#sully!reader

“Can I come?” Neteyam asked, forehead wrinkled in question and Jake’s smile wavered at disappointing his son.

“There’s something we need to discuss. Sorry ‘Teyam. Next time,” he answered.

“Uh oh… you are in trouble big sis,” Neteyam teased, turning to you. Externally, you rolled your eyes, but internally your stomach dropped. Even at 18 years old, you still felt like a child being scolded whenever your parents asked to talk to you.

You grabbed your spear and a basket and followed your father outside.

“What is it?” you asked, anxiety gnawing on your gut as he led the way to the river, passing the other families as you walked through the village. 

“You’ll find out when we get there,” he replied, shaking his head at your impatience.

Your gut dropped even further when you saw him. Tarsem. Your father’s protege and your nearly life long crush. 

He was sitting outside his kelku (home) with his elbows resting on his knees as he braided delicate beads onto his songchord. His little sister played at his feet and made little ikran sounds as she flew a wooden toy around. His mind looked preoccupied as he reached for more beads on the bench beside him.

“Kaltxì Tarsem (Hello Tarsem),” your dad’s voice broke Tarsem’s trance and made you avert your eyes as he looked up. Your dad’s back stopped in front of you to talk to the young warrior.

“Olo’eyktan,” Tarsem said respectfully, standing up and putting his songchord down hastily on the bench. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you),” he greeted your father, signaling the traditional hand gesture to match. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” Jake responded.“Kaltxì, little Se’val,” Jake added, saying hello to Tarsem’s little sister. The second his attention was diverted, Tarsem’s gaze slid to yours and you smiled bashfully, feeling like the little girl who first realized Tarsem was growing up to be kinda cute all those years ago.

“Oel ngati kameie, y/n,” Tarsem greeted you as well, his tail snaking around his knee. His eyes locked to yours so intensely it almost made you want to scream.

“Tarsem, Oel ngati kameie” you nodded, meaning the words with all of your heart. He smiled slightly, the corners of his lips curling up a fraction and it made your heart jump.

“How did the hunting party do?” your dad asked Tarsem and he tore his eyes away from you. It felt like a sudden influx of air hit your lungs.

“Good, sir. Three talioang from the East and several yerik from the North as well,” Tarsem explained, recounting the previous day’s spoils as you turned your attention to the little girl still playing on the ground. You crouched beside her, already familiar with her quirky attitude and kind heart.

“Hello Se’val, what is Yipip up to today?” you asked, referring to the purple ikran in her hands.

“He is flying to his home up in the mountains. He has been out hunting all day like Tarsem,” she said, weaving the toy through the air and making it do a loop. You tamped down a laugh as she squawked like an ikran.

“Wow, he must be tired then, that is a lot of work,” you pointed out and she nodded.

“He is very sleepy, he needs to go to bed,” she affirmed.

“Tarsem,” you heard your dad bark. You looked up to catch the young man already staring at you as you spoke with his little sister. His face flamed purple as his head shot to Jake. “Sorry sir, what did you say?”

Your dad’s eyebrows and ears were lowered as he scoffed. “Where’s your head at? I said I need your help with the ritual tomorrow night. Kalu is doing her dreamhunt,” Jake repeated and you stood up, Se’val was in her own world anyway.

“Right, I will be there,” he nodded, avoiding eye contact with you now as if it would burn him.

“Okay…” your dad sighed, “We better be off then. You two have a good night, get some sleep.”

“Tsìltsan txon (good night),” Tarsem said, eyes finally glancing over to you and there went all the air again.

“Tsìltsan txon, Tarsem, Se’val.” you repeated, gut twisting as you tore your gaze away from his and turned your back on the two.

“Bye!” Se’val called, hand waving as her eyes still stayed locked on her game.

Your dad waved back and you turned around to wave as well only to see Tarsem’s eyes on you again. You were like a magnet drawn to him, you could not escape his eyes. Your body whirled back around to follow your dad and you tried to ignore the embarrassment and hope rising in you.

-

“So, what was that?” Your dad asked, his gaze stuck on the water in front of him, but his words were directed at you. You stood side to side in the stream, water up to your knees as you watched carefully for any fish.

Your stomach dropped, “What was what?” you asked, feigning confusion. You were a bad liar, your voice was far too pitchy for someone supposedly innocent and Jake didn't believe it for a second.

“Come on, that back there with Tarsem,” Jake prodded further. 

“I don't know what you mean,” you lied. Sirens went off in your head, this was a conversation you did not want to have with your dad.

“You think I don't know my babygirl? I see the way you look at him,” He said and your cheeks flamed.

“Sempu! Is it that obvious?” you asked, hand coming up to put pressure on your temple. This was giving you a stress induced headache.

“Only because he’s looking right back,” he snorted and you closed your eyes in embarrassment. Your ears flattened at the threatened feeling taking over your senses.

“Do you like him?” he asked, finally turning to level his eyes at you, wanting to read your reaction.

You sighed, “This is not something a girl wants to talk about with her dad,” you ground out, shooting him a glare.

“Well I’m not just any dad, I’m Olo’eyktan, so you have to tell me. Do you like him?” he teased and you huffed out a laugh at his persistence.

“Yes, Sempu. I like him, I have liked him for many years.” you admitted, your hand gripping tightly to your spear.

Jake hummed, “Ah, now we get into it. He obviously likes you, why has no one made a move?” he asked, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“Because we are duty bound and shy,” you gritted out.

Jake barked out a laugh, somewhat surprised that you had an actual, honest answer. “Well, that will do it. You should talk to him, tell him how you feel,” he suggested.

It was your turn to scoff, “Yeah right, what if he does not like me back? No, I would rather not know,” you said, embarrassment already clouding your mind of just thinking about that.

“If he doesn't like you back then he’s an idiot and I’ll tan his hide into a new cumberbund,” your dad said stoically and you rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

“Be serious, Sempu,” you chided. 

“I am, babygirl! Who wouldn't like you? It’s obvious he does,” your dad said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I guess I’m just scared. I don't want to have misread him,” you explained, shoulders slumping at the defeated feeling in your gut.

“You’ll never know until you talk to him about it,” he reminded you and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” you agreed, but you and he both knew that when it came to matters of the heart, you’d never scrounge up the courage unless an opportunity forced you to.

“He’s a good man. No one deserves you and I wouldn’t go that far to say he does, but if someone was to come close, it would be him,” Jake said, looking at his little girl with adoring eyes.

“Thank you, sempu,” you smiled, despite the shame still plastered to your face.

“You know, I could always set up an arranged marriage between you. He'd have to like you then,” he shrugged and you could tell he was joking, or at least you hoped he was.

“That would be just perfect! Why did I not think of that?” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Jake laughed.

“Good, I’ll make it happen,” he teased back.

You sighed looking back down at the water, “We were never gonna do any fishing were we?” you asked as a Pekavol fish finally swam past you and neither of you moved.

“Nope.”

“Figures.”

-

You sat in the grass the next day near the cliffs edge, picking apart blades of grass and staring out into the sky, watching as ikrans dipped and veered. You had been lost in thought all day, so much in fact, that your mother had sent you away after you dropped one too many items and Lo’ak lost it laughing at you. 

Your mind was on your conversation with your dad yesterday. Well, that and Tarsem, always Tarsem. He had occupied every waking thought in your mind and it was driving you crazy.

“I’m so sorry!” the very subject of your thoughts exclaimed, bursting through the tree line and scaring half the wits out of you. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn't know,” The words rushed out of him like a river as you gaped at him with wide eyes.

You had shot up to your feet when he emerged. “What are you talking about?” you demanded in shock.

Tarsem’s eyes narrowed, “Your dad said you were waiting for me.”

“I wasn't waiting for you, I was just… Oh. Oh no.” you stopped suddenly, eyes widening.

“What?” he panicked, stepping closer to you.

Your shoulders slumped as realization hit you, “He set us up,” you confessed, and Tarsem’s face opened into one of confusion instead of worry.

“I don't understand, what do you mean?” He shook his head.

You sighed again, “He told you I was waiting for you here so we would be forced to talk.”

“Why would he do that? We talk nearly every day," he pointed out.

You decided to grasp the last thread of courage you had and hold tight to it. You were a Sully after all. Your dad had put you in a difficult position, but you might as well take advantage of it, “Because… he says I should tell you how I feel…” you stammered, the words not coming out how you wished.

“How you feel…” Tarsem stated, staring blankly back at you. “How do you feel? Tell me,” he urged.

“That I… like you.” you continued, covering your face with your hands to hide the deep purple it was turning.

You felt rough hands grasp yours, tugging them away from your face and holding them tightly between your bodies. “You like me?” he asked, bright eyes boring into yours.

You nodded, not possessing the will to speak any longer. You could have shriveled up in embarrassment right then if the Na’vi body was capable of it.

His lips broke out into a smile, “That is convenient.” he said and your heart lept, in fear or hope, you were not sure.

“Yeah?” you asked softly.

He nodded, “Yes, because I like you too.” He smiled softly and you returned it.

“Oh!” You exclaimed brightly, “Yeah, that is fairly convenient, since you know, you will be Olo’eyktan, I am in line to be Tsahik. You like me, I like you. It is all very… convenient,” You rambled uselessly as Tarsem grinned wider. 

“You are very beautiful when you blush,” he said, reaching up to trace a finger over your cheek and your breath hitched.

“Thank you,” you stuttered.

“You are welcome. May I kiss you?” he asked with more confidence than you imagined him to possess.

“Please,” you sighed as he smiled wider and hooked your chin between his finger and thumb.

He lowered his face to yours, pressing his lips against your mouth softly, barely a whisper of touch before you both relaxed, meshing together. Tarsem brought his other hand to your waist as you rested your hands on his chest, coming closer before finally separating for air.

“You’re good at that,” you chimed, a laugh running through your words.

“Thank you, yawnetu (beloved),” he smiled smuggly.

“My dad is gonna freak,” you muttered.

“We will never hear the end of it now,” he agreed. 

“He will probably even threaten to kill you if you hurt me. I might take it seriously if I were you, he has done crazier things,” you explained with a worried grimace.

Tarsem nodded once grimly, “He already did, last week.”

“Oh… and you still like me? That is so sweet,” you cooed.

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If Lo'ak ever saw the way Aonung’s eyes lingered on the curve of your waist where your loincloth met your deep blue skin, the forest boy would probably try to slit his throat with one of those animal bone knives. If Neteyam ever caught wind of the imagery currently dancing behind Aonung’s eyelids—images of you pinned against the rough, woven floor of a marui, your legs tangled with his thicker, oceanic ones—there wouldn't be enough of Aonung left for the Eywa to reclaim. 

He was the son of the Olo’eyktan; he was supposed to be a leader, a paragon of Metkayina strength. Instead, he was standing here, hidden by a thicket of mangrove roots, watching you practice your swimming and feeling a shameful, agonizing tightness in his loincloth.

I am a monster, he thought, his pupils blown wide until the turquoise of his irises was a mere sliver of light. I want to see her cry, but not from pain. I want to see her eyes roll back while I find out if her skin tastes like the forest or the sea. I want to ruin that look of pure, agonizing sweetness she gives everyone. I want to be the reason she can’t walk straight for a week. 

He didn't care about the consequences. The threat of Tonowari’s scolding or Ronal’s piercing, judgmental stare felt distant and flickering compared to the roaring fire in his gut. The danger actually made the hunger intensify. It added a metallic, electric tang to his obsession. He was a prince of the sea, and he had decided that the most precious thing the ocean had ever spat out was a forest woman with too-big eyes and a smile that made him want to commit sins that he didn’t even know existed.

The sun beat down on the shallow flats, the scent of crushed sea-lilies and sun-warmed kelp rising in thick, sweet waves. Aonung stepped out from the shadows, his heavy tail leave a rhythmic drag in the wet sand. He watched you struggle with the buoyancy of your own body, your tail—thin and twitchy like a lemur's—splashing uselessly against the surface. You looked up, blinking water from your long lashes, and when you saw him, your face lit up with a genuine, guileless warmth that made his stomach do a slow, sickening flip of desire.

"Aonung! You're back," you chirped, your voice like the chime of shells hitting one another in a breeze. "I've been trying to do the rhythmic breathing Lo'ak showed me, but I keep floating up like a cork. Am I doing it wrong?"

He walked into the water until it reached his hips, his thighs cutting through the surf with practiced ease. His skin was cool, but inside, he was boiling. "The forest way is not our way," he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a low, vibrating rumble in his chest. "Your brothers are clumsy. They teach you to fight the water. You must learn to invite it in."

I want to invite myself in, he thought, his gaze dropping to the rise and fall of your chest. I want to feel those lungs gasping against my own skin until you don't know where the air ends and I begin.

He moved behind you, the proximity sending a jolt of static through his nerves. You didn't pull away; you simply adjusted your stance, trusting him completely. 

To you, he was the mentor, the friend, the boy helping your family find their place. To him, you were a soft, pliable thing that he wanted to mold to his own dark whims.

"Put your hands here," he commanded softly, reaching around to place his large, three-fingered hands over your diaphragm.

His touch was firm, his palms rough with the callouses of a diver. He could feel the delicate lattice of your ribs, the terrifyingly soft texture of your skin that felt like wet silk. You let out a tiny, surprised huff of air but stayed still. "Now, breathe. Not from the throat. From here. Deep. Slow."

"Like this?" you asked, taking a lungful of air.

As you inhaled, your back pressed firmly against his chest. Aonung’s eyes closed for a brief, tortured second. He could smell you—a musky, floral scent like crushed hibiscus and the damp earth of a jungle floor after a heavy rain. It was intoxicating, a physical weight that pressed against his senses. He leaned down, his chin hovering just above your shoulder, his breath hot against the sensitive curve of your neck.

"Slowly," he hissed, his fingers splaying out across your stomach. He began to knead the muscles there, ostensibly to help you relax, but his thumbs traced the dip of your navel with a lingering pressure. 

She is so small. I could break her. I could wrap my hands around her waist and meet my fingers on the other side. I want to feel her trembling under me while I tell her exactly what I'm going to do to her.

"It feels... different when you do it," you whispered, looking back at him with those wide, innocent amber eyes. You actually smiled, a tiny, dimpled thing that should have been illegal. "Thank you, Aonung. You're a much better teacher than my brothers. They just yell."

He felt a surge of pride. He liked that you were comparing him to them and finding them wanting. He liked that you were leaning into his touch, completely unaware that his mind was currently stripping you bare, imagining the way your tail would curl around his leg as he drove himself into you. He imagined the sound you would make—not a thank you, but a shattered, high-pitched keening as he took everything you had to give.

"Your brothers don't understand the depth of the water," Aonung murmured, his hand sliding lower, his pinky catching the top edge of your loincloth. He lingered there for a heartbeat too long, feeling the heat radiating from your hips. "They only see the surface. But there is so much more beneath, isn't there? Secrets."

You nodded, oblivious, turning back to the horizon to try another breath. "The Way of Water has no beginning and no end. That's what your sister says."

"Guess my sister can say wise things," Aonung said, trying not to think of his dumb sister right now. He stepped even closer, his pelvis brushing against the back of your thigh. He could feel the firmness of your glutes through the thin fabric, the way your body was toned from a lifetime of climbing trees. He wondered if you would be just as strong when you were trying to hold onto him. 

I want to bite that shoulder. I want to leave marks that your mother can see from across the village, so everyone knows you belong to me.

"Try again," he whispered, his hand moving up to trace the line of your throat, his thumb resting right over your pulse point. He felt it leaping, a frantic little bird trapped under your skin. Was it from the exercise, or did some small, primal part of you recognize the predator standing at your back? "Deep breath. Hold it. Feel the weight of the ocean pressing in on you. Let it take you."

You obeyed, closing your eyes and sinking slightly into the water. Aonung watched the way the water beaded on your collarbones, the way your nipples peaked against the cool air as the tide ebbed. He felt a literal ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth so hard. He was drowning in his own depravity, and the most delicious part was that you were holding his hand while he did it.

She’s thanking me, he thought, a jagged, silent laugh vibrating in his throat. She’s smiling at me while I’m thinking about how much I want to hear her beg.

He reached out, his hand dipping beneath the surface to steady your hip as a small wave rolled in. His fingers brushed the soft skin of your inner thigh, a touch that was entirely unnecessary for the lesson. You didn't flinch. You just adjusted your balance and leaned your weight into his hand, trusting him to keep you upright.

"I think I'm getting it!" you said, beaming at him.

"You are doing perfectly," Aonung lied, his voice a gravelly rasp. 

Eywa, forgive me, because I’m never going to stop.

All your life has been a sequence of standing in the place between. Between brothers and sisters, between peace and war, between a forest that loves you and a family that never quite feels like it was meant for you.

The disconnection began when you and your brothers started to grow up. Jake had begun to shut you out of everything.

Your mother, never really there for you, always focused on your siblings. The only person whose connection to you had not severed was Tuk, and still, you knew that the day would come—because it always did.

It happened with Lo’ak, it happened with Neteyam, it happened with Kiri, and it happened with your parents.

You sit silently slouched over some weapon crafting material, hands skimming the string, testing it. Your father sits just a few feet away, helping your brothers and Kiri craft their own bows. “Dad, can you help me?” you murmur, “i cannot attach the string to the—”

“Y/n— can’t you wait? I’m helping Kiri.”

“Okay,” you say evenly, nodding even though he is not looking. “And when you are done?”

“Sure.” He says, voice rough, lips tight.

One minute passes, then two, he seems to forget that you’d even called out for him in the first place. So you figure it out yourself.

Even Tuk’s glance, soft and slightly knowing, can’t erase the hollow ache curling in your chest. You bury it under the weight of your work, under the sound of strings snapping into place and wood being sanded smooth.

Tuk comes from behind you, hands already on your shoulders, peeking over them to see your work. “Y/n…can I tryyy?”

“Not now, Tuk. I am not finished.”

“Are you having trouble?”

“No.” You say, quicker than you should have. Tuk’s frown is instant, tiny hands loosening around your shoulders.

You set the materials aside and take her little hands in yours. “I am busy.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

Your mother crosses into the large space of your home, eyes skimming briefly over you before focusing on other things.

When her eyes land on Tuk, they narrow slightly. “What did you do?” She asks you immediately, your shoulders tense as everybody looks up from their laps, all eyes falling over you.

“Nothing, I am just crafting the bow—she would not leave me alone.”

“She should not have to. Do not treat her as if she is a burden. Let her try.” Your mother says.

You can only sigh, handing Tuk the crafting materials sharply. “There,” you murmur.

Your mother gathers whatever it is she needed and remains outside, close enough to hear everything being said inside. you take the components of your unfinished bow back immediately and continue to work.

Only, Tuk does not complain this time, she just watches your hands as they skim wood and sometimes tug at the strings too hard.

“You are doing it wrong.” She teases.

“I am not,” despite everything, you smile.

“Seriously, Neteyam showed me-“

“I said I am not!” You snap, your voice cutting louder.

Instantly, your fathers voice echoes across the space. “Hey!” The single word cracks through the air like a whip.

You freeze, Jake is already on his feet, anger flaring quick and hot. “Don’t you talk to her like that.”

Everybody freezes. Tuk flinches slightly beside you. Your chest tightens, legs pulling in at your side. “I told her that I was busy.”

“She’s a kid!” He snaps, stepping closer. “Your sister. You don’t yell at her because you’re frustrated.”

“I did not- I am not frustrated.”

“But you did, and yes you are angry!” he yells, voice rising. “And you’re taking it out on your siblings.”

Something inside of you twists like a vault, sharp and sudden. “I just wanted to finish something without being interrupted,” you murmur, hands shaking slightly as you try to focus.

Before he can respond, a new voice cuts through. “What is happening here?” Your mother stands at the entryway, and before you can say anything, your father steps up.

“She snapped at Tuk.”

“No-” you sigh, “she kept getting in the way of things. I was just trying to finish my bow!”

“So you raise your voice at her?” Your mother asks.

“Yes.”

“She just wants to learn, is that a crime?” Your father chimes in.

“I am learning too!” You snap. “I just want to finish my work!” You stand now, breathing heavily.

“Y/n, apologize. Now.” Your mother crosses her arms, waiting.

You shake your head and crouch to gather your things, brushing past your parents carelessly and moving toward the doorway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks, but you ignore him., continuing to move.

You find yourself sitting stiff on a smooth rock, fingers still pulling at the stupid string that got you here in the first place.

The noise inside the marui fades slowly, piece by piece, until it is replaced by the low hum of night insects and the distant rush of water.

Jake steps outside, arms crossed, jaw tight. Staring out into the darkness as if it might offer him some answers.

Of course it doesn’t. He exhales through his nose, long and controlled, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders.

“Daddy?” The voice is small.

He turns, already softening. “Hey baby girl.”

Tuk steps closer, hands clasped behind her back the way she does when she’s thinking too hard about something.

“What’s up?” He asks, crouching a little so that he’s closer to her height.

She doesn’t answer right away, just looks at him—studying. Then, she speaks, “do you love Y/n?”

The question lands wrong, too direct, and too easy. Jake blinks, caught off guard. “What kind of question is that?”

Tuk shrugs, it is not her usual, playful shrug—this one is careful. “You always say you love us, all of us.” She says quietly.

“I do.” He answers immediately. “Of course I do.”

“But…” she hesitates, eyes dropping for a moment before lifting again. “you don’t talk to her the same, that’s it.”

That hits harder than anything that was said inside. Your father’s expression tightens. “Tuk-“

“You sometimes get bad at her faster,” she continues, words a little quicker now, like she’s afraid she won’t get them out otherwise. “You always listen to Kiri, sometimes Lo’ak, and Neteyam.”

He flinches, barely.

“But you don’t really listen to her.” She finishes with a sharp exhale, as if she’d been holding those very words for decades.

A long pause stretches—then, finally, “I am trying to keep this family together.” Jake says, voice lower.

“Everyone is under pressure, baby…I can’t-“

“Maybe Y/n is as well.” Tuk interrupts, almost a whisper. “You just don’t look.”

That stops him completely, here he is, learning about his middle child from his youngest, learning things he should have already known.

“She tries really hard, I can see it. Nobody else does.”

Jake looks away then, out into the trees again. Trying to avoid what’s sitting in front of him. “I know,” he says after a moment, but it does not sound as certain as it should.

Tuk steps closer, tiny hand reaching for his, he lets her take it. “Maybe you should tell her, daddy.” she says.

He glances down at her. “Tell her what?”

“That you love her.”

Tuk says it so simply, like it should be easy. Jake’s throat tightens slightly, his grip on her little hand shifting.

“I think she forgot.” Tuk adds.

That one lands deep, for a second, he doesn’t speak at all. The sounds of the forest fill the space between them, thick and alive, but it does nothing to ease the quiet weight settling in his chest. “..yeah,” he murmurs. “I’ll talk to her.”

Tuk nods, satisfied in that small way of hers. “Okay.”

She squeezes his hand once before letting go and walking back inside.

Your father stays where he is, still staring into the dark.

You remain silently seated on the same forest rock, fingers curled in the moss, legs dangling—your bow is finished beside you.

Nobody has come looking for you, and that’s all you can think about. Not the bow you finally built, just the fact that your own family forgets you like a story with a torn page.

You are always the one to watch as they share the love you were once a part of. The realization creeps in, you lean forward, your elbows resting on your knee caps, palms squeezing against your eyes.

You gasp sharply, then your cries escape like a weight you didn’t even know you had to bear, now it’s melting into soil. Your hands move away, letting the tears escape—your face is washed in secrets kept too deep, a baptism of everything you cannot say.

Your mind drifts once again, you, as a young girl- held in the arms of your parents, or you, curled up with your siblings, or- “whatever,” you murmur.

You hop off of the large stone, taking your bow, moving quietly through the forest. You test the bow by drawing it as far as possible and piercing right through a woven target—a forgotten one.

You spend the long night hours walking about the forest, drowning yourself with work, it’s not even close to dawn, and you’re still tired. Eventually, you go back to the village on your own, your kelku is quieter than usual when you step inside, not empty, just wrong.

It is the kind of quiet that feels like everyone is aware of something, but no one knows how to touch it. For a brief second, a few heads lift, then they go back down too fast.

You don’t say anything, you just move to your space, set down your bow carefully, and pick up whatever work is closest. Something unfinished, something that gives your hands a purpose so your mind doesn’t have to.

No one stops you, not your mother, or your father, not even Tuk. But your siblings notice the way your tail is unmoving. None of them bother to speak.

The silence stretches, it follows all of you into the night. Sleeping doesn’t come easy, despite your obvious fatigue.

The space feels too tight and too empty at the same time. between breathing, shifting, the faint sound of your family settling in—but none of it reaches you.

So you get up quietly.

By the time morning comes, you’ve already been working. Your hands move without thinking, sharpening, tying, adjusting. Anything that keeps you from stopping.

Anything that keeps you from feeling.

“You’re up early.” Jakes voice.

You don’t look up. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Your father watches you for a moment longer than usual this time, like he’s trying to figure something out—but he says the wrong things.

“You can’t keep doing that.”

He almost reaches for you, almost softens—but that quickly turns into authority all over again.

Your hands still slightly. “Doing what?”

“This,” he gestures vaguely, frustration already creeping in. “Running off every time something doesn’t go your way.”

“I didn’t run.” you cut in sharply, the words quicker than you intend. “I just left.”

Lo’ak, leaning against the doorway, snorts. “Left, ran, whatever. You’re too old to keep acting like this. Everyone else has real things to worry about.”

Your hands freeze on the bow. “Real things?” Your voice is louder now, shaking slightly. “Is it a real problem that I exist here, and you all ignore me?”

Lo’ak shrugs, too casual, almost bored. “Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive-“

“Sensitive?!” You snap, standing up, heat curling in your chest. “I am not sensitive! I am tired! Tired of being invincible to you all. Tired of being treated like I’m nothing until I explode!”

Jake steps closer, tension rolling off of him. “Y/n. I am trying-“

“No!” You yell, spinning to face him. “You’re trying for everyone else! You listen to Kiri, you listen to Neteyam, but not me!”

Kiri, standing at the doorway beside Lo’ak watches closely, eyes rolling. “Well maybe if you weren’t always running away or sulking, people would notice you more.” She says.

The words hit like a whip. Your chest tightens, everything twists inside. “I am done” you murmur, voice low but trembling. “Done trying to matter to people who don’t see me.”

Jake opens his mouth, frustrated, angry, but no words land. You brush past him, Kiri and Lo’ak, ignoring the shocked looks, the unspoken guilt, the tension in the room.

Without another word, you move towards the doorway, shoulders rigid. You don’t even stop to grab anything, you just make your way out.

“Y/n-“ Jake calls after you.

But you don’t stop. The hut is suddenly emptier than it’s ever been.

You don’t notice the hours passing, moving through the forest in a quiet rage, letting the night swallow your footsteps. By the time night is a blue smear over the horizon, your limbs ache, your hands smell of wood and bowstring, but you feel somehow more yourself than you have in weeks.

Your family is seated, together in the hut, spending quality time with one another. Jake’s voice breaks the silence in a soft whisper. “Tuk told me something. Last night.”

Your mother stills, moving closer so that your siblings do not hear. “What?”

Jake hesitates, but not for long. “She thinks Y/n might have forgotten that we love her.”

Neytiri inhales sharply. For a moment, she cannot speak. Her jaw tightens, her ears lowering slightly, the weight of it settling in her chest all at once.

“She did not forget,” Neytiri says at first—quick, instinctive, but it doesn’t sound certain.

Jake looks at her then, really looks—and realizes she’s already further ahead than he is, already understanding what this means.

Your Mother sets the materials in her hands aside, more abruptly than she intends. “All this time..” she murmurs, almost to herself. “She stands there, and we let her.”

Neytiri shakes her head, already moving toward the entrance. “We will not let that be the truth she carries.”

There is urgency in your mom now, emotion pushing through control. “We can remind her now.”

Your father nods, solemn.

The forest still breathes when they leave. Not peacefully, but alive.

Not peacefully—but alive in that quiet, watchful way it gets after conflict. The air is thick, holding onto the last echoes of raised voices, of things said too sharply, too late.

Jake and Neytiri move quickly through the trees, their pace urgent, focused on you. Not the village, or the others.

“She went east,” Neytiri says, voice tight, already scanning the ground, the branches, the smallest disturbances.

Your mother stills, but her body does not fully obey her. Her hands tighten around nothing, fingers curling as if they are trying to hold onto something that is no longer there.

The sounds of the forest blur for a moment, fading beneath something older, something softer.

A memory, it comes uninvited. You are small again. Much smaller than the others ever seemed to be. Your limbs all softness and curiosity, your steps uneven as you try to follow her through the roots of the forest.

“Ma’ite,” Neytiri had called gently, glancing back at you. “Stay close.”

You had nodded quickly, too quickly, determined. Always determined.

A root caught your foot, you stumbled forward with a small cry, hands scraping against the ground. Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to startle you.

Neytiri had turned at the sound, but not fully. Because Neteyam had called for her at the same time. “Mother, look!”

Something about his voice.. pride, excitement, it pulled her attention. Just for a moment Just long enough that when she looked back, you were already pushing yourself up.

You did not cry, or reach for her. You were just quiet.

Your little hands brushed the dirt off your palms, clumsy but practiced, like you had already learned that no one would always be there to do it for you.

Neytiri had stepped toward you then. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head quickly. “No.”

She remembers that now, the way you did not look at her when you said it. The way your shoulders stayed slightly hunched, like you were holding something in.

But Neteyam had spoken again, tugging at her attention, and the moment passed as easily as breath.

She had let it pass.

The memory snaps away just as quickly as it came. Jake nods, jaw set. “She couldn’t have gotten far.”

But there’s something unsettled in his tone.Because deep down he knows you could.

They move faster, the forest parts around them, familiar, guiding—but something feels off. It all felt too quiet and too still.

then a high, distant sound. Your father freezes mid step. Your mother turns sharply toward the sky.

The scream of something tears through the air. “Move!” Jake tries to warn the villagers from where he is, but it is too late. The missile hits.

The explosion rips through the village behind them, a violent bloom of fire and sound that shakes the ground beneath their feet. Light flashes through the trees, unnatural and blinding.

Creatures flee and everything alive reacts. “No!” Neytiri’s voice breaks into something raw, already turning back. Jake doesn’t hesitate this time. “Go!”

They run.

Back at the village, it’s chaos. Flames devour the edges of huts. Smoke coils thick into the sky. The sound of sky peopl weapons cuts through everything—sharp, mechanical, wrong.

People scatter, some fighting, some trying to pull others to safety. And then you arrive at the edge like a shadow.

Silent. still and watching. Your chest rises and falls once, then you lift your bow. Everything else disappears, you move along the outer edges, slipping between trees, using darkness and smoke like armor.

Your arrows fly, clean and precise. A Sky Person drops before they even understand what hit them.

You don’t stop, you shoot many more. Your movements are sharp, controlled—every shot intentional.

There is no hesitation here, no second guessing, no waiting for someone to notice you. This is where you exist.

Inside the chaos, Jake is commanding, pulling people back, redirecting fighters. “Fall back! Move the children now!”

Your mom is already ahead of him—faster, deadlier. Every arrow she fires finds its mark, but neither of them sees you.

You’re too far out like always. A sky person turns, weapon lifting. You draw faster, but the release is too slow. The crack splits the air, you don’t even register the sound properly.

Just the impact, it hits your side hard enough to spin you. Your breath vanishes instantly as you’re thrown off balance, crashing into the ground. The world tilts, blurs.. your bow slipping from your grip before you can snatch it back.

For a second, you feel nothing. No pain, just ringing silence. Then, it comes. Your body folds slightly, a sharp, broken inhale tearing through your chest as something hot and deep ignites in your side.

Your hand moves instinctively, it presses—just enough pressure, but it is wet. You look down, your hand is dark, shaking.

Your jaw clenches tight, you force yourself up, every movement slower now, tighter. You pick up your bow again, and you keep fighting.

You don’t let yourself stop, you don’t even let yourself think. You move through the pain, through the heat, through the way your body is starting to feel heavier than it should.

You hit another demon, another target. Another breath you almost lose. By the time the sky people retreat, you’re barely steady.

But you’re still standing, so it doesn’t matter. You leave before anyone can see.

The village slowly regathers itself. Smoke drifts through what remains. The fires are being put out. Voices are lower now.. shaken, exhausted.

Jake moves quickly, checking everyone. “Tuk?”

“I’m here!” She says, running into his arms. He pulls her in, relief flashing across his face.

Lo’ak, Kiri, Neteyam. He checks them, one by one—everyone is safe and alive. “Where’s Y/n? did anybody see her?" he asks suddenly.

There’s a pause, a long one. Your siblings exchange hesitant looks. Neytiri’s head lifts slightly, eyes closing. “She is not here.” She sighs.

Jake’s chest tightens. “Damn it-” They don’t wait this time, they move to leave again—to find you.

Another distant rumble sounds, not as close.. but enough to make them pause.

Your father looks back. The village is still vulnerable, still recovering. There are injured villagers, children crying.

Not safe, your mother sees it too, Jake’s pull back, his silent choice to stay. He exhales sharply, jaw tightening.

“We secure the village first,” he says, voice firm but strained. Your mother doesn’t argue.. and they turn away.

You come back alone, the village is different now, of course it is, it is quiet, and cold. Your steps are slower, but still steady, your hand never leaves your side, pressed tight and holding everything in.

You move toward your hut, walking in on just your family. You hold yourself together, not crying, whimpering, not even a limp. You just walk to your space and set your things down.

Night falls so fast. The sounds of the village dims into something mute and distant. Soft footsteps, the crackle of what little fire remains.

Inside the hut, your family settles again. Slow and careful, as if everyone is pretending things are normal.

You sit in your hammock, unmoving. Your hand is still pressed to your side and it hasn’t left. At some point, the others lie down. One by one, the shift of bodies, the quiet murmurs, the slow rhythm of sleep beginning to take hold.

No one looks at you long enough to notice that you sit holding yourself together with just your palm. Besides, they are all sleeping.

You lay down gently on your side, knees drawn in slightly. the ache in your side grows sharper and hotter, gnawing at you until it’s unbearable. Try to ignore it at first, thinking you can will it away, thinking no one needs to see you like this.

But it only spreads, twisting deeper, coiling into panic. A strangled gasp escapes, sharp and sudden. You bite your lip, trying to keep it back, but the pain wins. “Dad…!” The cry is desperate, high, cracking in your throat.

It cuts through the quiet of the night, and it shakes your small body. You press your hand harder, sobs breaking through as your body trembles uncontrollably. “Dad, please…”

“Daddy I didn’t mean to- earlier. Dad, I didn’t!” You cry, wondering if he’s hearing you, if he’s awake. “Dad?”

“Yeah?” His voice is thick with sleep, but awake.

Your sobs tear free uncontrollably, raw and unfiltered.

“Y/n..” he murmurs, the sound of him moving fast reaches your ears, the thud of his feet against the woven floor, the rustle of his body as he reaches for you.

Your eyes flutter for one second and he takes your wrist immediately, uncovering the wound. “Oh my- why did you hide this, baby?!”

“I don’t- I’m sorry! I- I thought you’d be angry!”

He frowns deeply, the sounds of your cries rouse your siblings and mother awake, they hesitate for a moment.

“What’s going on” Lo’ak says groggily.

“Who is crying?” Kiri says.

Neteyam is the first to join Jake’s side, hands reaching for your face. “Stay with us.” He says firmly.

You cry, squeezing your father’s arm. Your mother rushes over, brushing carefully past Neteyam and gripping your shoulders, forehead against yours.

Your body is still shaking, breaths breaking apart as pain pulses through your side.

But the pain doesn’t just sit in your side—it pulses through everything, sharp and consuming, stealing the air from your lungs in broken pieces. Your fingers clutch at your father’s arm like it’s the only solid thing left in the world.

“stay with me,” Jake says, but his voice is different now, not sharp, not impatient. It’s unsteady.

He is afraid.

His hands hover for a second like he doesn’t know where to touch without hurting you more—then one settles against your cheek, grounding, warm. “Look at me. Y/n.”

You try but your vision blurs, tears mixing with the haze, but you force your eyes open just enough to find him. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to make you mad.” Your voice fractures under the weight of it.

that’s what breaks his heart. “no, hey,” he shakes his head quickly, pulling you closer without thinking, like he’s trying to hold you together himself. “You’re not- I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you.” His voice drops, rough, thick. “Never.”

Your breath stutters again, body curling tighter despite the pain.

Beside him, Neytiri is already moving, fast, precise, hands firm but gentle as she inspects the wound. The moment her fingers press near it, her expression changes.

Fear. “She’s losing too much blood,” Neytiri says sharply, but her voice trembles at the edges. “Why did you not come back sooner? Why did you not tell us?”

You don’t answer because you honestly can’t. Because the answer is sitting right there between all of you, unspoken but louder than anything.

Because you didn’t think anyone would notice.

Neteyam’s hands stay steady on your face, his forehead pressing briefly against yours. He speaks low, urgent, “You’re okay. You hear me? You’re staying.”

Lo’ak is frozen a few feet away, guilt hitting too late, too hard. He doesn’t speak at first—just stares at the blood on your side like he doesn’t understand how it got there.

Kiri’s arms wrap around herself, her earlier words hanging between you two like something rotten. She looks at you now and her voice comes out smaller than ever before. “Y/n,”

From the other side, tiny hands grab onto your arm. “Y/n…” Tuktirey whispers, already crying again. “You’re gonna be okay, okay?”

Your grip tightens weakly around your father’s hand. “Dad…” you whisper again, softer now, like you’re slipping somewhere he can’t follow. “ I tried to be good. To fight back.”

His entire expression crumples. Something inside Jake gives way completely. “Hey- no, no, no,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You don’t have to try to earn that. You hear me? You never should have.”

His voice cracks fully, openly now. “I love you.”

The words come out like they’ve been trapped for too long. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it. I’m sorry I didn’t show it-“ his grip tightens, almost desperate, like if he lets go you’ll disappear, “but you don’t get to leave thinking you had to fight for a place in this family. You already have one. You always have.”

Your breath hitches. For just a second the pain dulls under something else, something warmer.

Neytiri moves, pressing cloth firmly to your wound, her hands steady even as her voice softens when she leans close to you. “Stay with us, ma’ite. stay.”

“Sa’nu..” you sigh, eyes softening just briefly. Your body trembles again, but this time your hand doesn’t just clutch your side. it shifts, weakly, until it presses against your father’s.

Around you, everything is different now. The silence that once ignored you is gone. replaced by voices, by hands, by urgency, and by a fear of losing you.

By love that came too late. but not too late.

You wake up wrapped in comfy sheets and the same clothes you were shot in. Herbal smoke drifts in the air like the song of a new day, the sun casting gold streaks across the hut.

Your entire family is asleep around you, you stir faintly, reaching for the bowl of water, but it drops from your weak hands.

You wince slightly as your siblings and parents stir, your father is alarmed and stands too quickly, “Y/n.. baby, you okay?”

“Yes. I need water.”

He stands, scooping up the bowl and filling it with water. He puts the bowl to your lips and tilts it slightly, filling your mouth with water.

When you’re done drinking, you look down and notice the bandaging at your middle. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Three days.”

“Three? I should be okay to walk.” You try to stand, but Jake physically holds you back, guiding you down gently.

“Not yet. We’ll work on that together, okay?”

“Why? I mean, three days..”

“Yeah, three days of sleep.”

Your siblings and your mother are already awake behind your father.

Your mother is already closer than she’s ever been without you calling for her. Her eyes aren’t scanning the room, not checking on anyone else—they’re on you entirely. There’s something unsettled in them still, something guilty, but something else too.

She’s not looking away this time.

Tuk is the closest to you already, fingers brushing your arm softly. “I told you that you would be okay.” She smiles.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” you say.

Your mother steps closer now, slow, like approaching something fragile. Her hand lifts, hesitates for the briefest second—then rests against your hair, smoothing it back from your face.

The gesture is so soft it almost hurts more than the wound. “You do not decide that alone anymore,” she says quietly.

No sharpness or correction. Just the truth.

Behind her, Lo’ak finally speaks, voice rougher than usual. “That was.. stupid,” he mutters.

Neteyam shoots him a look.

“What?” Lo’ak adds quickly, but it’s weaker now. “Not- not like that. I just mean-” he exhales, frustrated with himself, then finally looks at you. “You should’ve said something.”

Kiri shifts beside him, arms uncrossing slowly. “We didn’t make it easy,” she admits, quieter than you’ve ever heard her.

That one settles deeper and no one rushes to fill the silence after that.

Your father’s hand squeezes your shoulder slightly. “We’re gonna do better,” he says.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Tuk leans into you more, her head pressing gently against your arm. “You didn’t forget, right?” she murmurs.

You blink. “Forget what?”

She tilts her head up at you, eyes wide but certain. “That we love you.”

The question hangs there—but it doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before. Because now you have something to measure it against.

You glance around the room again. At your father, who hasn’t let go. At your mother, who hasn’t looked away. At your siblings, who are still here—with you, not around you.

Your fingers tighten slightly around Tuk’s hand. ““No,” you say, voice quiet, but steady.

Their love has never been forgotten, just hard to see. Your father exhales, something in him easing at that. He leans forward just slightly, pressing his lips briefly against your forehead—careful of the bandages, careful of you.

“We’ll make sure you don’t have to wonder again,” he murmurs.

And this time, it doesn’t feel like something you have to earn.

Weeks of healing and your families tentative care pass, your father helps you walk, your siblings bring you refreshments without you having to ask, and your mother stays by your side.

She sings to you your songcord at night, she rebraids your hair when she notices that they need fixing, she steadies you when your nightmares become too much to handle, and for once—she isn’t choosing someone else entirely over you.

You are theirs, and they continue to make sure that you see it and feel it. You are no longer standing in between, you are finally, undeniably held.

Burden : ̗̀➛

⟢ Pairings: Ao’nung x Sully!Reader

⟢ Warnings: Chocking, suffocating, mention of self hate, medical talking may not be accurate, some characters may be oc, feeling unwanted, panic attack, anxiety

⟢ Author’s note: I had so much fun writing this, and I did them both cause I felt like they were kind of the same thing I hope y’all like it! Forgive me for any mistakes🙏

Enjoy!🫶❤️

Main masterlist

You were born wrong.

That’s what the people said when you were small. Some made it their mission to avoid you in every way. Kids looked at you weirdly, some making fun of you by repeating what they had heard their elders whisper.

A curse was what you were called.

All because you were different.

Different in a weird way, not like your siblings who had small insignificant traits that did not affect their everyday life.

You had human lungs.

They worked, mostly, but they burned when you ran too long, seized when the air was too cold, didn’t let you breathe pandora’s air for more than a few hours.

But it didn’t bother you as much, because at first, it was small so it was easy to ignore.

The first time happened around the age of 7, you were on a hunt, just you and your mother.

The forest quiet except for birdsong and the soft crunch of leaves beneath your feet. You kept pace easily, following your mother with a happy smile, bow steady in your hands, until a dull ache bloomed in your chest.

Not pain but pressure like.

Your lungs felt tight, like the air wasn’t filling them all the way, as if it wasn’t enough. Your back ached, a strange soreness that made you shift uncomfortably.

Your heart was pounding too fast.

You tired to shake it off, you told yourself it was nothing. You didn’t want Neytiri to worry.

You were strong.

You were a Sully.

So you suppressed it until you didn’t feel it again. And you did the same thing the other times too, you pushed it aside until it didn’t bother you anymore.

But then it started getting worse the older you got, until it led to the incident that changed your life.

It happened the night of your tenth birthday.

The family’s Kelku was quiet, light long faded, your family slept peacefully, everyone in their own hammocks.

Neytiri opened her eyes, ears perking up at the sound of soft, broken gasps.

For a heartbeat, she didn’t understand what she was hearing. Eyes darting around the room until her eyes settled on you.

You were sitting upright in your hammock, fingers digging into the fabric, your knuckles were hurting. Your chest heaving violently, breaths sharp and fast, like you were drowning on the air. Your eyes were wide, teary with panic.

“Y/n?” Neytiri whispered, already moving to stand next to you. Placing her hand on your arms she felt you trembling like a leaf.

“Mama..”you managed to choke, hands going to your neck. You tried to speak, to tell her but no incoherent words were coming out.

Fear slammed into her, her hands trembling as she felt helpless, she immediately turned to her mate shouting. “Ma Jake!” voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around you“Ma Jake!”

Jake bolted upright instantly, ears flattened against his head, eyes darting to his mate. Once he looked at you, gasping and trembling in your mother’s arms, the color drained from his face.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, feet quick to move at your side.

“She cannot breathe”Neytiri said, panic leaking into every word. “Her heart—listen—”she tried to explain but the sobs that were coming out of her mouth made it impossible.

Jake pressed his ear to your chest, and his blood ran cold at the way it was beating far too fast.

You gasped again, a desperate sound, body curling in on itself as your lungs refused to cooperate.

Your siblings woke up at the commotion, little Lo’ak cried as he got startled by the noise, while Kiri gripped tightly the fabric of her hammock in fear. Neteyam was the one who stood up, going to your side and peeking from behind his father’s shoulders.

“No, no, no” Jake muttered, looking around for a solution, for anything that could help. “Okay, it’s okay, we’ve got you.”

You were crying, tears streaming down your face, fear settling in. In that moment you were convinced death was knocking at your door.

Neteyam’s ears flattened, terror struck him as he watched you become pale.

Neytiri’s breath shattered, hold tightening around you. Her mind was foggy she could not think nor see clearly as she held you close.

“Oh great mother..” she cried, whispering and pleading for Eywa to protect you and keep you by her side.

Jake didn’t waste another second.

”You stay here and look after your siblings”he said to Neteyam, who quickly nodded. He then lifted you into his arms, turning to his mate “we’re going to Norm. Now.”

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Norm nearly dropped his tablet when he saw you, jaw on the floor.

“Oh shit” he breathed, already moving to turn on the machines and devices.

Your oxygen levels were crashing. Your lungs were inflamed, spasming, behaving nothing like a Na’vi’s should.

“It’s a mutation” Norm explained quickly as he worked, fitting a mask over your face that pumped mist into your lungs. A nebulizer, adapted from human tech, modified. “It’s a Genetic expression delay. It starts showing with puberty”.

Jake’s stomach dropped. “It’s from me”he said quietly, jaw clenched.

Norm nodded slowly “yeah, it’s human’s lung structure trying to function in a Na’vi body. It’s… rare, but survivable”.

Jake stood frozen, guilt crushing him.

The medication burned at first, then slowly your breathing eased. Your chest loosened, air finally filled your lungs without pain and so you went limp from exhaustion.

Neytiri sobbed silently, thanking the great mother as she pressed kisses to your hair.

“She’ll be having other episodes” Norm continued, breaking the silence. “She’ll need meds, a portable breathing device and monitoring”.

“…Will she live?” Jake questioned, barely audible.

Norm met his eyes with a grim expression”yes, but it’s gonna be scary”.

And it was, every time.

Because that night was just the beginning of what was gonna be a long nightmare.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

There were days where you just hated it.

It felt like you were a stranger in your own body.

You felt uncomfortable, especially on those days were the attacks were painful and made you want to claw your way out of your skin.

Your family made it their mission to make you feel normal, even with all the machines you had to sit next to once a day or the way you couldn’t keep up during training.

But you knew the truth.

You were a burden.

You were nothing more than a thorn at their side, you slowed your siblings down whenever you were playing.

You always worried your mother, she never rested easy whenever you went out. Always waiting to see you come back, praying to Eywa that you do not have one of those attacks that might take you from her.

Your father was much more gentler with you, too gentle, in a way that irked you. Because he treated you like a helpless little creature.

You had stricter rules to follow if you wanted to go out.

You weren’t allowed to train seriously like your brothers because then you would strain yourself too much.

You needed to be with someone at all times or else your parents were gonna freak out.

Like the last time.

You had decided to sneak out in the middle of a scolding that Jake and Neytiri were giving to Lo’ak, after another one of his brilliant ideas failed, you didn’t go very far after all you were scared too.

You were laying on the ground, fingers feeling the grass beneath you, chuckling as you felt tickled by it. The forest was alive around you.

And for the first time after a long time you had felt free, your cheek pressed against the grass as you breathed in the air slowly. It burned a little, stinging just enough to get your eyes to water but you did not care.

Because it was just you and the forest, and you had missed this.

After a while, after the burning sensation started to bother you, you stood up, making your way back to the family’s Kelku.

With each step you took, with each breath that you inhaled the burning sensation started to turn into something more.

You walked quicker as you felt your breath being pulled away slowly, panic rising in your chest.

Thankfully you were not far away and you began to hear your brother’s voice calling for you, tone filled with panic.

Once he spotted you he was quick to run to your side, noticing the way your pace was slowing and your chest was rising faster with each breath, trying to cling to the last bit of air.

“She’s here! Dad!”Lo’ak placed his hands on your forearms, guiding you to sit on the ground as he kept calling for his father to come quick.

Jake came running, sprinting through the woods with a mask on his hand.

As soon as he reached you and your brother he was quick to active the nebulizer and gently place it on your face. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay”he guided you, gesturing you to take slow deep breaths.

He let out a big breath of relief once he heard you gasp and inhale, hands trembling, going to your chest to hear your heart beat slow down and go back to normal.

He hugged you tightly, before pulling away to check on you. “What were you thinking?”he questioned, voice harsh but you could still hear the underline of worry in it.

“I wanted to go out alone for once..”you answered, standing up with the help of your younger brother, knees trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry..”you continued, voice low , gaze locked to the ground, ears flattened against your head, almost disappearing.

You hated seeing your family worry so much about you.

There were nights were Kiri did not sleep. Instead she stayed by your side, scared that you were gonna be taken from her in the middle of the night.

You could feel it, you always sensed her footsteps approaching your hammock slowly. Sometimes she even squeezed herself next to you, head against your chest to feel your heartbeat.

Lo’ak did the same but he was more sneaky about it. He woke up during the night to check on you silently, putting his fingers under your nose to see if you were still breathing.

Neteyam did not wake up in the middle of the night but he was always by your side during the day. You were mostly with him, taking walks even if he could sometimes get too protective as well. But training with him was much less overbearing than with your father.

You did not like to train with your father since it ended up with you either getting frustrated with the fact that he did not let you do anything outside of shooting arrows, or with him being too worried, too cautious to the point where he just sent you home.

The outcome was always the same.

You getting frustrated.

Tuk was the only one in the family to actually make you feel normal.

She just loved to be in your presence.

You would carve her wood animals, that she asked for with her usual puppy eyes that you could not refuse.

Or braid her hair in a pretty way adding flowers, beads and everything she asked as she ranted about something she has seen today.

Or she’ll do your hair in a messy way, little hands working as best as they could but you always praised her for her hard work, never making her feel bad for making you have to redo your hair all over again.

However you still did not feel like you belonged anywhere truly.

You spent most of the time in the lab since you could feel free there, the air was safe and breathable, you even spent the night there when the attacks were too close to one another. Neytiri reluctantly agreed to let you.

But you were not human, at least you were not physically human, so the lab was not your place. You were too big, sometimes your tail knocked over things or other times you would break something while holding it.

But you also did not feel Na’vi. As much as you loved the forest and the people you did not think they reciprocated.

The people looked at you through judgmental gazes, not many went out of their way to talk to you or even be nice to you.

So that was why you did not make as much as a fuss as your siblings about leaving the forest.

You were sad, after all you would have to leave your grandmother, the place where you grew up and all the memories you made.

You would miss the forest, but you were sure she would not miss you.

Throughout the ride, behind your father’s back, you smiled as you admired the ocean beneath, the creatures swimming by.

Even if you could not feel the wind blowing on your face since you had the mask on, something Jake was being paranoid about, you could still feel it on your skin and it was the best sensation ever.

You never rode an Ikran, never bonded with one.

You parents did not even let you think about having one of your own, so you could only imagine what it would have been like flying freely like your siblings in the air, with no care whatsoever.

The sensation bought you shivers down your back, smile widening as you stirred one hand out.

Neteyam who was riding close by, turned to see you beam with happiness and he smiled at the sight. Signaling it to Lo’ak, who also let a smile slip past his lips.

In times of sadness and sorrow your happiness managed to bring them joy.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Once you landed on what was the Metkayina clan’s territory, your father helped you climb down the Ikran.

Your toes wiggled as you felt the sand, it was nothing like the grass back home. The texture was more grainy and smooth.

The excitement at the new place quickly died down once you noticed the people there look at your family with gazes that were usually redirected to you only.

Your mother quickly hissed at you to come behind her, and you obliged immediately, trying to hide from their view.

Neteyam took a protective stance, taking a step forward to shield you once he noticed the way you fidgeted with your hands, usually a sign of stress from your part.

You stood with your mask still on, fingers flexing at your sides as the waves rolled in and out. You almost gave in to your desire of inhaling and feeling the fresh air against your face but you knew this wasn’t the right time.

You felt as if you were naked in front of these people.

Their eyes darting to your family’s features, brows furrowing as they noticed the thin tails and arms, wondering how they could live with them with such useless tails, but their frown deepened once they set their gaze on you, looking confused at the thing you seemed to be having on your face.

Your ears flattened as you watched the Tsahik of the Metkayna clan humiliate your family, walking toward your siblings slowly, judging them. Pointing out Kiri’s five fingers however once her own gaze set on you she gave you the same look her people did.

“And what is this?”she questioned harshly, taking a step closer toward you. Lo’ak tensed as he stepped forward to shield you. But before she could add anything your mother hissed at her, reminding her just who her husband was.

Your eyes felt glassy, at that point you did not pay attention to their conversation, too engrossed in your own spiraling thoughts.

You did not know why you had such high hopes for this place to be any different than your own home.

Your tail swayed behind you, eyes darting nervously everywhere for an exit, chest tightening by the second.

Your fist clenched as you tried to calm your nerves down, biting your lips hard enough to draw blood.

Kiri noticed from the corner of her eyes, she wrapped her poncho around you, hands going to yours, squeezing them softly to reassure you.

You let out a deep breath before turning to her with a small grateful smile that she reciprocated.

Your ears perked up when you heard the Olo'eyktan announce that your family will be staying and learning the Metkayna ways.

You turned to look at the kids that were supposed to help you adjust to this place.

Your eyes met the tallest one’s, his gaze was so intense, making you grow uncomfortable as you shifted in your place before he looked away, focus stolen by something the other one next to him said.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

The girl, who you had heard was named Tsireya, showed you the way around, bringing you to what was supposed to be your new home.

You entered the place curiously, hands touching everything in sight, fascinated by this new place above the sea. This was so different from the forest you were used to but it was so enchanting.

It didn’t take you long to adjust to the sea unlike your siblings, to hold your breath or learn to swim.

The air there was not that harmful to you, but you still needed to be careful. So you kept a mask by your side at all times, something your parents made sure you never forgot.

The first time you breathe the air, you did not feel the burning sensation you usually felt.

You took a careful breath.

Then another.

For once, your lungs didn’t scream at you for existing.

They hesitated but they didn’t seize.

The ocean air was different.

Thick, wet, heavy, welcoming in a way that the forest air never was.

It was like the sea was your true home.

Your family stayed paranoid about it though, you always felt their eyes on you.

Someone was always by your side no matter what, but since your siblings were mostly busy you always managed to slip away for a few seconds.

With time you managed to get out of your shell and speak to the others. Although the ones you truly talked to outside of your family were Tsireya and Roxto.

The one you haven’t spoken a single word to was the eldest boy, Ao’nung.

You had to be honest, you were intimidated by his presence and the way he looked at you sometimes made you feel like a wounded prey out in the open. He did not have a nice reputation around your family either.

He made fun of them, calling them names and mocking their appearances. However he never said anything to you.

Perhaps it was because you avoided him like a disease whenever he seemed to open his mouth or step closer, or perhaps he knew you weren’t worth the effort and just left you alone, which you did not mind.

Until one day you were sitting peacefully by the water, the waves came crashing gently on the shore, the sun was shining brightly.

You had managed to slip away from your family’s firm watch, deciding to sit on the sand and weave a necklace for your mother. A gift you thought would be nice to give her since you rarely saw her smile these last few weeks.

You were humming softly a random tune you had picked up until a set of footsteps caught your attention.

You turned around immediately, meeting Ao’nung’s gaze.

He was walking closer to you and you felt your stomach drop.

Before you could get up and take off like always, he raised his hands in surrender. “Please don’t run, i did not came here to fight”he spoke, tone softer than usual.

You reluctantly went back to sit down, easing your hold on the strings that you had crushed with your fist.

He followed suit, dropping down on the sand a few inches away from you.

Even without looking at him you could feel his gaze on you”can I ask what you are weaving?” He questioned, gaze slipping to the strings and beads you had in hand.

You hesitated, gaze locked to the ground beneath you before you answered”it is a gift for my mother”.

You heard him let out a breathless chuckle, ”I could help you weave it the way we do it”he offered.

You turned to him surprised, meeting his gaze again”you would?” Your voice came out much more lower than you intended but thankfully he was close enough to hear it.

He nodded once, a smile tugging at his lips. “If you are gonna stay here, you might as well learn the way we weave”.

You lost track of time, hands following his movements, brows furrowed as you listened carefully to his words. A comfortable air settled over you two, you almost forgot this was the same boy who insulted your siblings constantly.

He looked so different.

His tone was gentle, he never shamed you once for the mistakes you made only teaching you patiently over and over again, never once complaining.

Soon one time became all the times.

You two met in the same spot every evening before darkness set so he could teach you more mundane works.

It became a secret meeting for you two, and since then he has been less mean with your siblings. Instead of picking on Lo’ak, he just focused on teaching him the right techniques with some occasional slip of the tongue but it has been getting better.

Your siblings were all shocked by his sudden change of attitude. Lo’ak said it freaked him out since he wasn’t sure it was genuine, but you believed it.

Because you got to see his soft side when no one was there.

It was the first time someone outside of your family treated you with gentleness and patient instead of insults or weird stares.

And whenever he smiled your chest tightened, but it wasn’t because of an attack.

You almost didn’t get many attacks anymore, they lessened by the day. It got to the point where you forgot to bring a mask with you, even if your family freaked out once they saw you walk back in without one.

You finally felt normal.

Or so you thought.

Because you had let your guard down.

It happened while you were laughing.

Really laughing, head tipped back, the ocean breeze filling your lungs as Ao’nung splashed you, smug grin plastered on his face.

“You are slow, forest girl” he teased.

“Oh, shut up” you shoot back, laughing harder as you chased him through the shallows.

And then your chest tightened.

Painfully.

Your breath stuttered, cut off like the air itself has turned solid. You stopped mid-step, fingers clawing at your throat as your lungs refused to pull in enough air.

Aonung turned just in time to see your smile vanish.

“Hey—” he started, tone filled with confusion.

You dropped to your knees.

That’s when panic slammed into him.

He splashed back to you, hands shaking as he grabbed your shoulders. “Are you alright?”

You’re trying to breathe, desperately. Your chest heaved, lungs burning, spots appearing in your vision.

You gasped but nothing came.

Aonung yelled for help.

Neteyam, Kiri and Lo’ak were close enough to hear his shouts and ran to help. When they came closer their hearts dropped as they saw you.

They were on you in seconds.

Neteyam’s hands were steady as he worked to help you, but his eyes were wild, ears flattened against his head.

Kiri pressed her forehead to yours, glowing fingers warm against your arm as she whispered prayers under her breath. Lo’ak’s face drained of any colors, his hands trembling, not sure what to do until Neteyam told him to run back and get the nebulizer.

Ao’nung looked wrecked.

He was hovering, pacing, muttering frantically.

“She was fine—she was laughing—I don’t understand..”

Ao’nung had heard you had some problems, breathing ones. He did not know the full extension of it, but he did notice how you would sometimes look dizzy or that strange thing you always had either on your face or strapped to your waist.

He had heard from your siblings, once he made peace with them, that you had some kind of “attacks” related to the breathing problems.

He never knew how scary they truly were.

Lo’ak came back running, device in hand before he threw it to Neteyam, who quickly activated it and placed it on your face.

Finally, your lungs caught.

Air rushed in, sharp and painful. You coughed violently, chest spasming as you folded forward, gulping breath like you’ve been underwater too long.

Neteyam exhaled so hard his shoulders sagged.

Kiri squeezed your hand like she’ll never let go.

And Aonung dropped to his knees in front of you, eyes blazing, hands reaching for yours.

“Please” Lo’ak blurted, also dropping down next to you. “Stop trying to die.”

You managed a weak laugh between coughs. “Not—trying—”

When you turned, you were surprised to see Ao’nung looking so wrecked. Seeing fear in his eyes hurt worse than the burning in your chest.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

After that incident Ao’nung has been glued to your side whenever he saw you. The memory of the attack still imprinted on his mind.

During your meetings you could feel him hovering slightly, he began reminding you to not forget your mask, sometimes his hand reached for yours unconsciously.

You did not mind.

Your own gaze seemed to be always redirected toward him. You had found yourself admiring him more than you would have realized.

Your meetings became longer and filled with many conversations unlike before, where you usually stayed silent and he did most of the talking while showing you the Metkayna’s ways.

What you thought was a friendship quickly started to bloom into something more.

During festivals, where you preferred to stay far enough to not interact with others but close enough to hear the music, he stayed with you.

When other reef kids tried to make fun of the mask you wore from time to time, he was quick to defend you. Just a look from him was enough to make the others walk away, not wanting to pick a fight with the chief’s son.

When you first bonded with an Ilu, he took you swimming to his favorite place. A beach not too far away from the village, you stayed there for hours. Splashing each other, running or sitting down on the sand, chatting about everything that came to mind.

You had found yourself falling for the Metkayna boy.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

One day, you were in the water, not too deep in, playing with young Ilus. He had come from behind you, startling you.

“Ao’nung”you spoke, placing a hand to your chest. “You scared me! Skxawng”.

He chuckled, tilting his head to truly admire you.

“My apologies, I did not know you could get scared that easily”he answered smugly.

You rolled your eyes at him, before he placed one of his hand on your upper arm, heat rushed to your cheeks.

You had just noticed how close he was.

“I came here to confess something”he spoke again, this time his voice was gentler, his smug grin vanishing instead replaced by a vulnerable look.

You nodded your head once, encouraging him to continue, gaze locked with his.

He took a careful breath before opening his mouth.

”I see you.”

Your eyes widened, mouth agape.

“I have, since I first set my gaze on you if I was completely honest”he let out a weak chuckle. “You are beloved to me…I have made many mistakes that I’m not proud of and I’m trying to fix what I have done”.

He stepped closer, the water moving alongside him.

You stayed frozen for a second.

Heart racing in your chest. Breath hitching.

“You won’t be happy with me..”you finally spoke, voice breaking, cutting him off before he could add anything else. “I am a joke, I’m not a true Na’vi. I’m not what you deserve“you finished, eyes glassy.

He took his other arm from behind his back, in his hand there was a necklace.

A beautiful necklace.

Woven from translucent beads and soft pearls, gathered around a large shell pendant that glowed with ocean hues, as if shaped entirely by sea rather than his hands.

You gasped in surprise, taken aback.

“I had been working on it for months, switching materials until I thought it was beautiful enough”he said, smiling at the way you admired the necklace. “Although now I can see that there is no match for your beauty”.

Your cheeks flushed, tail swishing behind you.

“You are no joke”he started again”I believe you were sent by Eywa herself, you are a blessing to me”.

He met your gaze, you swallowed still not sure about what to say or do.

He noticed how you seemed to hesitate. ”I will not force you to be with me”his gaze dropped, looking at the art craft in his hands.

“I just thought I should let you know.”

You noticed the way sadness washed over his face.

He thought you were rejecting him.

You smiled, reaching up, fingers brushing his cheek.

“I see you, Ao’nung”you whispered, smile widening at the way he beamed with happiness.

He placed the necklace around your neck, every time his fingers brushed your skin you felt heat rise up to your cheeks.

He then leaned closer and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Just as you thought his lips would touch yours, he placed a kiss on your temple.

“I will protect you” he promised “If you slow, I slow. If you stop, I catch you.”

You placed your forehead against his collarbone, his tail wrapped loosely around your leg.

“I want to become the man you deserve.”