#jakesully

You observed the Metkayina that gathered around the fire, your father listening intently as an old man reanimated the story of how he narrowly escaped the bite of an Akula many years ago. The men gathered around the man as he spoke and laughed loudly when he finished.

On the opposite side of the fire sat Kiri, a girl who had recently arrived in Awa’atlu a few weeks ago with her father. She was not like you. She was Omatikaya, forest Navi. Despite her thin arms and flimsy tail, she was beginning to fit in here. She could hold her breath for long periods, was picking up your sign language and was interested in life on the reef. Her transition seemed fairly smooth, at least for someone who has been ripped from her home and was being hunted by sky people. 

Her father on the other hand, did not seem to mesh so completely with life here. Jake Sully has become a friend to you in these past few weeks. You had felt pity for him and taught him the smaller things that Tonowari and the others wouldn’t have time for. 

You had taught him to hold his breath and where the best spots were to find oysters and crabs. You had shown both Jake and Kiri to weave tight baskets the Metkayina way so that water did not drip through. Jake had improved greatly in integrating into the clan, and each day he became more comfortable in the water. 

Although he was getting better, he had earned a title among the Metkayina hunters “Pìsaw”, meaning clumsy. He was a better warrior in the sky than in the ocean. You would see him and Kiri circling over the village sometimes on their Ikrans. They would go loops and race each other, waving down below when they spotted you. He had promised you a ride one day soon.

A boy Kiri’s age, Rotxo, sat next to her and they both worked to create bead bracelets and armbands. They laughed together and it brought a lightness to your heart to see the teenagers have a moment of happiness.

Kiri looked up to meet your gaze and she waved a hand in greeting. You smiled wider and lifted a hand in return. 

“Look,” yelped one of the girls sitting across from you. “They are finally back from the hunt,” she giggled. Nearly everyone in the group turned to look as the last wave of hunters arrived back from a long day of fishing. Six young men waltzed up to your group with their catches in one hand and their weapons slung over their shoulders. 

You stood up to receive the onslaught of fish, there looked to be 11 more to clean and gut. 

You greeted the head of the group who handed you his share. “I see that the ocean was favorable today, Na’ran,” you said.

“I am sorry we arrived late, but we kept finding more fish.” He grinned in pride as the others handed you their catches and you handed them off to the girls to start on. 

“No matter,” you nodded.

Even as the others dispersed into the crowd, Na’ran stood to the side as you finished giving the fish to the women. You ignored him and went to sit back down but Na’ran stopped you by placing a hand on your elbow. He pulled you a step away as if he did not want anyone hearing what he had to say.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have been helping JakeSuli? I would have instructed him if I knew he was bothering you.” Na’ran chided. The other girls sat back down to continue their job and the last of the men dissolved into the crowd to find friends and food.

“I did not tell you because he is not bothering me. He is my friend,” you corrected, your brow lowering at his odd question. Na’ran had been intent on you since you got your first tattoo. He did not understand that you were not interested, despite the many times you denied him.

He laughed and your lips curled into a frown. “Surely you do not want a man who is clueless like a child. He is a skxawng,” he mocked.

“He is not a skxawng, you are. Who else would dare insult Toruk Makto? You were merely a child when he gathered the clans against the sky people. He is learning a completely new way after leaving his life behind, of course it is hard for him. I am helping him, he is not after me as you say,” you snarled. You wouldn't dare get your hopes up over his words.

“You too were a child yet his eye is surely cast upon you. Do you choose not to see the signs?” he asked. 

“You forget, I am older than you. If it is as you say, then perhaps I would prefer a man who does not still cling to his mothers leg,” you hissed.

“Do not let JakeSuli be your downfall, Tsahik’ite,” he warned. His eyes were narrowed and calculating. “He will pull us all down with him.”

Over Na’ran’s shoulder you saw Jake’s figure emerge from the tree line after arriving back from a hunt. Your smile started to reform on your face as he spotted you. His eyes danced when he grinned like a boy and held up his catch. He extended four large fish strung together on a thick line. 

“Well our downfall has caught more fish than you.” You prodded.

Na’ran’s mouth formed a tight grimace before he said, “he got lucky.” 

“Eywa has smiled on Jake, he is Metkayina now. Do not speak of it again,” you established, turning away from him as Jake walked over to you. Na’ran left in a huff and Jake observed him storm off with his strange, hair covered brow low on his forehead.

Jake turned back to you and smiled, “Hey sweetheart, where should I put these?” His voice was deep with an odd accent that was so uniquely Jake. 

“They go in the baskets,” you replied with a smile, “did you catch all these?” You asked, impressed.

Jake’s ears raised and he bobbed his head once, “yeah, I did.” 

You could tell from the way he carried himself that he was proud tonight. His pride was completely different from Na’ran’s. Jake was proud because he proved himself a little more to the clan and was carving out a home for himself and his daughter. Na’ran was proud because he had an unwarranted swagger and confidence that did not always befit his actions. He felt he was entitled to things because he was strong in stature, but his inner strength was brutish and inconsistent. He was not fit to be a leader, even you could see it.

Jake dropped his fish in the basket that you had pointed to. “You are earning a place here. We are glad for you… I am glad for you,” you clarified. Tsireya inconspicuously lifted her eyes to watch the interaction. 

Jake lowered himself to sit on his haunches and you followed him down to sit with your legs crossed as you were before. “A few fish are all it takes to earn a place?” He asked, possibly teasing. 

“No, but feeding the people helps. For my father, the worst offense is being useless. A dead limb will be cut off.” You explained, picking up a fish to start cleaning it. 

“Then why don’t you give me a job to do? Let me help,” he said, looking down at your hands to watch you use your knife. 

“Toruk Makto has gotten back from a long day of hunting, you should eat and rest.” You pointed out. 

“Toruk Makto isn’t here, I am. Let me help you.” He repeated, gesturing to your hands. 

You sighed and looked at Tsireya, but she just shrugged. “Fine,” you muttered, “do you have a knife?” He cheekily reached up to his chest and patted the black knife with a woven fiber covering the handle. You should have known better than to ask.

“Good, sit.” You ordered, reaching into a basket beside you and pulling out another fish. You ran him through the process and he caught on quickly. He had clearly done this before, but you said nothing about it as he let you teach him. 

You grinned when you looked up to see a silver scale clinging to his cheek near the corner of his mouth. “You have a… I will get it.” You said, gently peeling it off of his face and flicking into the sand. He froze in place, eyes locked on you before he swallowed thickly. 

“A scale,” you explained, eyes darting away from his. You busied your hands with your work and out of the corner of your eye you saw him do the same. The night air was filled with laughter from around the fire and the songs of the village. The breeze brought in a coolness that staved off the balmy heat. 

Tsireya cleared her throat obnoxiously and caught your attention. She nodded her head in your fathers direction and you looked up to see him staring at Jake’s back with a quizzical expression.

It was not completely uncommon to see a warrior of Jake's status sitting on the ground gutting fish, but not normal. Considering he had worked hard all day and put his life in some danger, for him to come home and sit here with you was odd. You turned back to the task in your hands, glad Tonowari did not catch you looking at him. He was undoubtedly still watching and wondering why he was helping you do such a mundane, mindless task.

“Can I ask you a question Jake?” You said boldly, having been too afraid to ask up until now. 

“Yeah sweetheart,” He said, glancing up to look at you with those eyes that felt so magnetic.

“I have not wanted to upset you by asking before, but I am curious. What happened to Kiri’s mother? Why is your mate not with you?” You asked softly, not wanting to sadden him if there was a tragic story.

His lips lifted up at the corners and your feelings of hesitancy turned to embarrassment. You sounded as if you were fishing for information so you could move in for the kill. You pursed your lips and tried to stop your face from portraying your embarrassment.

Jake just shook his head slightly and said, “ I adopted Kiri, I have no mate. Her mother was a good friend of mine, but she died. The father isn’t… he… well I don’t know about the father.” Jake explained, choosing his words carefully. 

“You chose her to be your daughter.” You said out loud, verbally processing the news you were receiving. “That is honorable.” You liked that he would be a good enough person to take in an infant girl. 

“I am the closest thing to a family she had.” He replied as if that simply explained his generosity. 

“Ronal adopted me in a way. She was not Tonowari’s first mate. My mother died when I was a child, although I had just completed my first trial with my spirit sister then. Ronal stepped up as Tsahik when the mourning period was over and a union was made. She has helped raise me since. I owe her much. Likewise, Kiri will not forget your kindness.” You said, picking up the last fish from the basket and making quick work of it. 

Jake hands his fish to Tsireya who is smirking quietly to herself. “I didn’t know that about you.” He angled his head to the right and fixed his attention on you. “So you’re way older than your siblings, huh?”

“Yes, I am nearly double Tsireya’s age.” You smile “while we are far in years, we are close in spirit.” You said, handing the fish off to be gutted. Tsireya beamed shyly at your words and you grinned back. 

He nodded in thought, watching you carefully as you interacted with your sister.

“Come, let us find Kiri so you can tell us of your hunt.” You encouraged, grabbing his hand that wasn’t holding his knife and pulling him to his feet. He stumbled after you, laughing as you walked on bouncing feet to Kiri and Roxto.

“Hello ‘eylans.” you grinned, sitting down beside Kiri and pulling Jake to sit with you. He plopped down and grunted at the action. “Careful old man,” you teased. Kiri giggled and Rotxo shook his head with a smile.

“I’m not even 40,” Jake grumbled, but reached over to gently tug his daughter's tail. 

“Hey!” Kiri exclaimed, taking her tail in her grasp as if to protect it.

“My bad, baby girl. How was your day?” he asked. 

Kiri relaxed and started to tell you about what she had been getting up to with Rotxo and Tsireya. You all talked until the horn blew to signal that the evening meal was ready. 

You parted ways to eat with your family and headed to the beach after dinner to watch the sun set. On your way out, you passed by Jake on the way to the sandy beach and said “Goodnight Jake. You were not useless tonight.”. 

He turned from the man he was talking to to reply “Good night.” You felt his gaze on you as you walked away from them. You felt like you could hardly think straight with him around. 

You made your way down to the ocean, towards your favorite cove that was tucked away from the rest of the world. 

You sat on a smooth rock and dipped your feet in the briny water. The ocean washed all things clean, it cleared your thoughts and took the pressure off of your lungs. Tonight you perched under Pandora’s moons and tried not to think of Jake. 

A few days later you sat in your family's marui working on beadwork. You were crafting a green arm cuff for Kiri thinking she might like the design that was so similar to Tsireya's and many of the other young girls in Awa'atlu. You tied up a row when you heard a commotion outside like people faintly yelling. You paused and waited to see if you heard anything again. You were about to turn back to your work thinking it was in your head, when Aonung ran through the opening. 

“Sister come, you will want to see this,” he panted before turning and dashing out again. 

“Eywa help me,” you muttered, dropping everything to the floor before following after him. 

Outside, a group of people were gathered on the beach looking towards where Tonowari and Ronal stood looking slightly down in front of them. You weaved through the masses, gently excusing yourself and sliding past people to make it to the front. 

The Olo'eyktan and Tashik stood with their feet in the water. Kneeling before them were Jake and Na’ran, each on one knee in the sand. Both men were bleeding, Jake had scratches across his chest and one down his cheek while the left side of Na’ran’s face and the right side of his stomach were red and swollen. His lip was bleeding and it dribbled down his neck. 

Kiri stood behind her father with her arms wound tightly around herself. You came up beside her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She placed her hand over top of yours and looked at you with worry riddled eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” You demanded, looking to Tonowari expectantly. Jake’s head swiveled around at your voice and winced when he saw you. You tried to catch his gaze, but he quickly turned back to the water.

“Na’ran has charged Toruk Makto with attacking him beyond the reef.” The Olo'eyktan stated, stabbing his staff into the sand. Jake hung his head back and glared at the sky. 

Attacking Na’ran? That did not sound like Jake. He had been trying to keep a low profile here, at least for Kiri’s sake. He did not want to cause waves during their time in Awa’atlu.

“Stand, both of you,” Tonowari ordered and both men immediately got up with sand dusting their legs. “Did anyone witness this action?” Ronal called out to the people. 

A man named Relok stepped forward. He was a well respected warrior and on your fathers council. Whatever he said would be true. “I did, Tsahik,” he called.

“Speak and be heard.” Tonowari instructed.

“JakeSuli did not attack without cause. Na’ran brought offense to the Olo'eyktan’s oldest daughter,” He explained. Your stomach sank at the indication that this was about you. Kiri's hand tightened around yours at the news.

“In what manner?” Tonowari demanded. 

The man hesitated, “he spoke of things I will not repeat to a woman’s father. JakeSuli did attack him, but it was in defense of her.” Tonowari nodded grimly and Ronal scowled down at Na’ran. He simply looked annoyed at being caught.

“Daughter! Come forward,” your father beckoned you to come stand beside him.

You hesitantly slipped away from Kiri, hating to leave her alone. You walked around Jake to reach your parents. 

“Father,” you greeted quietly. 

“Did you know of this exchange?” He asked.

“No, I did not know,” you admitted truthfully.

Ronal circled the two men before turning to the crowd that had gathered. “Leave us!” she demanded to the group of onlookers. The people scattered like ants.

“Dad?” Kiri asked hesitantly. 

“It's alright, babygirl. Go find your friends.” Jake said, offering her an encouraging smile. “You know I can get into trouble sometimes, it will be okay.” he nodded. 

Kiri looked at you then and it took you a second to realize she was waiting on your approval as well. She was afraid to leave her dad. “I got him, Kiri. It's okay.” You reiterated. She nodded hesitantly before slinking off after the others. She cast one last look over her shoulder before disappearing into the village.

It was now just your parents, the two men being interrogated, and Relok who stood on the beach now.

“Na’ran, explain yourself.” Tonowari instructed. Your father was clearly trying to see all sides of the story, but your stomach twisted at the thought of Jake getting in trouble on your account. You could not bear the thought of him and Kiri leaving just when you were getting to know them.

“I was having a private conversation with a fellow hunter when JakeSuli confronted me. He told me to stop talking and called me many skypeople words. When I laughed at his strange language, he grew angrier and hit me. I only defended myself,” Na’ran explained to the chief. 

You looked to Jake, only to see him already looking at you. His gaze was steady and apologetic. His unbound locs hung down around his shoulders, dripping water still from being out at sea.

“Tell me plainly, what was said about my daughter?” Tonowari demanded, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I was joking, Olo’eyktan. It was not truthful,” the hunter pleaded.

“Tell us!” Ronal snapped, stepping closer to where Na’ran stood. He flinched at the sharp bite in her voice. 

“I said that she must be kelfpomron to lower herself so greatly by befriending a demon. A tawtute will never be one of the people, no matter the skin they wear.” He spat, his eyes narrowing in Jake’s direction. “It makes one question how close the two are. She acts as if she wants him to mate with her.” Na’ran turned his burning, hateful eyes to glare at you.

Jake hissed at him. 

Ronal’s eyes snapped to you, nearly looking disgusted. Your face and neck felt as if they were on fire. Your arms wrapped around your middle.

“Is this true? Is that what was said?” Tonowari asked Relok who nodded in confirmation.

“JakeSuli, what is your defense?” Tonowari asked, his grip tight on your shoulder. 

“I shouldn’t have let my anger run away from me, but he slighted your daughter who has been kind to Kiri and I since we arrived. I couldn't let her be insulted.” He explained calmly, but you saw the worry behind his eyes.

“I see,” Tonowari thought through his words before he spoke. “And you care for my daughter?” He added. 

Jake's head reared back slightly in surprise, as did yours. “Sempul!” you gasped and turned to fully face Tonowari. Ronal narrowed her eyes at your reaction.

Tonowar raised a hand as if to pause you from continuing. “Let him answer,” he demanded, watching Jake like a Ikran stalking prey. Your mother circled around the men again, looking at their varying facial expressions just as closely.

You lifted a hand to your face and nervously covered your neck in anticipation of his answer. Jake met your gaze and clenched his jaw at your expression. You felt as if he was pouring every thought and feeling into you. His anger at Na’ran, his fear of being cast out, his regret for feeling that he was embarrassing you, but also his soft heart when it came to the Olo’ektan’s daughter.

Jake tore his gaze from you and his eyes moved back to Tonowari. He nodded once as he said “Yes, I do.” His voice was firm.

Tonowari’s grip on you loosened as your eyes widened. You involuntarily felt the corners of your mouth want to tilt up into a smile but stamped down the urge. Tonowari turned to face the ocean, his back now facing you. You could hear the deep, steadying breath he took as his fists clenched and unclenched. 

Ronal rounded on Jake, but he did not back down from her gaze. “Skypeople are hunting you, and now you wish to court our daughter. You bring danger at every turn, Jakesuli. Eywa help us,” she cried. Jake finally lowered his head as if the weight of her words pressed down on him.

Na’ran was fighting a smirk at the Tsahik agreeing with him and it angered you. You would not let them speak ill of Jake, especially after he defended you so thoroughly. 

You moved away from your father to stand beside Jake. As you approached, you reached out a hand for him and he reached back. You gripped his hand tightly in yours and faced off with your mother. His extra finger felt strange in your grip, but it served as a reminder of the very real stakes at play. 

“The tawtute are the danger, not Jake. He is Na’vi just as you and I, yet your fear blinds you. He defeated them once, and he will do what is necessary to keep us safe again. I stand by him,” you objected. You felt his hand squeeze yours.

Tonowari finally turned back to you all. His face was stoney, but his jaw clenched at the sight of your interlocked hands. 

“Toruk Makto, my daughter is right. Fear clouds my eyes. Fear for my people, fear for my family, fear for my children…” he ground out. Your heart sank at his vulnerability. He was a good father and a good leader. He did not deserve to lead in such a tenuous time, but you could think of no one better to do it. Sensing your distress, Jake’s thumb swiped a line back and forth on your hand.

Tonowari was not done, “But you are a good man, Toruk Makto. You led the clans to victory. You will protect my daughter, I know that in my heart,” he relented. Your fathers eyes softened as his gaze caught yours. 

Na’ran hissed at the Olo’eyktan’s words and stalked up to you and Jake. “Wiya! You turn the people against me! I told you he would be your downfall and you mock me! Why do you not heed my warnings?” he was now standing directly in front of you.

“Because they are not true!” you insisted. Na’rans nostrils flared as he attempted to step even closer. Jake dropped your hand and cut him off by stepping in his path so that he could not get to you.

“Stay away from her,” Jake growled, now chest to chest with Na’ran. 

“Enough!” Tonowari thundered. All eyes turned to him as he looked at each of you. His lips pursed before he turned to Na’ran. 

“You have a choice, Na’ran te Panung Kw’lin’itan,” Na’ran’s shoulders tensed and he finally stepped back from Jake. “You have hunted these waters since you were born and I would not tear you from them without just cause, but you stir trouble in the hearts of the young people. You provoke and you insult my daughter and JakeSuli. You will apologize and make peace, or you will leave your home to never return.” 

“I will not stay where I am doomed to die for a vrrtep!” Na’ran spat. 

Tonowari nodded, “Relok, please escort Na’ran to gather his things and bring him back here,” Tonowari instructed. 

Relok nodded and grabbed Na’ran’s arm to drag him to clean out his Marui. Na’ran sent you one last nasty glare before leaving the beach.

Tonowari stepped forward and came to stand in front of Jake. Tonowari’s height was imposing over his stature, but he did not balk. Tonowari seized him up once again before turning to you. “I think I know the answer, daughter, but I will ask. Do you care for JakeSuli?” Your father asked, turning to you.

You sucked in a breath and turned to Jake who was already looking to you for your reaction. The skin between his brows was wrinkled in concern for your answer, but you smiled and it eased. You placed a hand around Jake’s bicep before you said, “With all of my heart,” you replied. 

Tonowari nodded once in confirmation before looking to his Tsahik. Ronal did not look happy. “You would not be my choice for my daughter, JakeSuli,” she admitted.

“I know,” Jake acknowledged softly. 

“But my husband says you are a good man. I see Eywa’s hand in this, but I do not have to like it.” she grumbled, nodding to Tonowari.

“Oel ngati kameie,” Tonowari said, bringing his fingers to his forehead in the gesture used to accompany the words.

Jake’s shoulder sagged in relief as he returned the gesture. “Oel ngati kameie, Tonowari,” Jake responded. 

Tonowari turned to you, “Oel ngati kameie, Ma'ite.” 

A smile lit up your face, “Oel ngati kameie, Sempu,” you answered.

You can continue the story with Part 2!

Yay! My first Jake Sully fic is complete! I would love to write more for Jake and maybe more for this story because they're so cute! Let me know if you would like that! Requests are open too. 

The day had gone by like any other day in the Omiticaya clan, besides the whispers and congratulations thrown around towards the Sully family, but none of them came from you. You felt bad that you hadn't seen the eldest Sully son all day; you'd basically spent every moment of daylight together, but today was different. Not only was it his birthday, but it was the day you would finally tell him how you felt about him. It scared you to even think of his face. His stupid, handsome face.

You tugged at your skin atop your collarbone as you begged for your mind to focus on the salve in front of you rather than the dread of the possible rejection you could face tonight. Your plan was simple, really simple, and a tad suspiciously too planned. You'd spent most of the day by the river, just outside the village, collecting the tiniest iridescent shells on the outskirts of the water. Picking up only the ones that you thought he would like. When you'd finally arrived back in your own pod, you had exhaled anxiously, but grateful your family wasn't there tonight. They knew how much you liked him. Eywa, the whole village seemed to know at this point. The way you looked at him, the way you always listened intently to everything he said, the way you seemed to reboot every time his hands touched yours. And this only caused your 2 older brothers (and Lo'ak) to tease you relentlessly. You had crushed the shells into small, sand-like sizes, mixing them with a bit of salve that smelt like the flowers commonly found on trees around the village, which Neteyam had brought you the night before. You stood in the corner of your home pod, rubbing your hands against your skin, praying to Ewya that the salve would dry soon, leaving your skin with small iridescent markings along your stripes. Among the salve prayers, you hoped he felt the same. A part of you thought it was possible. A sickeningly hopeful part of you. He would always walk beside you in the village, following you towards the rivers. He hunted with you, always a step forward with his arm flicking in front of you at every noise he didn't recognise. He would bring you your favourite fruits or flowers every night, wishing you sweet dreams, and every time, a grin would fill his face as he said, 'But then you'd have to dream of me.' It really wasn't fair anymore. You didn't know if all those moments were something deeper, or just you hoping they meant something to him, the way they meant something to you. Which is why you now stood in the village, face tinted a warm purple as you looked around the fire. Na'vi danced around the fire, children ran between them giggling, and some warriors scattered, sitting on the floor, rehashing their hunting stories. And yet, you didn't stand close enough to join in on the celebrations. You couldn't. To put it lightly, you were nervous. Your hands shook slightly while you played with the edge of your loincloth that clung to your hips, waiting to hear a familiar voice or see a familiar face somewhere in the crowd. This is pathetic, really. You thought as you stood. He probably doesn't care that he hasn't seen you today-

"Hey, Sevin (pretty)." You quickly turned around to find him standing right behind you. Close. So close you could see the illumination of his freckles across his muscles. You swallowed.

"Hey.." you smiled more shyly than usual. " I haven't seen you all day," he pointed out, his voice warm, taking another step closer. This time, reaching out to hold your forearm in his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," you exhaled. It was pointless trying to think of an excuse. You couldn't tell him that you had spent the entire day pacing around the river just to look nice for him. That you spent hours convincing yourself that you could tell him. Hoping that when he saw your skin sparkle, he could possibly mistake it for an actual spark.

He reached his other hand towards your collarbone, his calloused fingers dragging across the bone gently as he traced your bioluminescent freckles that were covered in smaller pieces of glitter, which reflected a different shade of light every time your chest moved with your lungs. He noticed instantly that you had painted the highlights of your body with your salve. He always did. And he knew you only ever did it when you felt that a special moment deserved it or simply wanted to feel prettier. Not that you need it, he always thought, but he would be lying if he said it didn't make you look more ethereal than normal. His heart quickened its pace, but his face didn't show it. Only a pleased, thoughtful grin plastered his face as he spoke, "For me?"

You scoffed. Terribly. Even you could tell it was fake. "No. For me". It wasn't entirely a lie. Yes, you hoped he would think you looked pretty, but a part of you felt better knowing that he liked it. A part of you hoped he knew that it was for him. And that part of you was needed if you were going to bring up the courage to tell him anything tonight.

He shook his head, displeased, but his smile never faultered "It better be for me if it's staining my fingers tonight". Your poor heart couldn't take it anymore. Not his tender voice, not his tender fingers that burned your skin, not his tender eyes that never looked away from you.

You grabbed his arm, firm but gently, and dragged him away. You could hear his quiet, amused laugh behind you, but you paid too much attention to the sound of your own heart that jumped to the rhythm of his voice. You didn't know why you brought him outside the pods of your homes. The only thing you wanted right now was privacy, and considering the time of night and the burning fires deeper in the village, you figured everyone was dancing there, leaving their homes unattended. If you had to walk all the way into the forest now, you were scared you would convince yourself not to tell him anything at all.

"Sevin, what are you doing?" he spoke gently, curiosity slipping off his voice, syrupy slow. This is it. You turned to face him."I- I wanted to tell you. For the longest time. I really did, but then I was scared, and you.. Well, you being you, always confident. It's not easy, okay!" You spoke so fast that you forgot to take breaths in between your words. Searching his eyes for some sort of recognition at your words, your almost confession, but you found nothing but amusement.

"So you're telling me something today? For my birthday?" he looked calm. Too calm, and it irritated you how much you had to say tonight.

"Yes," you didn't know what more to say. "Happy birthday?.." Okay, maybe not that. You could see he was expecting more, confusion, and entertainment in his eyes. Speaking wasn't working, and before he could continue, you did the only other thing you've ever wanted to do.

You kissed him.

His eyes widened at the touch. Not quite registering what was happening. You didn't know how long he wanted to do this himself. He noticed that your voice was shaky tonight, and he hoped you would finally tell him how you felt. He knew. But he never wanted to rush you. And truthfully, he enjoyed making you blush every time he leaned in too close, every time his tail brushed your thigh, every time he told you that you were beautiful, but he never expected you to be the one to kiss him. The way both your hands rested on the sides of his face, the slight tremble in them, noticeable, only melted him, while your tail wrapped itself around his thigh. You pulled back quickly, regretful. He didn't move when you kissed him. Maybe you were wrong. Your thoughts shattered as he stepped forward, following your lips like a viperwolf cub, eyes full of something you couldn't name. Your heart hammered fast. But as he leaned down, that's when you noticed it. Behind his shoulder, his family. Right at the entrance of their pod. Every single Sully stood eyes wide, staring right at you. You placed your hand quickly on his chest as you breathed his name. He turned himself around, following your widened gaze. He stiffened quickly, "shit.."

"Surprise?.." Lo'ak finally broke the quiet. Lifting his arms in mockery, with a small, awkward smile on his face. Mortified. That is what you felt. Not only had you kissed Neteyam, but you did it with his family watching. The only thing that kept your heart from fully falling out of your chest was how Neteyam chased to kiss you again. You didn't know what to do. So you tried to run. Very stupid. Very much impossible when Neteyam grabbed your arm, keeping you in place. His pupils took up most of the space in his eyes, his smile sickly sweet with a glint of mischief, as he turned back to his family with no words. Neytiri breathed out slowly, nodded once, and spoke, "Finally". That was all she said as she turned back into the pod, a small, barely noticeable smile on her face. Your heart lightened. If the whole village knew about your crush on the eldest Sully boy, then his family probably did too. Jake grinned, ear to ear, "Took you two long enough", he said before following his mate inside. You blushed a dark purple, looking down at your feet. Neteyam leaned closer, and your ears twitched as you felt his breath. Your confidence slipped away, morphing you back into your usual shy self. "Come with me."

Guys this is my first Avatar post eeeeeek!!! Let me know what you think!!! Written for pandora in bloom writing event by @junebugonjupiter!

Prompt 25: happy birthday

Learning to ride an ikran, we call 'em banshees, is the test every young hunter has to pass. But to do that, you gotta go where the banshees are.

The climb is brutal. My fingers burn with every grasp of the coarse, slick vines. The cliffs loom above me, endless. Below is just sky and certain death.

The wind howls past, dragging my braids behind me, slicing cold across my skin, whispering warnings in every gust.

I glance down. Jake grunts a few feet below, sweat beading on his brow, jaw clenched. "I'm gonna fall before we even get to the dangerous part." he mutters.

"Keep climbing." Tsu'tey calls down. His voice crisp, unbothered. His silhouette is certain, fluid. Moving like the mountain was carved for him.

Jake and I climb, not like Na'vi, like outsiders. Strong sure, but clumsy. We're used to metal gym floors, not vine draped cliffs and sheer wind tunnels. Our bodies are strong in this form, but the mountain demands more than muscle. It demands grace.

I grit my teeth and continue the climb anyway.

By the time I reach the top, my arms tremble, lungs burning. I haul myself over the ledge and collapse onto the stone, chest heaving.

The Hallelujah Mountains —Ayawa Ikran stretch out in all different directions before me, surreal and sacred. The waterfall spills into the open sky. Wind curls around us like a spirit.

Neytiri ululates as she lands beside us with her ikran, her face calm.

Then I see them, ikrans.

Massive. Primal. Wild.

Talons grip the stone. Wings twitch, ready to launch. Eyes gleaming with warning. They watch me, waiting.

"Which Sully will go first?" Tsu'tey asks, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

I glance at Jake, "I guess I can do it."

"You go alone," Neytiri says softly. "They must choose you."

I move through them slowly. Careful. Each step calculated.

One by one, the ikran's screech and take off, wings cracking the air. Until only one remains.

It outstretches it's wings in defence. I lock eyes with it.

It's body glows a deep teal, lightning-like orange streaks webbing across its back and it's wing like etched fire. Sky-blue tips shimmer like sharpened glass. Crimson flashes at it's joints like exposed muscle.

It's face is carved from steel blue bone. Coppery red beak. Gold eyes fixated on me.

I remembered what Tsu'tey had told me the night he told me the night before, "You will know it picked you... because it will try to kill you."

Then it lunges.

I dive away just in time. It's wing clips me— I slam against a stone, the wind knocked out of me, gasping. Pain shoots through my ribs.

I scramble up, heart pounding, vision spinning.

I swing the lasso.

I miss.

It shrieks, charges.

I roll away, ribs screaming. It slams into me, pinning me down. Talons tear across my arms, sharp, hot pain. Blood spills. The other ikrans scatter, screeching and launching skyward.

I thrash beneath it, trying to free my arms out of its talons. I draw my knees up and kick hard.

I hiss— my first real one.

The sound shocks me.

Tsu'tey's voice thunders from the edge, "Make the bond!"

The beast snarls back, louder, furious.

Tsu'tey throws the replacement lasso. It sails through the air and lands next to my pinned down open hands. Reaching for it I snatch it, loop fast, trying to hold on.

The lasso snaps loose.

It barrels into me, we roll.

Falling off the edge.

"Y/n!" Jake yells.

"Tsahaylu!" Neytiri's voice cuts through the chaos.

Air screams past my ears. Rocks blur. My stomach lurches. We're falling, too fast, too far

Still fighting I claw at it's queue my fingers fumbling, slick with blood. It twists. We spiral.

I grab the tendrils. We connect.

Her panic floods into me like a wave. Her heart pounding like a war drum. Her instincts. Her wings shudder, no control. She's fighting. Thrashing. The panic isn't just hers anymore. It's mine.

We're spiralling together, two creatures locked in one freefall

I try pour calm through the bond— "It's okay. I've got you." I whisper to to her. The wind roars. The ground races up.

Her wings snap open, hard. The air catches. We jolt upward, bodies lurching, but we don't crash.

We rise.

I can feel her, the weight of her wings, the push of the wind under us, the wild rhythm of her heart syncing with mine.

She's still afraid, but she trusts me.

She chose me.

And I chose her.

I did it.

-

The Na'vi say that every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among The People, forever.

"You, are now children of the Omaticaya." Eytukan's voice holds a weight I can almost feel pressing down on me. A slight smile tugs at his lips.

Jake stands to my left, Neytiri beside him. I catch Jake's eyes and offer a small smile. He returns it, grinning like a fool, before mouthing "Oora" and for a moment, it feel like home.

The hands of the Omaticaya rest on my shoulders, strong, steady. Then Tsu'tey's hand settles on me from behind. The weight heavy, real. A quiet pulse of accomplishment stirs within me.

My eyes sweep across the crowd, elders welcome us, children wide eyed with curiosity, no judgement, only acceptance. The kind of acceptance that makes you want to breathe deeper, even when it feels impossible.

The forest darkens, but the celebrations burst into life. Firelight dances on faces and the sounds of children's laughter fills the space between the trees. The Omaticaya dance around the fire as the sounds of drums play.

I get pulled into the dance, the sounds of laughter and cheering from the other Na'vi as they watch me join them. The rhythm pounds beneath my skin, and I mimic the graceful moves of the women around me, knowing I stumble but letting the joy wash over me anyways.

A laugh bubbles up, light. My gaze flickers toward the treeline. Neytiri and Jake slip away, vanishing into the shadows, away from the fire, away from the attention.

I don't follow, don't ask questions, paying no mind to them. Instead I lose myself in the moment, free, moving breathing. It takes me back, back to the cramped shack we called a home, where Tommy and I danced, the air thick with hope and reckless joy.

I remember Tommy spinning Jakes wheelchair, Jake cursing him out and laughing, all of us tangled in a mess of life and love.

Tommy would've loved this night. I can see him practicing the steps, waiting for the right moment to shine.

Slowly I drift away from the fire, away from the celebration. Away from The People.

Through the glowing flora. To the stream.

Kneeling, I look down at my reflection.

The reflection wavers with the ripples of the stream.

Golden eyes. Blue skin. Stare back at me.

Alien.

I'm starting to forget who I am.

What colour is my skin, after not stepping outside for months in my human body— my real body?

Was my hair longer now? Or was it more matted, considering I've been laying in that pod for months now.

Did I smile like this?

Did my hearing used to be this sharp?

Did I see this clearly?

Didn't my hands feel softer than this?

Did I like the way I looked?

Did I used to breathe this easily... or did I just forget the weight of the mask?

Did I

Did I ever feel this strong before?

Did Jake even notice I stopped asking about her— me.

Did I disappear the moment I didn't wake up?

Did my brain choose to stay here?

Did I choose this deep down?

Did my head always feel this loud when it's quiet?

Did I always wake up not knowing if I was asleep?

Did the headaches start before I stayed too long... or after?

Did I hear a voice in my head that wasn't mine?

Did I used to feel... this far away?

Did I lose myself the moment the bond held longer than it should have?

Did my brain severe the connection?

Did it?

"I don't want to forget." I whisper.

The water reflects grief.

"I don't want to be only this."

Leaves rustle behind me—

Tsutey.

"You look like someone mourning your own celebration."

I say nothing.

He steps forward but doesn't sit, not yet.

"Why me?" The words choke out, directed like a dagger aimed at him.

"Why!" I slap the water, shattering my reflection as tears roll down my face.

Silence.

"I don't even remember my own face," I whisper to myself, shutting my eyes.

I feel Tsu'tey walk beside me before kneeling. "Eywa does not choose lightly. You are meant to be here."

"I didn't ask to be."

"But you are."

He looks at the stream. "Your past lives in you. Not your skin."

His voice is steady. Quiet. Genuine. Not the cocky warrior who called me a demon everyday straight just a month ago.

We sit in silence for a long while, the sounds of distant celebration behind us.

Then he stands and offers you his hand. I don't say anything as we walk back to the hometree together. The firelight illuminating the edge of my sorrows.

This time, as the drums rise again, Tsu'tey does not vanish into the shadows. He stands with me, close, not touching but present.

"You are good at the dance of The People." He says softly trying to cheer me up.

I arch a brow. "You saw me dancing the whole time?"

"I've always seen you." I smile at that happy that he admitted it not knowing the underlying tones of the words that he just uttered.

He smiles. It's small. Barely there, but it's real.

He turns before I can say anything more to him.

I don't chase him, just watch as he moves back to his hunting friends, his stoic expression slips back into place.

Turning back to the celebration the firelight reflects across my face, the warm night bringing every one together.

"I'm one of The People," I whisper.

okay hey im back, my birthdayyyyyy is SOOOONNNNN 24 JUNE🤘🤘🤘🤘😭 anyways it's kinda short, kinda dont care💋 luv ya

NEXT PART OUTTTTT NOW

Taglist:

You are there before the battle. You are there after it, too.

The destruction and death scattered across the land tear you apart from the inside out. Broken Marui, scorched ground, and bodies left behind burn into your memory in a way no data log ever could. When you came to Pandora, it was never meant to end like this. You are here to observe, specifically to study the tulkun, to understand their intelligence, their social bonds, their culture, and the way they coexist with the Metkayina. That is the purpose you arrive with. That is the reason you were sent.

But money-hungry individuals quickly twisted your work into something else. They barely acknowledge the complexity of Tulkun communication or the depth of Na’vi history tied to them. They don’t care about language, lineage, or kinship. All they see is what can be harvested, what can be sold, and what can be turned into power. Your research, meant to protect and preserve, becomes a blueprint for exploitation.

You sort of grow up with the sea.

it feels like your entire life is spent switching in and out of a rapidly aging avatar, constantly monitored to ensure the altered genes develop properly. Your human mind struggles to reconcile the existence of two bodies. They age separately. They absorb completely different environments. One belongs to steel walls and recycled air. The other belongs to open water and endless horizons.

The avatar body is your access point to the world. Without it, you are confined to a floating lab that was meant to be temporary but slowly becomes permanent. Even freedom has limits, though. The base needs power, clean, renewable energy that won’t further damage Pandora. Ocean turbines become the solution, generating enough energy for you and your four other team members to operate and breathe freely.

You are the one who installs them.

With the base positioned far outside the reef, maneuvering the surrounding waters is extremely dangerous for any human. Strong currents, unfamiliar depths, and predators make even short excursions a risk. But you don’t have to worry about that. You exist in an avatar bred specifically for these conditions, an unusual hybrid, designed to survive where humans cannot.

Most of your life is spent aboard ships. You don’t remember Earth at all. What you do know is that you exist in two bodies. One is trapped in a small lab, sustained by machines. The other is free, able to swim, explore, and live. It has never been difficult to know which one you prefer.

You have two childhoods.

They don’t happen at the same time, but your brain stores them as if they do. When you first enter the avatar body, it is six years old. You, however, are already an adult in your human body. Being mentally grown while inhabiting the form of a child is deeply unsettling. Your thoughts don’t match your movements. Your instincts lag behind your understanding. It creates a strange disconnect, almost forcing a kind of regression as your mind adapts to the body rather than the other way around.

Monthly check-ins become routine as the avatar ages at an accelerated rate, one month for every two avatar years, until it eventually reaches full maturity. It is an odd process, one you don’t believe could ever be replicated successfully. But for you, it works.

Your avatar body is not quite Omatikaya, nor fully Metkayina. You have the long limbs of the forest people, but your musculature and nearly fin-like arms are designed for the water. Your tail is thin and elongated, built more for balance than speed underwater. Star-like dustings scatter across your skin, reminiscent of the forest clan, but everything else reads Metkayina. You think you could blend in, at least to some degree.

They removed the extra finger during adolescence.

It is an obvious outlier, and with how much you already stand out, they convince themselves it will help you fit in better. Even though you are not born into this body, you feel the absence immediately. The scar where the finger once was lingers like a phantom ache, making you feel more separate than before. The opposite of what they intend.

But none of that matters anymore.

What matters is that you no longer have a mission, only information. And information is power. You know what the bases are doing; somehow, they have yet to cut your connection to their computers. You know what they are planning. You can help the Na’vi if you can find a way in.

And you already know how.

Jake Sully.

You arrived at the base before he ever did. You hear the stories as they circulate, how he learns their ways, how he trains, how he earns the trust of the Omatikaya and becomes one of them. You watch it unfold from a distance, long before the war forces him into legend. Then he went and did it all over again with the Metkayina.

He is your opening. You are certain of it.

Convincing the other scientists is another matter entirely. In your human body, you are not much younger than them. But they see your avatar as their child. They raised you. They protected you.

And that makes reasoning with them far more difficult than it should be. But you have your ways.

Your nightly routine begins the same way it always does.

You swim as close to the reef as you dare without being noticed, careful to stay just beyond the glow of woven lights. There, you linger, floating and watching. A few Na’vi remain awake at this hour. Some work quietly in the shallows, hands moving with practiced ease as the waves curl around them. Others simply exist in the water, letting the tide carry their thoughts.

Occasionally, a mated pair sits together at the edge of their marui, bodies leaning toward one another, foreheads nearly touching. They do not speak. They do not need to. Their minds drift together, flowing as naturally as the sea beneath them.

You ache for it.

For that kind of belonging. For that kind of connection to the clan, to the earth, to something that is not observation or distance.

Tonight, something is different.

At the very edge of the village, a lone figure sits with his feet in the water. His posture is tense, shoulders slightly hunched, as if the ocean itself is the only thing holding him upright. You hear him before you see him clearly, a low, broken hum carried on the breeze.

You recognize it immediately.

It is a mourning song.

Something flares inside your chest, sharp and unexpected. His face is hidden in the shadows cast by thick, braided dreadlocks, but the sound of him is unmistakably distressed. There is weight in every note, grief pressed deep into the melody. You do not know him yet, not really, but something in you pulls toward him all the same.

For once, you give in.

You move along the edge of the reef, slow and careful, letting the water carry most of your weight. The waves lap gently against the coral walls, rhythmic and steady. You guide yourself with one hand, fingers trailing through the water as you drift closer, listening.

The song grows clearer.

It is beautiful. Aching. But that is not what stops you.

It is the language.

This is not a Metkayina song.

It is a song of the forest people.

Your breath catches.

This is Jake Sully.

Not just a name whispered through the base or passed between scientists with fascination and caution, but him. The one who learns their ways. The one who becomes one of them. The one who carries war and loss in his bones.

Everything crashes into you at once. This is not how this is supposed to happen. You have plans, careful ones. You are supposed to think this through, decide what you will say, how you will approach him, how to keep yourself safe.

You begin to turn away, preparing to disappear back into the dark water.

“Who’s there?”

His voice cuts through the night.

It is rough and worn down to something raw and unguarded. The sound of it sinks into you, heavy and intimate. You can hear the aftermath of tears in it, the gravel, the depth, the quiet break beneath the strength. You freeze where you are, heart pounding.

You want to hear him again.

Being careful to maintain the proper accent, you respond softly.

“I was listening. I did not realize how close I had gotten.” Your voice is quiet, barely carrying over the waves. “Your song is beautifully tragic.”

There is a pause.

You expect him to turn fully toward you, to question you further, but instead his shoulders rise and fall with a slow breath. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower, steadier than before, though the strain beneath it remains.

“It is not meant to be heard,” he says. “But… I guess the ocean does not keep secrets.”

He shifts slightly, one hand braced against the woven edge of the marui. The water ripples around his calves. He does not look at you.

“They are songs I learned from her people,” he continues. “From the forest. Songs for the dead. For those who do not return.” His gaze drifts back to the water, unfocused, as if he is seeing something far beneath the surface. “All I can do to help is fight. I keep diving through the waves searching for weapons in the destruction and instead seeing them there, just around the hull of a fallen ship.”

His voice tightens on the last words.

You remain still for a moment, letting the water hold you, before slowly swimming the rest of the way to the edge of his marui. The woven fibers brush against your forearms as you rest there, close enough now to feel the warmth radiating from him. When you lift your head, your eyes meet his.

The war lives there.

It is etched deep into his gaze, a constant storm he cannot escape. He does not blame himself, not truly, but he needs to. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the tension running through his shoulders. The warrior in him fights endlessly to take control, to push him forward, to force him to keep moving, keep planning, keep attacking. Anything is better than stillness.

Something about the two sides warring inside him resonates with you.

“Sometimes I feel trapped,” you say quietly. “Like no matter what path I take, it is the wrong one. I find myself needing to blame someone else and myself at the same time. But sometimes…” You hesitate, then finish softly. “Sometimes there is no one to blame.”

The ocean hums quietly around you.

Slowly, without thinking too much about it, you lift your hand and rest it against his knee, partly submerged in the water. The contact is light, tentative.

He flinches instantly.

His reflexes take over as his hand snaps around your wrist. For a split second, his grip is firm, automatic, the response of a soldier who has survived too many close calls. Then he realizes what he is doing.

His hold loosens immediately.

You realize he is not hurting you. He never meant to. His hand trembles slightly as he releases you, fingers lingering for half a second too long before pulling back. He looks startled, almost ashamed.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

You shake your head gently. “It is alright.”

He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. Up close, he looks exhausted. Not just tired, but worn down to the bone. Like something inside him has been pacing a cage for too long with nowhere left to go.

“I do not know how to stop fighting,” he admits. “If I stop, I think I will fall apart.”

You nod, understanding more than you want to.

“Maybe fighting does not always mean attacking,” you offer. “Maybe sometimes it just means surviving the night.”

Jake looks at you then, really looks at you. There is no answer in his eyes, only the quiet recognition of someone who knows exactly what you mean.

After a moment, you pull your hand back and ease away from the marui.

“I should go,” you say softly.

He does not stop you.

You slip back into the water, letting the sea close around you, and swim toward the distant silhouette of the ship. The sounds of the village fade behind you, replaced by the steady rhythm of your own breathing. When you reach the docking bay, you guide your avatar body into its restraints, the familiar hum of machinery surrounding you once more.