“If love is a labor, I’ll slave to the end.” (Swing Life Away: Rise Against)

“Don’t try to sleep through the end of the world.” (This is Gospel : Panic! At the Disco)

“Put your lighter in the air and lead me back home.” (Break In : Halestorm)

“When you look into the mirror, are you even there?” (Like a Villain : Bad Omens)

“I could follow you to the beginning just to relive the start.” (All I Wanted Was You : Paramore)

"What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you." (Wicked Game : Stone Sour)

“I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.” (Dance, Dance : Fall Out Boy)

“I wish you were a stranger I could disengage.” (Over My Head : The Fray)

“Oh, you say you love me? That’s funny. Well, so do I.” (Joyride : Kesha)

“Now I’m getting in the car, wrecking all my plans. I know I should stop — but I can’t.” (Bad Idea, Right? : Olivia Rodrigo)

"What's it say about me if I run away without you when I fall asleep and in your head I'm always gonna stay?" (Impose : Bad Omens)

“I’m always pushing you away from me, but you come back with gravity.” (I Know The End : Phoebe Bridgers)

“You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.” (So Long, London : Taylor Swift)

"Is it a sin if I wish for destruction?" (From Me to U : Babymetal)

“All my battles have been won, but the war has just begun.” (City : Hollywood Undead)

“Truth is it was never love — your fault if you thought it was.” (Stay Numb and Carry On : Madison Beer)

“Angels lie to keep control.” (Snuff : Slipknot)

“Close my eyes, close my heart, close the book I never meant to start.” (California : Chvrches)

"In this land of make believe, dead and dry, you're so cold but you feel alive." (So Cold : Breaking Benjamin)

"We were goin' right, then you took a left, left me with a lot of shit to second-guess." (Sharpest Tool : Sabrina Carpenter)

“I've heard that you reap what you sow, so here's to believing in ghosts.” (A Grave Mistake : Ice Nine Kills)

“Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple — sometimes goodbye’s the only way.” (Shadow of the Day : Linkin Park)

"I'll never turn back time, forgetting you but not the time." (Whatshername : Green Day)

"Through it all, I've made my mistakes, I stumble and fall, but I mean these words." (With Me : Sum 41)

"Do you think about star signs? Because I think I saw Jupiter dive into the black sky." (No Thinking Over the Weekend : Carly Rae Jepsen)

"Find another place to feed your greed while I find a place to rest." (A Place for My Head : Linkin Park)

“Call me when you know you're feeling lovesick.” (Without Me : Dayseeker)

“Wrap yourself in petals for armor.” (Simmer : Hayley Williams)

"Stay your pretty eyes on course, keep the memories of who I was before." (The Line - Twenty One Pilots)

“For every failing sun, there’s a morning after.” (The World is Ugly : My Chemical Romance)

"Burn bridges just for fun, have I gone numb?" (Bad Things : I Prevail)

"I'll say, 'Arrivederci, au revoir,' forgive my French, but fuck you, ta-ta!" (Goodbye : Sabrina Carpenter)

"The glass of my intentions turns to sand and shatters in my hand." (25 : The Pretty Reckless)

“Raise your hands into the sky. The fight is done, the war is won — lift your hands toward the sun.” (This is War : Thirty Seconds to Mars)

“Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me. Where the raindrops, as they’re falling, tell a story.” (Imaginary : Evanescence)

“I don’t wanna live another day without you in the dark.” (In the Dark : DJ Snake & Stray Kids)

“Like a house on fire, we’re up in flames. I’d burn here if that’s what it takes.” (House on Fire : Rise Against)

“I’d rather be dry, but at least I’m alive.” (Rain On Me : Lady Gaga)

"I’m not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you’re standing still." (Paralyzed : Finger Eleven)

"It took me years to see that you had sucked the life out of me." (If It Doesn't Hurt : Nothing More)

"Late night devil, put your hands on me and never, never, never ever let go." (Teeth : 5 Seconds of Summer)

"Can someone turn the lights down?" (Sick of the Sun : Poppy)

"The truth is hiding in your eyes and it's hanging on your tongue, just boiling in my blood." (Decode : Paramore)

"One look at you and I know what you're thinking, time's a bitch and my heart is sinking down." (Take Me on the Floor : The Veronicas)

"Is it insensitive for me to say 'Get your shit together?' so I can love you?" (Renegade : Big Red Machine)

"Made it out alive, but I think I lost it. Said that I was fine, I said it from the coffin." (That's so True : Gracie Abrams)

"Always an angel, never a god." (Not Strong Enough : Boygenius)

"Vendetta is a friend of mine, revenge is sweeter than wine." (One-Eyed Bastard : Green Day)

"You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore." (Clean : Taylor Swift)

I know the part I've played before, I know the shit that I've ignored. I know the girl that you adored, she's dead! It's time to fucking mourn." (Eat Me : Demi Lovato)

Lo’ak does not win. As expected.

He’d picked the thickest tree trunk nearby and still missed. Even with multiple tries.

“It is not fair!” Lo’ak kicks at the forest floor in irritation, sulking.

“I told you I would win.”

You rest a hand atop his head, flexing your fingers and rubbing his head, mussing his braids— as Neteyam would, and he roughly shakes it off. He complains again, and Neteyam acts as if his voice is equal to the annoying buzz of hellfire wasp wings, pulling a sweet ripe fruit and knife from the pack he’d brought.

With deft fingers, he slices it in half and holds some on his palm, offering it to you. Without thinking, you accept. The first bite is cool and refreshing, skin snapping sharply as your teeth sink in.

“Hey!” Lo’ak whines. “ I want one!”

Neteyam perches on a large, sun warmed stone, posture at ease, tail swaying as he pops a piece of fruit between his lips. “No,” he says around a mouthful of fruit. “There is no more.”

Lo’ak’s earlier ire resurfaces with a vengeance. “You— you always bring fruit for her! Why not me?” He clenches his fists. “I am your brother!”

Neteyam freezes, fruit halfway to its destination. “That is— she—” Neteyam stutters, sneaking a look at you. His ears droop, and he glares at Lo’ak. “She is here. You never are. That is why I bring it for her.”

Your cheeks burn as they argue.

Lo’ak calls Neteyam a ‘leaf- brained fruit hoarder’ — and storms off into the forest.

It’s silent for a moment, a barely noticeable awkward tension lingering in the air. Neteyam catches your eye and laughter bursts from both of you.

You join him on the stone, finishing your half of the fruit.

More lighthearted giggling is shared when Jake’s voice suddenly rings out, summoning Neteyam to his doom.

The sun has faded from a sunrise of pretty pinks and reds to bright blue, and it finds you huddled in a circle with ten other kids from the clan. Dried out leaves and heat fill your nose, and everyone chatters excitedly, anticipating the game to come.

The rules are simple; each team guards a glowing plant pod in its designated position, trying to snatch the other team’s before they snatch yours. Neteyam, is of course, one of the team captains. This time, Tirea— a bubbly, smart girl, is the other. Once the leaders have been chosen, they break apart and separate, ready to assemble their players.

They fill their teams, picking one by one. For some reason, you’re not first choice for either. You don’t understand, but it’s okay. You’re already close to Neteyam’s side anyways, certain you’ll be on his team.

Neteyam steps up to go next. His gaze falls to Teylan beside you, then flicks your way. You straighten, chest leaping, ready to move forward.

But his eyes slide back to Teylan.

“Teylan,” Neteyam calls, waving him forward. Teylan beams, bouncing over to Neteyam’s side.

You’re the last one left.

A stone drops into your chest as you shuffle to Tirea’s team, blinking rapidly, as if that might stop the heavy sensation settling in your belly.

You glance at Neteyam. He doesn’t meet your eye. Your ribs squeeze tight, cheeks scorching. For a second, it feels like the world shrinks.

Tirea explains her idea on how to win. You listen, nodding when spoken to, but the words float passed your ears. You give your team a hollow smile and a thumbs up in agreement.

A chorus of laughter lifts from Neteyam’s team, twisting the knife in your ribcage, and your jaw clenches. A flood of determination rushes your veins, promising silently that you’ll win.

The game starts. You melt into the shadows of the trees, heart still tight. The mission is yours— steal the glowing pod. The forest hums around you, and you take a deep breath, channeling the tracker you’d practiced being when you caught the tapirus with Neteyam.

You sneak to where the other team’s pod is being hidden. Neteyam, it seems, has been tasked with guarding the prized possession.

Pressed against the shadow of a large root, disappointment curls in your gut. Neteyam is harder to distract than anyone else on his team. Which makes sense— he’s guarding, but it makes your job trickier. He’s not alone, and you watch as he sends his partner off to check a sound, probably one of the decoys from your team. Your fingers tingle, heart hammering as you decide what to do next.

Neteyam’s ears twitch, swiveling back and forth as he stalks in slow circles around the pod. The glow catches the freckles along his nose and cheeks, making them shimmer in the dim forest lighting. His tail flicks once, twice— then freezes as you step on a twig, the sharp crack of wood disturbing the quiet.

Panic spikes in your chest. You grab a piece of fruit from the bush beside you and toss it hard to the other side of Neteyam.

He turns instantly, and you bolt.

You sprint at his back, feet pounding, then jump, launching yourself at the glowing pod—

Neteyam spins just in time, snatching it away as your fingers grasp at air. You crash onto your stomach, hands curling tight into the dirt. The ground stings your palm as you smack it in frustration.

You glare up at him. He smiles in return, smug and unbothered.

A loud battle cry shatters your tense standoff, signaling the end of the game. Someone has stolen your team’s pod.

“That was a good try,” Neteyam says, offering his hand.

You don’t take it. Instead, you stand on your own, brushing dirt from your knees and avoiding his eyes. The ache in your chest throbs like a fresh bruise being poked.

“Whatever,” you huff, throat tight as you wallow in the loss of your team as well. The word comes out sharper than you meant it too.

You turn, ears pinned, and stomp off into the trees. A second later, you break into a run, not wanting him to catch up in case he follows.

Neteyam’s hand falls to his side. He watches you leave in confusion, ears lowering, tilting his head with a frown as if he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

The kids gather where you first met, laughter spilling easily through the clearing, bright and careless. Smiles pass between them like nothing was ever at stake, like winning and losing were just perfectly acceptable consequences of the game.

You linger at the edge of it, opposite Neteyam, forcing a smile when someone nudges your shoulder and laughs. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

Neteyam’s gaze is insistent— steady and warm, like it’s burrowing into the side of your face. You don’t look at him, you can’t. It’s too embarrassing.

The loss is a keen prickle in your chest, rubbing salt in the wound that opened before the game started. Your eyes begin to burn, the laughter in the air making it worse.

Before anyone can notice, you quietly slip away. The moment the kelutral engulfs you, the tears free fall. You scrub your forearm across your eyes, quick and rough, sniffling as you pace further inside. The joyful sounds fade behind you.

A firm hand closes around your bicep, stopping you short. You jump, breath catching as you turn.

“You are not going to celebrate with us?” Neteyam asks, soft spoken and curious.

You quickly wipe your face and pull your arm free, trying to smooth your expression. “I have to meet my parents..” you mumble, crossing your arms tight over your chest.

“Oh.” He hesitates, shifting his weight. “Um.. you did well today. During the game.” His lips press together in an unsure line.

Your tail swishes pointedly behind you, and you shrug. “I lost,” you point out. “We were on different teams. You aren’t supposed to say nice things to the enemy.”

“You are not my enemy,” he says in a rush, taking a small step closer.

You stare at your toes, wiggling them.

“You should have been on my team,” he adds quietly. “I just thought—” He cuts himself off, ears and shoulders wilting alike. “I thought you did not need me to win.”

The ache in your chest loosens, razor-like edges fading, and a small smile tugs at your mouth despite yourself. “Well… you were wrong,” you murmur. “We are a good team— the tapirus, remember?”

Neteyam brightens instantly, breaking into a grin. “Right! Next time, you are with me.”

He nudges your shoulder playfully, laughing, and you nudge him back, a quiet giggle escaping as things settle between you into a familiar, well known rhythm.

As the laughter softens into quiet giggles, you glance at him. “Want to go catch a shimmyfly? I made a new catcher… I just forgot to tell you.”

Neteyam’s ears perk high. “Yeah!” He replies, bright and excited. Then a small crease appears on his forehead. “Wait… what happened to the old one?”

You wave a hand. “I am using the netting to catch fish— hey!” you protest as he starts to laugh. “It is a good idea!”

His laughter grows, and you shove him before turning and darting off, certain he’ll he be right on your heels.

As you race to where you hid the new catcher, the forest blurring around you— a lightness fills your chest. Soft and fluttering, like you’ll float away if you stand still for too long.

✶ a/n : hi!! i hope everyone enjoys this chapter, it was very fun to write! they are so cute… little besties.

When you relent and lock eyes, his fingers form the signs for “animal” and “left” in quick succession.

Your eyes dart left, pulse jumping as you follow the line of his finger. A spark of excitement lights up your chest as a blur of color whizzes past. He signs “follow” and you nod, feet falling in line behind him without hesitation despite your irritation he spotted the tapirus first.

Tacky mud squishes between your toes, Neteyam’s tail flicks and hits your hip accidentally. He’s taller, forcing you to stare at the back of his head while he leads. Neteyam freezes mid-step and you skid to a stop, barely avoiding a collision.

You peer around his shoulder, excitement snuffing out the annoyance.

There, at the base of a cheadle plant, snuffling about for vegetation, is the target.

Slowly, you step around Neteyam, reaching into your woven pouch. The rope tangles around your shaking fingers as you ease it out, eyes fixed ahead. You inch forward, careful not to disturb the forest floor.

By your side, Neteyam moves silent and catlike.

The tapirus stills. You lean in, thighs coiling tight—

Neteyam pounces.

You spring into action, closing the remaining distance in a heartbeat.

“Hold it still!” You shout, stumbling over rocks and plants, leaping to Neteyam as he wrestles the tapirus.

“What does it look like I am doing!” He yells. Neteyam suddenly flips the tapirus on its side, eyes wide and searching. You drop to your knees, fingers fumbling with the rope as the animal thrashes, dirt flying.

The animal squeals once the knot is tied, its fiery spirit finally accepting defeat.

You sink to your heels, chest heaving, sweat prickling your skin. Neteyam is no better, bent over on hands and knees, head low as he struggles to breathe.

As quietly as a falling leaf, your karyu descends from a tree limb. Several Na’vi children follow his lead, nowhere near as graceful.

“You did well, young ones,” the karyu praises. He turns to the group. “Watch and learn, children!” He calls. “Through teamwork, they tracked and captured the tapirus— and the animal remains unharmed.”

You share a brief, awkward look with Neteyam.

Silently, you agree not to confess you’d never intended to work together at all.

Later, in the communal base of the kelutral, an hour after you’ve been sentenced to weaving baskets with the other Na’vi children— you wince and shake your hands out. The constant repetition creates a deep ache in your knuckles.

You stretch your arms overhead, shoulders and spine popping, and glance around to see if the others have gotten any further. Some of them have finished more than one. You frown, staring down at the halfway threaded basket in your lap like it’s offended you.

It amazes you how swiftly some kids weave.

One of the children sitting beside you, Teylan, crowds in your space, inspecting your basket with a poke and a loud hum.

“Did you weave this blind?” He asks with a laugh, straightening to his original position. “It is awful.”

You shove his shoulder, ears flattening. “Yours looks like it was crushed by an ikran!”

Teylan gapes, a genuine flicker of hurt crossing his face. His chin lifts in defiance. “Oh yeah? Well—”

“Enough,” Neteyam cuts in softly, laser focused on his basket. “We are supposed to be weaving.” His fingers move steadily, never looking up.

You’d completely forgotten he was there.

Teylan hesitates, then huffs and leaves you alone, returning to his weaving. You stick your tongue out when Teylan isn’t looking.

Absently, you reach for another razor palm leaf, then search for your twine on autopilot. You come up empty handed, noticing too late your pile has vanished. Glancing around the group shows all the spare twine has been used.

The dread of having to leave your spot and gather materials vanishes when more twine suddenly appears, dangling in your line of sight.

Your gaze lifts, and you realize Neteyam is offering some of his. He still doesn’t meet your eye, arm outstretched as if he’s patiently waiting for you to take it.

The twine lands in your open palm. Your hands automatically resume threading, cheeks warm as you pretend nothing happened.

There’s only enough to finish another quarter of your basket. You eye Neteyam’s neat pile of twine, fingers itching to snatch more. Lips pressed together, you shrug and reach over for more. He doesn’t say a word, so you figure it’s no big deal.

You finish before Neteyam— who is always careful and patient as he weaves, and sit for a moment with hands sticky from razor palm residue.

Most everyone has completed their share of baskets and dropped them off with the karyu for inspection, free to leave and return to their parents. You could go. You don’t. Instead you linger, using your tewng to wipe your hands clean.

Neteyam stands a moment later, basket tucked under his arm, and you do the same.

You hand over your creation first, heading in the direction of the familiar vine path toward your parents. The sound of soft steps approach, unhurried and even, and your ears lift an inch. Neteyam matches your pace, shoulder to shoulder.

The journey is slow as you hop from vine to vine. Neteyam doesn’t speak, neither do you.

It’s awkward.

Lots of kids take this pathway— laughing and roughhousing and dancing along the woven vines. You’ve walked it so many times you know exactly where Neteyam breaks off on his own. Usually, he doesn’t even look back, light on his feet and arms outstretched for balance as he continues down a more narrow vine.

The turnoff comes, then goes— he never leaves.

Neteyam keeps walking beside you. The large split becomes visible, thick vines twisted and spiraling in different directions.

Together, you reach the end.

Your steps slow, and Neteyam matches you silently. The two of you stop and linger at the split, just standing there. The silence stretches too long and it starts to feel suffocating.

You wonder why he will not leave first, and you sneak a peek at him. He’s fiddling with the edge of his tewng, twisting the fabric with his ears dipped low. His tails swishes behind him a little too fast. Yours does the same.

Neteyam glances up and your gaze darts to your feet. You cross your arms over your chest.

“I—”

“My parents—”

You both speak at once and then freeze, finally locking eyes. Embarrassment burns your cheeks. Neteyam’s ears look darker blue than usual.

The awkwardness pulls the words from your mouth without choice.

“My parents are waiting.” You spin to leave, then hesitate. The word, “bye,” leaves you in a rush, and you refuse to turn around.

You walk swiftly in one direction, smiling and letting Neteyam’s soft spoken “bye!” linger in your head the entire way home.

✶ word key :

tapirus : a small, docile pig-like creature on pandora.

kelutral : the hometree

cheadle plant : it’s a plant

karyu : teacher

✶ a / n : i forgot to put something here… but i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! the next one will be a little more.. interesting. higher emotional investment and all that— but nothing too crazy yet.

Your tummy twists in an unfamiliar way, palms growing warm, and it confuses you to the point of pretending it doesn’t exist. “Now what?” You ask, the burn of string against your fingertips growing unbearable quickly.

“There’s a fish hiding behind that rock.” He tilts your aim by a few inches, then steps back. “Breathe in—” He waits for your next big breath. “Hold it… Now breathe out and let the arrow go.”

It skims the surface of the rock, barely missing the fish. You gasp and glance at the boy in shock, a giddy smile growing on your face. “Did you see? I almost got it!” You spin fully, tail swishing in excitement.

He grins, a small giggle escaping. “Good shot!”

Your spine straightens and your chin lifts, confidence puffing your chest. “I’m going to get the next—”

“Neteyam!” Someone cries, panic etched in their voice.

A younger boy sporting similar features to Neteyam bursts through the tree line and stumbles to a stop before the riverbank. “It’s almost eclipse— dad is going to be so mad!” He continues, face pinched in distress.

In your mind the name clicks into place— Neteyam.

Neteyam frowns at the other boy. “Lo’ak you skxawng!” He marches out of the water and straight over to Lo’ak, pinching his ear. “Where were you?”

Lo’ak hisses, batting Neteyam’s hand. “I was with Spider,” he mumbles, rubbing his sore ear and scowling up at his brother.

With a shake of his head, Neteyam grabs Lo’ak by the scruff of his neck and spins him, pushing him forward. “Let’s go. We have to hurry.”

He throws a look at you over his shoulder and waves, then disappears before you return the goodbye. You blink a few times, processing the whirlwind of a moment.

It’s quiet once more, and your thoughts shift to focus on your bow and arrow. You retrieve the discarded arrows, debating whether to practice more or not. Tucking them safely into their holder you decide it’s best to go home, too.

Your mom and dad will be mad if you stay gone for too long. You wince thinking of the impending lecture you’ll receive if it’s after eclipse when you return.

Dealing with them when they’re mad is the last thing you want to do.

The next morning, at the stream, Neteyam is there.

And the day after that.

You quit being surprised a week in.

It’s not always at the same time. Some days it’s when the world wakes, as the sun rises above the horizon and chases off the darkness. Before the chill of the night fades entirely and all the Omatikaya warriors head out on a hunt.

Others days, it’s late. When the stones have been warmed by the sun and you stand on them for far too long because it’s soothing like a hug.

You never really speak to one another, content to practice in silence. Neteyam makes a target at some point so you follow his lead. He pretends he’s not glancing over everytime you shoot to check your aim, and it’s annoying even when you’re doing the exact same.

More often than not, Neteyam’s shot lands closer to the center of his target than yours does, and that really gets under your skin.

His siblings orbit around him every now and then, and you put on an irritated expression— but the sounds of their voices and laughter reminds you of home.

One afternoon Neteyam doesn’t show.

You decide you don’t care, because it’s not Neteyam you miss. You don’t even like him.

It’s the fact that it’s boring trying all alone.

Half the session is spent checking over your shoulder, despite ordering your brain not to. Your body does not listen. Arrows end up scattered, lost and further away from the target than ever before. You give up when the frustration mounts, boiling and overflowing until your jaw is clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

You do get in trouble for losing so many arrows, and you’re tasked with crafting new ones as punishment.

There’s a communal fire that evening, filled with laughter and food and dancing. Neteyam is there, of course— he’s the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son.

He catches your gaze, giving you nothing other than a small smile. You scoff and roll your eyes, slumping on the ground against an old tree stump.

Who cares, you convince yourself, fiddling with the tip of your tail, keeping your stare glued to it as if the hair could hide you.

You’re entirely aware of him on the other side of the fire, and it sits heavy in your chest.

The Olo’eyktan gives a small encouraging speech as the fire dwindles and most children are being ushered to sleep for the night. You sigh, dragging out the moment until your parents come for you.

Suddenly Neteyam sinks to the ground beside you. You glance at him, drawing your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Neteyam mimics the awkward position, elbow brushing yours.

There’s a loud peel of laughter, and the fire crackles in the background. You press your lips together, wondering why he’s here. The quiet stretches and the moment bloats with awkwardness until finally you blurt—

“Why didn’t you show up?” You peek at Neteyam, locking eyes briefly as surprise flickers over his face.

“I did not know you cared.”

Your gaze darts to your knees, hot embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “I don’t.”

“Oh.”

Neteyam says nothing after that, and neither do you. Sitting side by side until you’re both called in different directions, refusing to look at one another.

Neteyam’s at the stream the next time you go for practice.

When you nod awkwardly at each other in greeting, the strange twist in your belly returns— the fluttery one from the other day.

As the silence remains, Neteyam’s actions speak for themselves.

✶ a / n : hope you all enjoyed the very beginning of neteyam and readers childhood friendship! love to hear thoughts and predictions!! it’s short, i know, but i’m trying something new.

i tried to tag everyone, but it wouldn’t work for every blog— sorry!