Pairing: neteyam x Omatikaya reader
Contents: mentions of blood, miscarriage, sensitive themes, hurt, mourning, arguments, crying, trauma, angst, comfort
Note: heyyy i am back :3 i decided i wanted to write more angst stories sooo here is my attempt at it— this theme was inspired by an ao’nung fic i read a few weeks ago! I hope you guys enjoy it just as much as i enjoyed writing it!
The forest felt different. Everything felt brighter to you.
You watched the sunlight filter through the leaves casting golden patterns across the ground as you rubbed your abdomen softly.
It had been 7 days since you told Neteyam.
You remembered it perfectly.
You had been nervous when you told him. Your hands had twisted together as the words left your mouth, unsure how he would react.
“A child?” he finally asked quietly.
It was not the confident smile he usually wore. This one was softer. Almost disbelieving.
“Are you certain?” he asked, voice gentle.
You had barely finished the word before he pulled you into his arms.
He held you tightly, pressing his forehead against yours as he laughed softly under his breath. Both of you were excited for this new blessing.
The week that followed felt almost dreamlike.
Neteyam became extremely attentive.
If you tried to lift anything heavier than a small basket, he would immediately take it from you.
“Neteyam,” you protested once as he snatched a bundle of woven cloth from your arms, “I am still capable of carrying things.”
“You are carrying something far more important,” he replied without hesitation.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.
At night, when the clan had grown quiet, the two of you would lie together in the marui and whisper about the future.
Sometimes Neteyam rested his hand over your stomach, his expressions thoughtful.
“Our child will be stubborn,” he said one night.
You laughed gently. Grateful for him.
Other times he spoke about teaching them hiw to ride an ikran or catching fish like his father taught him.
You would just play with his braids as he kissed and talked to your belly. Feeling all his love for your child.
“I keep thinking about how lucky I am.” He whispers
Your chest warmed at the words.
He pulls out a small wooden bead, carefully carved and smoothed.
“For the baby,” he said excitedly.
“You already made something?”
You reached out, tracing the delicate carvings along the bead.
Neteyam shifted himself .
“ do you like it? We could add it to their song—”
You wrapped your arms around him before he could finish.
Neteyam getting closer to you, pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before resting his head beside yours.
“Eywa has blessed us,” he murmured.
The weeks passed in quiet happiness, full of soft laughter, whispered dreams, and the feeling of anticipation for parenthood.
The pain woke you before the sun did.
At first it was only a dull ache in your stomach. You stirred slightly on the mat, thinking perhaps you had slept wrong. The cold morning light dimmed through your marui, the sounds that once felt comforting now felt empty
But then the pain sharpened.
Your breath caught as another wave rolled through you, stronger this time.
You pushed yourself upright, pressing a trembling hand to your abdomen.
For a moment, you considered waking Neteyam.
He had returned late from patrol, exhausted, collapsing beside you without even removing the beads from his braids. His arm still rested loosely across the mat where you had been lying.
But then another wave of pain hit.
A gasp slipped from your lips.
Your fingers tightened against your stomach as fear began to creep in.
“No…,” you whispered under your breath.
Neteyam stirred immediately.
His eyes blinked open as he noticed the way you were positioned .
You tried to answer, but your gaze had dropped to the mat.
There was blood. That was all you saw.
Neteyam followed your line of sight.
The color drained from his face.
Your name left his mouth in a breathless whisper.
He was on his feet instantly, lifting you into his arms.
His hands gently cupped your face, panic already rising in his voice.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” He urged, his voice with panic.
“I… I do not know,” you whispered weakly.
Another wave of pain tore through you. This time you a cry escaped your lips.
Neteyam’s eyes darted back to the blood staining the woven mat.
“I am sorry,” you whispered. Tears filling your eyes. You let it all go.
His head snapped toward you.
But the fear in his voice said everything.
Without another word, he quickly carried you from the marui toward the healers.
You clung weakly to him, burying your face into his shoulder as the truth slowly began to settle between you both.
It had now been three days.
Three days of silence and distance.
All that existed was the pounding of your heart and the strange, depressing quiet that had replaced the joy of the last week.
Neteyam sat outside the marui, alone. Sharpening a blade.
You watched him from inside.
You both had barely spoken since the healer confirmed what you both already knew.
You could no longer stand the distance, the silence, you fwlt like he was avoiding you.
He didn’t look up immediately.
The blade scraped against the stone again.
“Neteyam,” you said more firmly.
Finally he lifted his gaze.
The distance in his voice made your stomach twist.
“Why won’t you talk to me?”
His brows pulled together slightly.
“No,” you said quietly. “You are not.”
The tension between you thickened.
Neteyam looked away again, jaw tightening.
“Seriously? Right now? I do not know what you want me to say y/n.”
Your frustration finally took over.
“Anything!” you snapped. “You act as if nothing happened!”
The words hung in the air.
Neteyam’s head snapped back toward you.
“You think that is easy for me?” he said, his voice rising for the first time.
Your hand rested on your chest as tears filled your eyes.
“Then why do you keep pushing me away? You wont even look at me!”
The blade clattered onto the ground as he ran a frustrated hand through his braids.
“Im not pushing you away—every time I look at you,” he said hoarsely, “I remember what I lost. What we were supposed to have.”
The words hit you like a slap.
“So you blame me for this?”
“You think this is my fault.”
“You did not have to!” you cried.
The hurt in your voice cut deeper than any blade.
Neteyam’s anger faltered immediately.
“I would never blame you,” he said.
For the first time since it happened, Neteyam’s composure broke.
His shoulders trembled as he dragged a hand across his face.
“I failed you y/n,” he whispered “i failed to protect our baby.”
Neteyam looked down ,his chest feeling suddenly hollow.
The future he had begun to picture was gone.
Something inside you shattered at the words.
“Neteyam… this was never something you could protect us from. You loved our baby from the moment you knew they existed. You talked to them. You dreamt of them .”
You stepped forward slowly, wrapping your arms around him.
“That is what a father does” you whispered
“One day,” you said quietly, “Eywa will bless us again. And when that day comes, our child will have the strongest, most loving father in all of Pandora.”
For a moment he stood frozen.
Then his arms tightened around you desperately, pressing his face into your hair, letting the grief he had carried alone finally pour out.
And for the first time, you both allowed yourselves to mourn together, sharing the emptiness and the love that remained.
Later that night, Neteyam placed the small carved bead beside the other beads in his braid.
A quiet promise that the child you two lost would never be forgotten.
