as time went by, it wasn't cute at all; on the contrary, it robs you of precious sleep and will most likely cause you to age prematurely.

Despite not knowing how and when exactly this crush thing has started, you know that it has gotten worse the more time has passed, and the more time passes, the more failed attempts to get his attention you have behind you. However, there's one event you categorize as time zero - the starting point of your attempts - that you remember vividly:

You were a mere child and couldn't take your eyes off Neteyam, who was only slightly older than you. Confidently clutching the stem of the rare flower you had been searching for days, you made your way through the lush forest, searching for Neteyam. As you thought about the plan you had concocted, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You had heard from a reliable source that Neteyam was a lover of rare flora, and you hoped that this gift would make him see you in a different light.

When you spotted him in the distance, his tall figure was moving gracefully through the trees. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, holding out the flower to him.

"Hey, Neteyam," you said, trying to sound casual. "I found this and I thought you might like it."

Neteyam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. You held out the flower a bit higher, hoping to see a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, slowly taking the flower from your outstretched hand. Looking at the flower now in his hand, the corner of his lips turned upward, causing your heart to flutter.

You told him happily, "It's a very rare flower," beaming a bright smile at him.

And the next thing you knew, you were holding your breath as he bent slightly forward to your height and patted your head in praise, "It seems you're already a careful gatherer, baby neighbor. Keep it up!"

You felt your heart sink faster than a prey could run when he turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there alone in the forest. You had hoped that your gesture would be enough to make him see you in a different light, but it seemed that it had made no difference at all, or even worse for he had called you the worst possible nickname to exist in all na'vihood.

As you made your way back to the village, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment and frustration settling in you, the deep frown on your face mirroring your inner world. You had tried so hard to get Neteyam to notice you, but it seemed that he was simply not interested.

How do I make you love me?

After a few cycles and many more failed attempts in between, you realized that your little crush was not so little after all. Especially after Neteyam passed his Iknimaya at such a young age, your admiration for him grew every day. The feeling was almost unbearable as you found yourself constantly near him but not receiving the acknowledgment you wished for.

That was until one day, you decided to change that because your hormonal teenager brain had this glorious idea to spend some alone time with Neteyam. You had observed that he enjoyed hunting during his free time when he wasn't bound by his duties as the Olo'eyktan's firstborn. This is why you eagerly joined him on his next hunt, determined to impress him with your own hunting and tracking skills. Looking back, you now realize that your confidence may have been misplaced for your skills were basically non-existent at that time, but back then you were convinced that you were able to hunt.

So, you followed Neteyam deep into the forest, crouching right beside him in the underbrush, watching the herd of talioang grazing in the distance. Their blue and orange skin glinted in the sunlight, and you could hear the low rumble of their voices as they communicated with each other.

"Do you thi—" Neteyam's hand swiftly covered your mouth, halting your words before they escaped, his touch gentle yet firm. It was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He motioned for you to be quiet and directed your attention towards the herd. As he removed his hand, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement in your blood. This was your chance to prove yourself.

Neteyam slowly and silently made his way towards the herd, you right on his track, moving from one piece of cover to another. Your eyes followed every movement of the muscles on his toned back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your palms were slick with sweat. Even though you had never really hunted before, you were determined to succeed but Neteyam's captivating presence proved to be a distraction that made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else.

As you got closer to the herd, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam signaled for you to stop, and you froze, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He reached out and brushed a twig aside at your feet.

"Watch your steps," he whispered close to your ear, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced as you realized how close he was to you, and you wondered if he could hear it pounding in your chest. Longing to feel his lips against your skin, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly towards him, but you knew you couldn't let your desire distract you from the hunt.

"I do," you whispered back. Trying to calm your racing heart, you focused on the task at hand, scanning the ground for anything else that might make noise. But when you moved, you felt Neteyam's body shift slightly against yours, sending another jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"No, you constantly step on something," he told you, still whispering, but voice stern.

Feeling caught because there was a high possibility that he was right for you hadn't paid attention to your surroundings in the last couple of minutes, too busy doting on him, you couldn't find arguments to defend yourself, "I do not."

Neteyam firmly pressed his finger on his own lips, signaling you to be quiet yet again. Your heart beat faster as you met his intense gaze, and you felt a rush of desire wash over you.

"Too much noise," he mouthed, his voice barely audible, and looked back at the herd. Following his gaze, you saw that the talioang had picked up on something, and they were starting to look nervous. You and Neteyam held your breaths, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Suddenly, Neteyam gave the signal, and sprang into action. You just weren't really ready when he gave the signal, so with the first step you took, you stumbled on something growing on the ground and fell over with a short cry. Neteyam who had darted towards the nearest talioang, already drawing his bow and arrow, stopped right in his track when he heard you fall. You looked up at him when he quickly turned to you and then back at the herd but it was too late, the animals already reared up in surprise, and scattered in all directions. However, you were too shocked by your fatal mistake to pay them any attention. You were frozen in place, lying in the dirt, watching Neteyam looking back at you with a slightly agape mouth. The blood rushed to your head and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

You ruined it.

Neteyam's disappointment was tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he was angry. You would be, too. Struggling to express your remorse, the words got caught in your throat as you attempted to apologize. The weight of disappointment were heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of letting him down.

After a long, awkward silence, Neteyam turned to you with a deep sigh. "You need to be more careful," he said, "When you're hunting, you have to be aware of everything around you. One mistake can ruin the whole hunt."

You nodded, feeling ashamed, you were sure your face was as purple as a yovo fruit. You had wanted to impress Neteyam, but instead you had embarrassed yourself in front of him, had blown any chance to show him that you were capable.

How do I make you fall for me?

Over time, you learned from your previous mistakes. Wanting to impress him proved to be harder than anticipated, but having a conversation with him was easier than expected. You needed to show him how much you appreciated him for who he was. As a result, you began to pay closer attention to the way he interacted with others, especially his younger brother Lo'ak, and you started to incorporate some of those phrases into your conversations with him.

One bright day, you nervously approached Neteyam, hoping to strike up a conversation with him using your newfound knowledge:

"Hey, Neteyam," you greeted tentatively, "Whatcha doin'?"

You left out the bro on purpose, fearing it would be overkill. Even so, the words coming out of your mouth sounded strange to you, and for him apparently too, as he rapidly looked up from his task upon hearing your voice, and his otherwise neutral face looked at you with a slightly frowned forehead and attentive eyes, studying you for a moment before he was quick to collect himself and greeted you with a slight smile.

"Not much. Tuk asked me to repair this old basket for her," he said, motioning with his hands on the basket between his legs, "And I'm trying."

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, "That's really kind of you. I bet she'll be thrilled once you finish it," you said with a smile.

Neteyam simply hummed in response and went back to his task, his concentration returning.

"I mean, I would, too. Tuk is very lucky, it must be nice to have a brother like you," you complimented him.

"But you do have a brother," Neteyam reminded you matter-of-factly, "We used to attend the same training sessions so many times."

"Yeah," you continued, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But, uh, he is not as skilled as you are." Good save. "And he never did such kind things for me when I was little. The only thing he did was teach me how to fight."

"That's a valuable skill," Neteyam commented.

"Well, what I mean is, he's an ordinary brother, while you are one of a kind, Neteyam. Your siblings are incredibly lucky to have you," you said, emphasizing your point.

Neteyam smiled to himself, his canines slightly showing, as he went back to working on the basket. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the thought of him noticing your flattery.

"I appreciate that," he said, acknowledging your compliment.

After a few minutes of silence, you took a deep breath and you mustered up the courage to ask him a question, "May I say something?"

He looked up at you again and nodded. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You decided to take the chance, "I just wanted to say that you always seem to know just what to do and say, and that's very impressive. You're responsible, always respectful, and very patient. Not just with me but with everyone in our clan. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, Neteyam." I appreciate you.

Neteyam's expression softened as he listened to your words. "You have a kind heart to express that," he replied, a hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.

You took a deep breath and continued, "I know you don't share much about your personal life, but if you ever feel comfortable talking about it I would love to learn more about you."

Neteyam's smile reached his eyes. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

You felt a warm glow of happiness in your chest as you realized that your words affected him. You were willing to put in the work to get to know him better.

Encouraged by his response, you asked, "So, do you have any concrete plans after your Uniltaron?"

Neteyam's expression faltered a bit upon hearing you mention his upcoming Dream Hunt, he seemed almost reserved all of a sudden. "I do have a few, but they are personal," he replied, "I prefer to keep them to myself."

You felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh, I understand," you said, trying to hide your dejection, "I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask."

"You don't have to apologize," he responded, "But some things are best kept within the family."

"Yeah, I get it," you smiled weakly, feeling like you had hit a wall, "Thanks for talking with me, Neteyam."

He nodded and went back to his task, leaving you feeling deflated and uncertain about how to get closer to him.

How do I make you want me?

The previous attempts to win Neteyam's attention had proven unsuccessful: The gifts you gave him didn't have the desired effect, your attempts to impress him by spending time with him backfired (you want to forget that memory of the hunt so badly), and the conversations you had with him remained superficial, never delving deeper into meaningful topics. It was clear that you needed a new approach, a fresh idea to capture his interest which brought you back to point zero.

You walked through the forest, scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the flowers you had been studying for quite some time – the kind you gifted Neteyam when you were little. It turns out that the rare flower wasn't that rare after all, it only bloomed a short time a cycle, which is what made it so valuable. However, if they were dried and powdered, very useful medicines could be made. At some point you had started collecting this flower, as well as other herbs and plants for Tsahìk, and in return she had taught you how to make rich creams and pastes from them. And you could also consume this flower in meals if you let it cook over the fire for a long time. Pondering if it would evoke nostalgia within Neteyam, while you plucked them carefully from the ground, you wondered if he ever remembered the day you gave him that flower in the first place.

Gathering a variety of edible flowers, aromatic herbs, and other nourishing ingredients from the village, you spent all morning helping the women in your clan prepare a wholesome and delicious meal for the warriors. In anticipation of Neteyam's training session, you decided to take this thoughtful approach to show your support and care.

As the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, you volunteered to bring the full basket of handmade food wraps and lovely cut fruits to the training area.

The warriors were engrossed in their practice, their movements fluid and powerful. You scanned the crowd, searching for Neteyam among them.

Spotting him in the midst of the intense training session, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. His movements were powerful and precise, each strike displaying his skill as a warrior. His strength and determination did something to you, feeling a magnetic pull towards him.

Balancing the basket of food in your hands, you approached the outskirts of the training area, careful not to interrupt the warriors' focus. You set up a blanket and arranged the food on it attractively. Your intention was not only to impress Neteyam but to show your support for the entire group.

"I swear, Eywa send you here," you heard someone say next to you, a bit out of breath, while impatient hands reached into the basket and helped you place the food, "I'm starving!"

"Lo'ak, are you allowed to end your training like this?" You questioned, and turned your head in the direction of the warriors — the training was obviously still in full swing, but it was precisely then that you met Neteyam's gaze who was already looking over at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Not really but it smells so good, I'm ready to be skinned for these delici— Oh, I'm taking this one, yeah?" He started unwrapping one of the food wraps and hastily bit into it.

"Hey, wait for the others!" you admonished him, but his wrap was already half eaten.

"Mm, das bom!" you heard him smack loudly, "S'rusly, yur da best."

"I'm glad," you responded, suppressing a laugh. Lo'ak acted like he hadn't eaten in days.

Noticing the spread of food, the warriors collectively ended the training session, and the men started approaching the nourishing dishes, including freshly grilled meats, vibrant vegetables, and flavorful herbs.

Sensing an opportunity, you went towards Neteyam, a food wrap in your hand, and a warm smile gracing your lips. "I thought I would spare you the long way, in case you're starving like your brother," you joked, gesturing with your head towards Lo'ak behind you, who was taking two more food wraps and calling dips on the rawp.

Neteyam's gaze shifted from the feast you had prepared to the food in his hands and then at you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"That's thoughtful of you," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, "It's been an intense training session, and this is a welcome surprise."

You stepped back, allowing him to enjoy the meal with his fellow warriors. Observing from a distance, you noticed the camaraderie and laughter that emerged as they gathered around the spread of food, indulging in the flavors that were carefully crafted.

Throughout the meal, you found yourself drawn to Neteyam's presence. The way he spoke with passion about his experiences, the way he listened attentively to others, and the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden depth — all of it only fueled your growing attraction.

As the training session continued, you lingered nearby, engaging in conversations with other warriors, offering encouragement and companionship. While your initial intention was to impress Neteyam, you found joy in connecting with the community as a whole, so much you almost didn't realize that the day's training had come to an end.

"Thank you for the meal and your company," Neteyam said softly as he walked next to you back to the village, carrying the basket for you with a genuine smile gracing his face. "It meant a lot to all of us."

Your cheeks warmed at his words, "I didn't do much, the others—"

"You are here, that alone is more than enough."

You nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. "I'm glad I could contribute," your voice was filled with sincerity, "Supporting you and the clan is important to me."

A surge of hope welled up inside you, but as the conversation continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Despite your efforts, the romantic tension you had hoped for seemed to elude you. The conversation remained pleasant yet distant, and it became clear that Neteyam saw you more as a friend than a potential partner. With a heavy heart, you realized that your attempt to catch his interest had once again fallen short.

And make it last eternally?

For quite some time now, you have firmly believed that you have left those days behind you, imprisoned in childhood memories, overlapped by numerous teenage embarrassments. After all, now you are an adult with serious duties and commitments to attend to, and there's neither time nor room for such childish infatuations. Crushing on the future Olo'eyktan. Please. Plus, once you found out how many other girls in your clan, both older and younger than you, adored him, you figured it is best to move on. You were frustrated at times, but you resolved to carry on, cherishing the friendship you shared with Neteyam while silently letting go of your unrequited feelings. At least, that's what you thought...

… until three eclipses ago.

Mere moments before the eclipse, the all-too-familiar soft light danced in the room, casting a golden hue that revealed the tiniest pollen floating around inside Tsahìk's crowded tent. It had been a long time since so many people had been injured at once, yet no one was ready to explain or report what had happened.

As two new figures entered the tent, one of them supporting the other, you heard a familiar voice speaking calmly, "Focus on not getting blood all over grandmother's tent rather than worrying about my wounds."

"Nah, I'm just- Ouch! Careful, bro!"

"Sorry, brother, but you have to cooperate with me here," Neteyam uttered while carefully helping Lo'ak onto the mat made of woven grasses that Kiri had prepared for them with blankets.

"I'm just saying—Ahh," Lo'ak hissed as Neteyam applied pressure to his open wound with his bare hands, while Kiri hastily tied together any available cloths for his wound care. "-it's not very mighty of you, you know."

"What is not very mighty of him?" Kiri wanted to know, now taking over and applying pressure to his wound as well to stop the bleeding. As you shifted to Kiri's side, you handed her more cloths that she could wrap around Lo'ak's leg.

"His wounds, of course," Lo'ak grinned when he saw you and gave his older brother another amused sideways glance, before continuing, "but I'm sure he will be in great hands now. Right, bro?"

Just a quick glance at Lo'ak was enough to see that he was far worse off than Neteyam. While his wounds did not appear to be life-threatening, he was bleeding profusely from his thigh.

Tsahìk had already rushed to the four of you, throwing a disapproving look at Lo'ak, "Oh, my boy, let me have a look." With her expertise, she quickly got the situation under control, ordering Kiri to get more cloths while you stood by her side to assist her.

"My child, attend to his wounds," Tsahìk instructed you, but to your surprise she nodded towards Neteyam instead of Lo'ak as she pushed a bowl of fresh water into your hands. "My granddaughter and I can handle this young clumsy man here." Her stern gaze was once again fixed on Lo'ak, who, in turn, only grinned at her.

"Grandmother," Neteyam began soothingly, ready to protest, "there is no need to—" but her piercing eyes silenced him, causing him to follow you wordlessly to the other side of the tent.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in front of Neteyam, tending to his wounds with the gentle touch of your hands, caring for each cut and bruise.

"You need to be more careful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as you wrung the cloth in the water that had already turned a muddy reddish color.

"I'm content with the present circumstances," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. You gave him a sarcastic look, which he reciprocated with a warm smile.

"Well, I suppose then you'll be content with this as well." Pressing the damp cloth into his hand, you stood up and leisurely made your way to Tsahìk's supplies to fetch some healing ointments, and you took your time doing so.

Upon your return, Neteyam watched you attentively, his eyes tracing your every movement, and you wondered if he had been watching you the whole time. There was a newfound curiosity in his gaze, a glimmer of something more.

"My words came out wrong," he said when you sat back on the ground in front of him. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions, a subtle tension hanging between you. "You're right, I should be more careful. I always strive to be. It's just that there's little one can do in the face of an ambush."

"An ambush?" you asked with big eyes, "Oh, Great Mother! That's what everyone's been trying to conceal. And I was wondering the whole time what could've possibly happened to cause so many injuries."

"They probably didn't want to cause an uproar." You listened to his words, sensing the weight they carried. The mention of an ambush brought back memories of past dangers and harrowing encounters. The gravity of their lives was never far from their thoughts, and you understood the weight that rested on Neteyam's shoulders.

"You don't always have to be the strong one, Neteyam," you said softly, voice carrying reassurance, when you continued cleaning the cut on his chest, noticing that he tried not to wince under your touch, "It's alright to lean on others, to let them care for you."

A flicker of emotion danced across his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he regained his composure. His hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest above his heart, the contact gentle yet charged with unspoken emotions.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and in that moment it felt like the boundaries between healer and wounded blurred, "Thank you for being here, for tending to me." His eyes locked with yours, an unspoken promise passing between you, turning your cheeks in a light purply color.

"Now," you cleared your throat with the intention of changing the subject, fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, "here comes the actual healing part."

Gently, you dipped your fingers into the jar of ointment, scooping out a generous amount. With deliberate movements, you applied the soothing balm to his wounds, careful not to cause any further discomfort. The ointment glided smoothly, creating a soothing sensation that seemed to envelop him in a healing embrace.

"What I meant before is that I am glad that you are the one taking care of me," you smiled upon hearing those words, feeling his gaze on you as you concentrated on his upper body. A gentle warmth radiated from his wounds as your fingertips grazed his skin, mingling with the tender touch of your hands. The ointment possessed a subtle fragrance, hinting at the natural remedies it held within.

As you continued to apply the ointment, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his chest, exploring the intricate landscape of his injuries, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythm of your ministrations became a quiet conversation, a wordless understanding of care and compassion. With every gentle caress, a subtle shiver passed through him, a reaction that spoke of both vulnerability and an underlying trust in your touch. There was a closeness in this shared moment, a connection forged through the tender act of healing.

Neteyam's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes revealing a depth of gratitude and something more profound. It was as if the vulnerability of his wounds had peeled away a layer, exposing a vulnerability of the heart. The strength he embodied as a warrior was softened in this vulnerable space, allowing a snippet into the depths of his mind and soul.

"It never stings when you patch me up, why?" Neteyam asked, his voice laced with wonder, tilting his head slightly.

"The secret is to mix yalnabark with 'omsyul," you replied, your voice gentle yet filled with a hint of playfulness.

"Care to share this secret with my grandmother? And Kiri, too?" Neteyam's request was teasing but also genuine, and you couldn't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Actually, Kiri is the one who taught me this," you admitted, a fondness in your voice.

Neteyam's forehead furrowed slightly, "Then why does it always burn when she patches me up?"

With a twinkle in your eyes, you playfully suggested, "Sibling love?"

A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps your touch is blessed by Eywa?" His words hung in the air, filled with a newfound flirtation that took you by surprise.

"Oh, come on now, exaggerate much, do you?" you responded, attempting to brush off his words with a hint of irony, not fully realizing the impact they had on you.

Undeterred by your sarcastic retort, Neteyam looked deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "The caress of your hand weaves a tapestry of enchantment, casting a spell that captivates my very soul."

His words echoed in your mind, resonating with a blend of tender affection and longing. You wished he had said those words when you were younger and so in love with him, meaning every syllable coming from his kissable lips. What you would have given to hear him say it.

A blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The air around you seemed charged with electricity, the tension between you both palpable.

"You said I should exaggerate," Neteyam added, a witty glint in his eyes, as if to remind you of your earlier banter.

Your younger self would have etched his previous words into a tree to make them eternal — words you longed to hear from your crush, words that felt like a dream.

"Crush?" he asked with interest, and your eyes widened with the realization that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. "On whom?"

"Um," a jumble of thoughts flooded your mind at once, too late for an excuse, "You?"

Your confession left him momentarily speechless, and your heart pounded in your chest.

It's in the past, so it's okay to admit it, you told yourself, trying to calm down a bit.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Had," you corrected quickly.

"You had a crush on me?" he asked again, as if needing confirmation. It seemed to sweep him off his feet, a revelation he hadn't expected.

"Everyone did, everyone does," you confessed, trying to downplay the significance.

"Everyone except you?"

You shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I guess I'm… over it."

"Why?" he inquired.

"Come on, Neteyam," you sighed, trying to mask the bitterness in your voice, "don't act like you didn't know."

"I swear by Eywa this is news to me… I have never…" he hesitated briefly with his words, "It doesn't even make sense."

Make sense?

"Don't make me regret telling you," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "It's not about making sense, and it's not a big deal either, don't you agree?"

"Yes, but I try to understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"Why would you even crush on me in the first place?"

Oh.

"You're right," you tightly gripped the cloth, forcing a smile, "why would I."

Even though you reluctantly admitted it, it hurt you and scratched at your ego. You were now more than grateful to have never openly communicated your feelings. As an adult, you could handle it, but you know exactly that this reaction would have devastated your childhood self. You were not accustomed to this insensitivity from Neteyam, considering he always maintained a noble and respectable demeanor. This showed you even more how repulsive the idea of having you by his side was to him.

"Also, I'm sorry," you turned around in a swing, your voice filled with sadness, disappointment, and above all, anger—anger at him for acting like a skxawng and anger at yourself for being a skxawng by confiding in him, "that the thought of me being attracted to you disgusts you so much. It won't happen again, rest your mind."

He seemed lost for words, blinking once, twice, and opening his mouth only to close it again, processing your words. Part of you yearned for him to say something, to prove you wrong, but nothing came. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, altering between your eyes, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere," you said, your voice tinged with resignation. You prepared to turn away, ready to retreat from the turmoil of the moment. But just as you began to pivot, a sudden, gentle grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. It was Neteyam, his touch both unexpected and tender.

In that instant, conflicting emotions surged within you, caught between the instinct to push him away and the captivating gaze that held your attention. Without uttering a single word, he drew you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace that left you completely defenseless, your body momentarily frozen in surprise against his bare skin.

Your initial response was to resist, your mind still reeling from the whirlwind of confusion. Yet, as his arms enveloped you, a scent as enchanting as the forest's vibrant essence and the serenity of sacred woods wafted into your consciousness. It was a harmonious blend that stirred your senses, mingling the fragrant allure of nature with the grounding whispers of sandalwood.

Inhaling deeply, the captivating aroma cast a spell upon you, dissolving the remnants of anger and frustration that had once consumed your thoughts like a distant memory as he held you firmly in his strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping into your very core.

In this suspended moment, time appeared to lose its grip as the only audible sounds were the rhythm of your synchronized breaths and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

"I'm sorry too," you heard him whisper in your hair as he pulled away from you and left the tent, leaving you confused.

It was in that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the soft whispers of the forest outside the tent, that you realized the painful truth: nothing would be the same between you and Neteyam because

no matter what you did, you would never be able to make him love you.

And exactly this is the reason of your sleepless nights, which is why, in the middle of your melancholic nostalgia, you decided to take a little walk to the lake nearby to pass the time until daybreak which leads you to the lake. You currently sit on a mossy tree stump above the shimmering water allowing your feet to hang freely just above the glistening surface of the lake, instead of sleeping safe and sound like the rest of the village. The purples, greens, and yellows of the bioluminescent flora and fauna smile at you but you fail to smile back. Your heart heavy with a mix of emotions and your mind full of questions, you try not to think of more memories, each one feeling like a dagger, piercing your already fragile heart.

You try to understand, yet it's difficult for you.

After so many failed attempts and moments of acceptance in between, he still manages to confuse you with his mixed signals. The moment, when he hugged you, replays relentlessly in your thoughts as if burned in your mind, a vivid recollection that carries the weight of his proximity, the tempting linger of his scent, and the electric touch that ignited a fierce tension within you. It was an encounter that left an indelible mark, an irresistible dance between desire and restraint, etching itself into the deepest recesses of your longing soul.

You groan into your hands. You want to hate him. So much.

Three eclipses have come and gone since then, way too much time to think between that and the part where you made the decision to distance yourself from Neteyam. This time for real. You wake up earlier than everyone else, dedicating yourself to your work, skipping communal meals and shared gatherings entirely. You complete your tasks and retreat back to your home, like a ghost in the clan, yet living unscathed within your own space, seeking solace in the sanctuary of solitude.

Almost every hour, you find yourself battling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you long to see him, to be in his presence, and to feel that familiar connection. But on the other hand, you remember his last words and the way he looked at you when he learned about your past feelings. Distance will be best for the both of you. The ache in your heart hasn't subsided, but you know the step is necessary for your own well-being, it's a shield you've built to preserve what little strength remains within you.

Yesterday, your changed behavior was noticed by Tsahik, so she confronted you directly, but she neither questioned you nor expected any form of explanation. Her words still echo in your mind, partly because forgetting the moment will be difficult with the way she looked at you with her kind eyes, as if understanding the depths of your heartache.

"My child," she laid her hand gently on your shoulder, her voice carrying the wisdom of the ages, "Sometimes the tides do not turn in the way we hope but that does not diminish the beauty of the love within your heart. Always remember that Eywa has woven the threads of affection and devotion. Thus, have trust that the stars will align one day, for love, in all its form, is a gift to cherish."

The words resonate deep within your soul, as you sit by the tranquil water, the soft glow of the plants casting an ethereal light around you, a gentle breeze rustles through the verdant foliage. In these moments of isolation, you reflect on the times you've spent with Neteyam, the moments that sparked the flame of attraction within you. You question whether those were genuine or merely figments of your imagination, the doubts swirling in your mind, clouding your judgment and feeding your insecurities.

The stars above seem to mirror the twinkle in your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled desire for you can't comprehend why your heart continues to long for him despite your mind trying to move on. Your thoughts are deep in contemplation when—

"Can we talk?" The voice startles you, and you flinch sharply, almost letting out a scream. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the fright taking hold of you. Quickly, you turn around, only to see that out of everyone, Neteyam approaches you, his figure blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a crooked smile forms on his lips.

You look up, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression, unsure of what to expect from this encounter. His presence catches you off guard, causing your heart to skip another beat. The sight of him stirs a mix of emotions within you—longing, uncertainty, fear, but also a flicker of hope.

"You didn't," you lie, your voice tinged with coldness.

He nods his head towards the space beside you, "May I?"

Neteyam's eyes hold a certain earnestness, a silent plea for understanding. You just shrug your shoulders, and he interprets it as a yes. He takes a seat beside you, his movements graceful and measured, his tail gently swaying in the air, your shoulders and thighs nearly touching.

The silence between you is tense, charged with unspoken words and residual feelings. You let your feet dangle above the water. As you wiggle your toes, you feel a gentle coolness from the air mingling with the refreshing touch of the water below.

He clears his voice, "I've noticed your absence these past few days."

"Oh?" Your ears perk up with curiosity, surprised that he has noticed, "I was busy."

"You were missing from the meal servings as well," he notes, his words carrying a hint of concern.

"Yeah, I haven't had much of an appetite lately," you reply, sounding detached.

You aren't sure if you have misheard, but it seems like Neteyam has whispered softly to himself, "Me neither," although it can also be your mind playing tricks on you.

"You see, I, uh..." he pauses, seemingly struggling to find the right words which is so unusual for him, "Can I speak openly with you?"

"Don't you always?" Your voice still laced with a hint of coldness.

"Indeed," you noticed from the corner of your eye a brief tension in his hands that gradually relaxes, "I just wanted to let you know that there is no need for you to feel obligated to skip communal gatherings because of me."

You can't help but scoff at that, however, he remains undeterred by your reaction.

"It's okay if you don't want to see me — I will keep my distance if that is what you want, but, please, don't avoid the clan in an attempt to avoid me. Don't isolate yourself."

"Funny," you say bitterly, your gaze still on the water, "that you think you have that much power over me."

"That's not what I wanted to say, it's—"

"It's fine, Neteyam," you interrupt him, turning your head to him, your jaw clenched, "I get it. If the future Olo'eyktan says so, I'll comply. See you at the morning meal."

You attempt to get up, but he gently grasps your wrist, halting your movement.

"I can sense that something has changed between us, and it weighs heavily on my heart," his voice carries a hint of vulnerability.

"Things change," you respond as he loosens his grip, but you refrain from attempting to get up again, waiting for the conversation to end, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," he shifts, causing your thighs to briefly brush against each other, "I've had time to reflect on our last conversation."

"Actually, let's not—" you try to interrupt him, but this time he doesn't let your words stop him.

"Let me say this one thing and after that you don't have to talk to me again."

You meet his gaze, which is filled with honesty and a touch of guilt. You nod and look at him, noticing how he rubs his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath.

"I was caught off guard," he admits, his voice softer now, "When we talked, I mean; and when I learned that you used to feel an affection for me — I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry for the way I reacted and for the pain I may have caused you."

You remain silent for a few seconds remembering the unpleasant conversation from last time, before you speak, "We don't have to talk about it, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" You notice the tension in his muscles. "You see," he takes a deep breath, "I didn't understand why you would crush on me."

"You made that very clear," you remark.

"I regret my poor choice of words, and for any offense it may have caused. I immediately noticed that my words had an impact on you, but I was too overwhelmed to correct myself in the moment," he admits, a hint of regret in his voice, "Please know that the idea of you being attracted to me never has and never will disgust me," his eyes lock with yours as his voice gets quieter when he adds, "It scares me."

Upon hearing that, your features soften slightly, a flicker of empathy crossing your face, and the question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, "Why?"

Now he's the one shrugging, "Everyone has their own doubts and fears."

You're not satisfied with that response, and you want him to open up to you for which you are willing to meet him halfway. So you begin an attempt to make him elaborate on his statement, "I'm scared of many things." you watch him intently as you speak, "Accidentally plucking poisonous plants instead of the usual herbs, falling down the hallelujah mountains, being eaten alive by nantangs." And most of all, rejection. "I can't help but wonder what fears could reside within a mighty warrior like yourself."

His mouth twitches slightly upwards when you say that, but is quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "The possibility of someone seeing through my façade," Neteyam admits sighing, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and self-reflection, "Of someone truly knowing me," he holds your gaze, a certain vulnerability in them, "That terrifies me."

You are left speechless, completely caught off guard by his answer.

"But," you stammer, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, "you're Neteyam, you're... perfect in everything you do. I never considered the possibility that you might have these thoughts."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No, definitely not, I am far off from being perfect. That's why I couldn't understand why you would have feelings for me," he confesses, vulnerability shining in his gaze. "Because I never saw myself the way you did. But maybe, just maybe, this is why I've been blind to the possibility of something more between us."

"If you're only here to make me feel better about myself..." you start, your voice trailing off.

"No," he groans in frustration. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

He chuckles at your reaction, "I get nervous when you look at me that way."

"What do you mean?" You are the one getting nervous because of his statement for he doesn't look nervous at all, on the contrary, he looks very relaxed and almost overconfident.

"Yeah, can't you tell my hands are all sweaty?" he lets you know with a smirk while he studies your face.

"Neteyam," you blink in confusion, "Are you okay?"

"You're not listening," he sighs, his smile dropping slightly.

"Then talk openly," you urge impatiently.

He takes a deep breath and looks you directly in the eyes. "I've come to realize that you mean more to me than just a friend."

Your features falter and your eyes widen, as the realization dawns upon you that your feelings have not been unrequited after all. "No."

"I have a crush on you, too," he whispers euphorically, confirming your thoughts.

"No, Neteyam, not now," you shake your head quickly, your mind filled with way too many thoughts and too much confusion. Instantly, you stand up as if stung by an insect, trying to maintain your composure.

"It didn't start now, it was always there," he admits, standing up as well, now towering over you and studying your face and your reaction again. "But I fear that I've missed my chance. And now, it seems like it's too late."

Ignoring his words entirely, you fixate your serious gaze on him, "You can't do this to me."

"What?" he blinks, seeming to comprehend your words, "Why?" his gaze momentarily shifts from one eye to the other with a swift glance, reflecting his confusion.

"Because all my life, I did everything to try to make you notice me. I went beyond my comfort zone, I did everything I could. But from you," You look at him, gesturing towards his entire figure as if the reason were obvious, "there was nothing. Not one single acknowledgment from you. I accepted it. I moved on. I made peace with the thought of just knowing you and supporting what is good for you," You find yourself almost breathless, your words tumbling out rapidly, but each one carries sincere meaning. "You can't come now, years later, and pretend that you have a crush on me. I can't go through that again."

He takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I... I'm not pretending to—"

"And I'm so tired," you interrupt him, your voice faltering, "Now that I've finally let go of you, you can't say things like this."

"Let go?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief, "Of me?"

"Yes, Neteyam," you persist firmly. "Let go of you. I don't want you anymore."

The night air feels heavy with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled desires as the silence underlines the shared acknowledgment of the chasm that has opened between you. Neteyam's expression shifts from disappointment to determination, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. "How do I make you love me, then?"

It feels ironic that he's asking you that question, considering you used to be the one who always wondered how you could make him love you whenever you saw him. You groan in frustration, feeling overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

"I worked so hard to accept things as they are. That is not fair, Neteyam." A mix of sadness and anger can be heard in your voice.

"Please listen," he pleads, reaching out to touch your arm. You close your eyes, turning your head away. "I've been blind to your feelings, consumed by my own worries and obligations, and I didn't see what was right in front of me, hurting you in the process. I'm sorry I caused you pain. If I had known sooner…"

"What then?" you interrupt, your voice filled with bitterness. "Do you think everything would magically change, and we'd be deeply in love with a family of our own by now?"

Neteyam pauses for a moment, processing your words, and a hopeful smile crosses his face. "Yes, that's a possibility."

You groan in exasperation and attempt to push him away, your frustration boiling over. "No, Neteyam. I can't keep living in this cycle of uncertainty."

As you push him away from you, your heart heavy, you walk away with determined steps, wanting to bring as much distance between him and you as possible.

"I love you!" he shouts after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks and turn around in utter shock. "I love you. And if that's not enough, then so be it. But I would rather be damned than let you go now, heading who knows where in the middle of the night. If you don't want me, I won't approach you, I won't come near. But don't run away from me."

Desperation visible in his voice, his words reach deep into your heart; the intensity echoing in the air, leaving a profound impact on both of you.

"I've been waiting for your love for far too long," you respond bitterly.

Taking cautious steps in your direction, trying to close the physical and emotional distance between you, he asks, "Why waste more time?" It feels as if an invisible force draws you together, intertwining your fates in this pivotal moment but you remain stubborn, too exhausted and clouded from the painful burn in your heart.

"I don't want you," you declare, the words slipping out uncertainly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself.

"Then look me in the eyes when you say those words," he challenges, his voice stern, gaze unwavering.

"I don't want you," you repeat, louder this time, trying to emphasize your resolve. However, instead of looking into his eyes, your gaze fixates on his face, tracing the patterns of his glowing freckles that your mind has memorized long ago.

The moonlight bathes the scene in a gentle gleam, and you both stare at each other in complete silence, the space between you filled with suffocating tension.

A knowing smile suddenly forms on his lips. "I don't believe you."

"I don't want you, Neteyam!" you exclaim, raising your voice even more, repeating the words over and over, in a desperate attempt to convince him, "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you!"

He studies you intently for another moment, his eyes filled with hope.

"Your tail gives you away," he says triumphantly, his smile growing. And that's when you finally let go of your suppressed emotions. Your lower lip begins to tremble, and before you know it, you find yourself in his warm embrace, his strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"I want you," you confessed against his chest, your voice barely audible and filled with so much vulnerability, "After everything, I still want you."

"Shh, you have me," he whispers, his voice soothing and reassuring.

You sob, the weight of your emotions finally breaking free, and he tenderly pats your head, his fingers gliding through your hair. His touch brings a sense of calmness to your racing heart and gently dries your tears.

"I'll make up for all the time lost, I promise," his voice reaches your ear, soft and full of sincerity.

His words continue to soothe you, and at one point, he hums a faint melody that resonates deep within you, gradually bringing an end to your sobs.

"Do you recall the day you asked about my plans after my Dream Hunt, and I hesitated to provide an answer?" He asks after you calm down, his voice carrying an infinite sense of solace.

Your arms still around him, you nod against his chest, every word of that conversation etched into your mind.

"That day," he continues, "I have sworn to myself to admire your eternal beauty from afar, to cherish your body, mind, and soul until the end of my days," he whispers softly in your hair, "with the hope that one day I will hold you close and claim you as my very own."

You take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by his words and the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your teary eyes meeting his with awe.

"I... I never imagined you felt this way," you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile from your sobs. "To think that you've carried these feelings for me all this time, it's... I don't know what to say."

"Interesting," he comments, eyes with a gleam, lips playful, "You were just as oblivious to my feelings as I was to yours, so I guess that makes us even." A mischievous bunny-like smile plays across his face, transforming him into the youthful version of himself that you have fallen deeply in love with, no longer the mighty warrior following in the footsteps of the great Toruk Makto, but the young man who has captured your heart long ago.

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the intensity of your own emotions. With a shaky breath, you reach to your waist, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

In the warmth of his arms, you find solace for your burning heart. His arms hold you tightly, offering a sense of intimate security that you've always wished for. But then, something shifts.

The intensity of your emotions begins to wane, and as you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, you see his gaze fixed upon you with unwavering love, trying to read you as he cups your face with his large hands. His thumb gently brushes away a lingering tear on your cheek, his touch delicate against your skin. A soft, affectionate smile graces his lips as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the place where your tear was mere seconds ago. The sweetness of the gesture stirs your heart, a silent affirmation of his loving nature. He continues to kiss away your tears, each touch a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

A powerful desire burns between you then, as his soft lips linger near yours. His eyes meet yours again, seeking permission, and you respond with a silent nod. Right then and there, the world around you fades into the background, and all that matters is the connection you share. With a surge of passion, his lips meet yours in a fervent kiss, the longing coming to an end, hearts intertwined.

The tender touch of his lips against yours feels like an electric jolt that sends shivers down your spine. You both pull back slowly from the passionate kiss, breathless yet connected. Your eyes meet, gazing into each other with a depth of love that words can never describe.

His eyes hold unwavering sincerity as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You've captured my heart in ways I can't fully express," he confesses, his voice filled with affection. "And if you'll allow me, I want to show you every day how deeply I love you."

A deep blue blush tints your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to respond. He doesn't seem to mind as a soft smile spreads across his face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, adoring the tranquil moment between two souls.

Enjoying each other's presence and your newfound attraction and happiness, you spend the rest of the night hand in hand wandering around mindlessly, exchanging loving gazes, talking about everything and sweet nothing's at once like two fools in love.

"Do you remember that day?" You hear him ask cheerfully as his free hand wanders to the songcord attached to his loincloth. You follow his movement and your eyes widen as you recognize the dried petals, intricately woven into one of the beads. "It was so unconventional, going against tradition. Who has ever seen a girl giving a flower to a boy? No one. But you didn't care. You were true to yourself, and you gifted me your favorite flower, and it meant so much more than just a little gesture."

Taking aback by his words and the bittersweet memory you can't help but smile widely as you inspect his songcord but confusion grazes your face at the same time.

"Wait—What do you mean? Lo'ak told me it's your favorite flower."

"No, he told me it's your favorite."

"Well, it became my favorite after I learned that it's yours."

A boisterous laugh escapes him as he throws his head back, his chest almost vibrating, and it is so contagious that you can't help but join in, the air filled with heartfelt laughter.

"It's gonna cause quite a scandal, but Lo'ak definitely deserves a good punch when he wakes up." You laughed, knowing that he meant that half-heartedly.

He delicately cradles your hand back in his, your fingers intertwining as he brings them up, his lips softly brushing against your knuckles in a loving kiss. The touch sends a warmth through your body.

"Speaking of scandals," you say sheepishly as you reluctantly let go of his hand, "maybe it's better not to enter our village hand in hand just yet?"

He chuckles at your suggestion.

"Maybe," he agrees, his eyes filled with adoration, his face leaning slightly forward, "Can I have one last kiss before that?"

You look at him challengingly, he mirrors your expression, a playful glint in his eyes, coming closer to your face.

Your lips almost touching for the second time this night, you whisper, "Only if you catch me."

With that, you run off, your heart blooming with excitement, and his laughter follows you through the enchanting forest as the sun rises, casting its warm rays across the sky, and you know that the future holds nothing but love for the both of you.

for anyone asking, neteyam does in fact catch you and gets his kiss(es) <3 thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging 🤍 btw, what is your love language? 💕

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oakbuggy · 4 months

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older Lo'ak with metkayina tattoos+hair!

#doodle #loak sully #avatar way of water #fanart #avatar 2 #digital art #digital illustration #just how i'd imagine his hair and such!#not much change #based on the design i have for him in my fanfic lol

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ripnevillestrevor · 1 year

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jeytiri avatar dr masterlist

return to the main masterlist

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, please tell me what you think!

────────────

script info;

dr information;

────────────

our fortress;

chapter one;

chapter two;

chapter three;

chapter four;

chapter five;

chapter six;

────────────

pinterest board 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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naavispider · 5 months

Note

Does Quaritch in Oh No mind Spider's long hair (does he have dreadlocks? Sorry if you've mentioned it before, I don't remember much) or will it be cut off at some point?

Spider does have dreadlocks, but they are way better maintained than in canon. That’s because Spider was happy with the Sullys - it was the perfect foster placement and everyone was/is still hoping it will lead to adoption. So whether he likes it or not, his hair is maintained properly (Neytiri sees to it).

Quaritch doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t care enough about it to force the issue. In this AU, Quaritch does at least respect Spider’s individual liberty (minus the whole kidnapping thing) so he’ll let it lie, like he does in canon. He’s more just thrilled that his kid is back with him, even though he’s acting on the outside like he’s rock hard, extremely disciplined and slightly unhinged.

I’ve written Spider parting ways with his dreadlocks too many times to count so it’s nice to explore a Quaritch who doesn’t actually have a major issue with it 🙈

#my stuff: oh no #spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water fanfic #ask

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pandoraslxna · 6 months

Text

Classified briefing

Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: Briefings can be so boring. Luckily, Quaritch has his favorite little lap warmer with him to make to whole thing so much more entertaining.

Warnings: explicit smut, no plot at all just porn, in public, age difference, size difference, cockwarming but with toys, authority kink, voyeurism, sex toys (anal plug, vibrator/dildo), public humiliation, everyone kinda thirsts over reader because this is my dirty little fantasy hehe

Notes: i wrote this back in august and then totally forgot about it until now so here it is, not proofread at all and not my best work either lol

There’s a long, polished table that stretches across the center of the room. The table's sleek design exudes elegance, and the smooth surface reflects the room's cold, overhead lighting. It makes you feel even more out of place than you already were.

You can’t help the tremble of you knees once your eyes fall to Dr. Garvin and Mick Scoresby, both of them considered big fish in their area of expertise. You swallow dryly, nervousness slowly creeping up under your skin.

A gentle push to your lower back signals you to move, and then your feet automatically carry you further into the conference room. Most seats are already taken up, each person exuding an air of authority and importance, and a hushed silence falls over them as you near the table.

Glancing to the handful of free seats and based on their ridiculous size, you could only assume who they were reserved for.

The recoms act like a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Pushing each other in a fight for the seats in the far back, snickering and cursing, and you want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands for all the attention they draw on themselves and ultimately on you, too.

Thankfully, they all fall silent once the Colonel clears his throat and takes the first seat, thighs spread like he owns the place. Again, you feel so out of place, frantically looking around to find a place to sit and make yourself even smaller than you already were, next to those trees of blue soldiers.

But before you can even do as much as blink, all chairs seem to be occupied and you find yourself standing, nervously fiddling with the seam of your skirt, before two big hands grab your hips and pull you down to sit on a warm lap.

In all honesty, you were already expecting him to pull a stunt like this. Obviously there had to be a reason for him to bring you here, and not just because he thought you were oh, so interested in a meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you or your work at all.

Quaritch grins and pulls you closer by your waist, a huff of breath fanning over the top of your head at your little whine of discomfort.

Sitting down makes you hyperaware of the round little silicon toy, the plug that’s sitting snug inside your ass since he himself had placed it there a couple of hours before.

"Be good while I work and I’ll reward you later", he reminds you quietly, squeezing your hips in a warning grip and you nod, blushing. But the faint rosy color on your cheeks soon turns into a deep flush of red that spreads all the way to the tip of your ears, once Miles pulls a little, pink remote, barely the size of your thumb, out of his pocket and places it on the table right in front of your face. You know what this is for. Not for the plug, no, but for the other toy that’s spreading your pussy open, the one you’re currently clamping down on.

For a moment, all your attention is fixed on staying still, not moving too much like that would remind him to turn the switch on and—

"With all respect, Colonel", a voice suddenly speaks up, then a finger is pointed at you and your breath hitches in your throat. "What is she doing here?"

Scoresby looks at you, then back up at Quaritch, and while he doesn’t speak to you directly, the message is clear. It seems Miles feels the way you tense up, because his hands begin to run up and down your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over your skin.

"Keeping my lap warm", he grins and shrugs in an act of fake innocence, and Scoresbys jaw clenches so tight at the sound of snickering coming from the other recoms, that you‘re sure you just heard something crack.

He actually looks a little relieved at the voice of Dr. Garvins as he politely chimes in, "She’s from the scientific department, sir. That means she’s certainly not qualified enough to b–"

"I- I can leave, it’s okay", you cut him off, causing all present pair of eyes to fall onto your smaller frame. Your attempt to stand up however, is quickly interrupted by Quaritchs arm around your middle, pulling you back down and keeping you there, firm and secured. No chance to flee.

"No, you won’t."

The tension in the air is thick enough, you could probably cut it with scissors. There’s a uncomfortable silence, before the Colonel opens his mouth again, smug as ever, "Her qualifications are none of your concerns, doctor. In fact, I am her qualification to be here. Now if you would please move on and wrap this up so we can all go on with our days? I have other businesses to attend to."

Dr. Garvin, in no mood to argue with the recom that’s over twice his size, straightens up, clears his throat, nods, and moves to the center of the room to stand in front of a big holographic map.

His voice is still a little shaky, a thin layer of nervous sweat sitting on his forehead as he starts the briefing like nothing’s ever happened. The recoms sitting to your left and right instantly scoot back in their seats, settling into more comfortable positions like they’ve been through enough meetings like these to know this could take an awful while.

You allow yourself to finally exhale the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, shoulders hunching a little as you try to listen to what was being said in front of you.

Something about na’vi clans, metkayina, the ocean, weapons, their relations to something they call Tulkun and then over time, it flows into all that war talk you can barely keep up with.

Not that you could actually focus, really focus, on anything other than the pair of hands roaming up and down your thighs the whole time and the feeling of being so full, so on edge, but not being able to do anything about it. His palms are warm and rough on the soft of your skin, squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh from time to time, which causes you to clamp down on the toys inside you. You close your eyes briefly- inhale, exhale.

When you open them again, you desperately try to find something else to put your focus on. Next to you sits Lyle, the Corporal plays with a pen, flicks it around in skilled fingers, looking just as bored as the rest of team deja blue. It’s actually quite interesting to look at, you think. That is, until he catches you staring. Your eyes meet and he winks at you. Straightening up, you glance in the other direction, trying to hide to blush spreading over your cheeks.

Lyle may be an exception when it came to Quaritch‘s possessiveness, but that doesn’t mean the Colonel won’t tease you for this.

Your whole body tenses when suddenly, a low vibrating buzz shoots through your core, putting your nerves on fire. The suddenness of it all gives you barely any time to stifle the gasp that falls from your parted lips, quieting down the whole room. Your ears are ringing, pleasure surging through you in pulsating waves, before Quaritch switches the toy off again. Well, not entirely off, but at least to the lowest setting. Enough for you to calm down again.

Blinking away the stars behind your eyelids, you realize, to your absolute horror, that Dr. Garvin has stopped talking. And he is staring right at you, mouth slightly agape. And so are some of the other humans. The other half that’s not looking at you, is trying their absolute most to keep it that way, staring at the papers in front of them or counting the tiles on the ceiling.

"Excuse her. Normally she knows how to behave", Quaritch breaks the nerve wrecking silence with a chuckle, "Please, move on."

Garvin clears his throat, sweat now beading at his temples as he stutters to continue where he had left off.

"Corporal Weinfleet here is trying to concentrate, darlin'", Miles hums lowly into your ear, hands gripping your waist to pull you down harder against his lap. "And you’re being very distractive."

His hands hold you down, and then he makes your waist circle on his crotch, hard enough to feel the plugs heart shaped handle grind against his cock.

"S-Sorry, I’m sorry", you whimper quietly, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any more noise.

"Don’t tell that to me", he grins. One of his hands then tips your chin up and gently turns you to look over to his right hand man, who’s grinning back at you like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks.

"Sorry, Lyle", you mutter, big doe eyes looking up at the recom.

You know there are important words being said. Things about trade, unions, Tulkun, hunting, Sully and all the work that still needed to be done to catch this guy you’ve heard so much of. Over an hour has passed of nothing but strategizing and thinly veiled arguments and it’s safe to stay, you’re slowly loosing the battle against your own body’s desires.

The vibrator still weakly buzzes inside you, and you struggle not to squirm on Quaritch’s lap, you really do. But it’s just so difficult.

Your breathing has started to come out in shallow pants, nerves being on edge for way too long now, and then Quaritch leans forward, curling a piece of hair behind your ear so that he can murmur into it.

"Relax, princess", Quaritch whispers. "Just trying to take the edge off for you…" Your lace panties are absolutely soaked with arousal by now, and your teeth scrape over your bottom lip as you inhale sharply through your nose when he flicks the switch and the vibrations turn more intense. Your toes curl. But you don’t move. "Good girl, doing so good for me. That feel good, hm?"

Motherf— "Yes, sir", you shakily exhale. Just a little more, you think. A little more and you could… if only you weren’t in a room full of people.

Miles fingertips stroke gently up your thigh, causing little goosebumps to appear and your entire body to shiver at his caress. It’s a battle not to tighten every muscle against it, to let it roll through you for everyone to see, because the alternative is far more dangerous. You know for certain that he wouldn’t have even the teeny tiny littlest bit of a problem with bending you over this table and fucking you raw for the whole conference room to see, if you wouldn’t behave and sit still. You swallow thickly at the thought and fuck, you wished you didn’t bought that mental image up because you clench around the plug, around the vibrator, feeling both toys rub against each other through the thin wall that’s separating them.

Someone coughs at the other side of the table and your eyes flicker up to Scoresby, sitting three down at the head of the table. He’s watching you with a cocked eyebrow and a barely concealed glint in his eye.

He knows, you think. You can see it in the way he looks at you, filthy and creepy and— Another wave of pleasure shoots through you like lightning, the vibrations picking up and it causes your entire body, including the walls of your aching holes, to tighten even more, and the tiniest little whimper to escape from the hollow of your throat before you can swallow it down.

Your cheeks flush, the tips of your ears heat, and you quickly turn your attention back to Quaritch just as he opens his mouth.

"You like having that nasty fucker look at you, huh?"

You try your very best not to keen from the feel of your sticky underwear clinging to your pussy, pushing the toys deeper in as he pulls them up a little, giving you a mean wedgie under the table.

"N-No, sir", you whisper.

"But you’re putting on quite the show." Miles grins, sharp toothed and mischievously, his eyes boring into Scoresby until he finally adverts his gaze, his nervousness covered by yet another cough.

"I‘m– I’m n-not…", is all you manage to force out, panting heavily.

Your back arches and just like that, the vibrator is at the perfect position. Just up against your g-spot, the silicon tip rubbing so slightly against the oversensitive ridges.

Your fingers grasp at his forearms, blunt nails dig deep into the thick blue skin, as you focus more on clinging to him than how full you feel, how each breath you take makes the toys move ever so slightly to tease you deep inside and how the vibrations are on their highest level, ruining you from the inside out and causing your whole body to physically shudder.

You’re so ridiculously wet, natural lubricant squeezing around the toys, drenching your panties and now soaking a small patch onto his pants where you’re seated. It feels good. So good, and you’re so close and everyone can probably hear how heavy you’re breathing, so you think fuck it and rock forward with the smallest ”mmh” and a bolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. Quaritch can feel his cock twitch with the growth of his own impatience.

"Look who’s getting bold", he chuckles quietly, and you dare to roll your hips forward. "You want to come, huh? So close, ain’t ya?"

You feel eyes on you. Prager as he dares to put a hand over his cargos and squeeze his aching cock. Mansk staring so shamelessly at you, like his sunglasses make him invisible. Feel Lyle next to you tilt his head to try and catch a glimpse of what’s underneath your skirt.

Feel Miles hands on your hips, tight enough they might bruise your skin as he rocks you back and forth on his crotch, clit dragging over the wet fabric of your panties.

"Please", you whine softly, eyes fluttering close as you let pleasure overtake all your senses, not even caring for the fact that you’re in a room full of people.

"M‘not holding you back, darlin'", he speaks lowly into your ear, bouncing his leg a few times to push those toys just an inch deeper inside you. "Come, if you can keep it down."

Your brain had completely checked out sometime around when your abdomen began to clench with your exasperated breathing and the throbbing between your thighs became so unbearable, you slumped forward. The cold table top against the burning hot skin of your forehead felt like a relief and you had to bite your tongue hard, to not moan out loud.

The vibrations inside your core felt like they were shaking and stimulating ever single nerve there was, to the point all you could do was let it happen. Your whole body felt hot, sticky with sweat and other body fluids as you clamped down on both toys for the final time, before you fell apart with a choked little gasp, followed by silent whimpers of, "Hngh– fuck, f-fuck!"

"There you go, buttercup", you heard Lyle snicker next to you, only adding further to the humiliation you tried so hard to ignore. "About time."

Your whole body locked up, thighs squeezing shut and muscles tensing, as you tried your absolute most to hold back all those pathetic little noises.

"You owe me twenty bucks, Mansk. Told ya‘ she can’t hold it in", came as a whisper from your left, yet you couldn’t put your focus on that voice enough to figure out who was speaking. Ja maybe, or, or… fuuck, fucking hell.

The vibrations inside you went on and on for as long as Quaritch doomed you were capable of, and it felt like you were still coming, until he finally, mercifully, decided to shut the toy off.

It was almost comically how you instantly went slack on his lap, the moment the vibrator inside you stopped working. The content little sigh that left your parted lips was all you could hear, as the room had turned awkwardly silent over the past few minutes.

Then, a dark chuckle sent a chill down your spine, as Quaritch looked over at Garvins stunned frame and said, "You were saying, doc?"

#colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader smut #miles smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch smut #atwow quaritch #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #avatar quaritch #quaritch x you #quaritch fanfic #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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