Memories - M.d.

memories - m.d. 

summary: reader is a songwriter that’s reminiscing about their favorite memories with miguel. 

requested: yes! (woo!!)

pairing: miguel diaz  x gn!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, soft miguel

w/c: 531 words

a/n: i refused to make this concept just headcannons, i was too excited to write it. it kinda steers away from the main concept, hope that’s alright! 

a/n 2: bold and italics are memories/flashbacks !!

The room was filled with only the sounds of you writing in your journal. You were sparked with a sudden burst of creativity, reminiscing the early days of your relationship with Miguel.

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ahhhh i love it!!!!! thank you so much!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

Miguel falling in love with a former black widow. 

summary: meet cute + extra headcannons

requested: yes! (woo!!)

pairing: miguel diaz x black widow!reader 

genre: friends to lovers (sort of) 

w/c: 516 words

a/n: it’s been awhile since i’ve watched anything marvel related so i apologize if anything is inaccurate. 

You would go to the All Valley Tournament to see why the city was so obsessed with the art of karate, or maybe to even criticize everyone’s moves.

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ IN EVERY UNIVERSE .

— when traveling across multiple universes, miles learns the two of you are together in every single one .

e1610! miles morales x black! fem! reader .

miles pants as he’s in a universe that looks eerily similar to his own, but he knows it’s not his due to the sound of his own voice ringing from his bedroom. miles soundly walks through the house — going unnoticed due to his invisibility — and peeks through his bedroom door to see you and miles sitting on his bed, you placing stickers on his face.

“just stay still!” you giggled, placing a heart sticker on his tip of his nose. “what are we doing this for again?” miles asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could but not being able to hide the amusement in his voice. “gotta take pictures of you for our scrap book, plus i can’t let these stickers go to waste.” you tell him, snapping a picture on your phone and smiling when looking at the results. “see! isn’t it cute?” you questioned your miles, a love struck look in his brown eyes.

-

the next universe was by far his favorite. miles walked around looking at the pictures that hung on the walls or were placed carefully on a table or shelf, it was pictures of you and him — about 10 years older — with two little kids, one boy one girl. miles was taken out of his train of thought when he heard the giggles of a little girl. he waited to make sure no one else was in the way and he poked his head in through the crack in the door, watching you put the little girl’s afro into two puffs held together with pink ribbons.

“is daddy gonna like my hair?” the girl asks you, looking up at you with curious eyes. “well i dunno. let’s go find out, yeah?” miles instinctively moved out of the way and watched you and the little girl walk into the room where older miles was, watching your daughter jump on the bed and ask — “do you like my hair?” just for him to respond with picking her up and telling her how much he loves it.

-

the last universe miles was able to travel to was interesting. in this universe, it was just you and him inside an assumed shared apartment. miles tip-toes down the hall to hear you laughing at something he said.

“miles, just put the mask on!” you tell him, a goofy grin on your face. “i’m trying! the wand is too small.” miles complains, struggling to get the mask on his face. “here, lemme do it.” you say, taking the wand from his hand and applying it yourself, watching miles look down at you with love. “there.” you say, proud of your work. “now, let me do your nails!” you grin, watching miles’ eyes go wide.

“like paint them?” miles asks, following you with his eyes while you walk around the bathroom and gather the clippers and clear nail polish. “kinda. it’s a clear coat and it helps with breakage and stuff.” you tell him, coaxing him to sit on the toilet seat. “it won’t show?” miles asks, sadness in his voice. “well why are you sad about it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “i just wanna show everyone what good of a nail artist my girlfriend is.” miles says, a dopey grin on your face. “we can do blue afterwards, i promise.” you say to him, smiling right back.

-

and this universe, miles was finally home. he knocks on your door, being let in by your mom.

“what brings you over here, miles?” your mom grinned, leaning against the door. “is it okay if i stay over? mom and dad are working late and i don’t wanna be alone.” miles says, twiddling his thumbs. “of course! rio and jeff know you’re here, right?” your mom asked, letting miles in. “of course. thank you.” miles says, practically racing up the stairs and into your room.

“miles!” you exclaimed, seeing him walk into your room. “hey, y/n!” he exclaimed back, catching you with a grin when you threw yourself into a hug. “where’ve you been?” you asked, checking his face to make sure he was okay. “had to stay over at school, just some project stuff.” miles shrugged. “oh, and i brought some face masks and a new notebook!” miles says, holding up the bag excitedly. “what’s the notebook for?” you ask, flipping thought the pages.

“i thought we could take up scrapbooking.” miles grins.

-

a/n this was based off of an idea i saw on my feed and i can’t find it 😞

TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @princesslilisworld @mxspiderman2099 @marcelineormars @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie

PLATONIC FICS ARE SO UNDERRATED I LOVE THEM

Ayo can I request a platonic 1610 miles x older fem reader. Like she acts like an older sister to him and she visits him in his dimension. Bonus if his parents love her.

Dynamic Duo

1610 Miles x Platonic fem! reader

Synopsis! Miles never really cared for having another sibling until he met you

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, just fluff.

Warnings: mentions of dead sibling, foul language

Word count: .7k

Authors comment: THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER IM CRYING. Two posts about Miles in one cause why not? ENJOY <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to axeoverblade

•when you first met Miles you two clicked immediately

•He reminded you of your late little brother

•even though it made you sad at first to be around Miles cause of the nostalgia of it, you grew extremely fond of him over time and vise versa

• Bad habit of calling him youngin and he gets SO PISSED

• “what’s good youngin” “I’m not even that young shut the hell up”

• would get in trouble often with Miguel because you two “weren’t using your watches properly”

•apparently traveling dimensions to have ice cream together was against the rules

•still did it anyway

• he tells his mom about his friend “who left town” who was like his big sister and indirectly how much he admired you

•he would never ever tell a soul he looked up to you even though it was very obvious

•like bro legit mimics half the things you do unconsciously

•You notice it but don’t say anything

• you are so unconsciously over protective

• like you sometimes forget he’s a spiderman too

• he does the most stupidest things to impress you like a younger sibling does

• “Hey y/n look!” *cue Miles hanging upside down from a bridge doing stupid dangerous poses* “Miles! Get the hell down before you kill yourself” “But ’s cool right?” “…that’s besides the point”

•INSIDE JOKES!!!!

•or just those understanding looks you two give each other when you both see something stupid

• randomly pop up in his dimension to surprise him

• you two swing around the city together for the fun of it

•He rants to you constantly about his home life, finally feels safe enough to speak about everything that’s going on and how he feels to someone

•calls you when he has anxiety attacks. even though he would never outright say he’s having them, you know

• call it big sister senses

• always change the subject to something you know calms him and suddenly he’s laughing telling you about something that happened a couple of days ago when he was on duty

•Makes you happy he has an outlet he feels safe talking to because you know he can't do that with anyone else.

•HE STEALS ALL YOUR THINGS

• “yah so then-is that my jacket?” “…noooo?” “Miles I swear I'll kill you that’s like the fifth one this month”

• Always wants to be around you

•like lil bro is always just around trying to hang out with you or go on your missions when he can cause he thinks it’s cool to see you in action

• he even copies your moves for when he fights villains

• You finally met his parents

• at first they were very skeptical of you but after seeing how you two interact they grow very fond of you

•asks you to visit more often and cook for you whenever you do come

•you three talk about Miles whenever you think he’s not listening (he is) and how proud you are

•both you and his parents get on his ass about random stupid things he does

•legit tag team him all the time and there’s nothing he can do

•you visit so much you have a little bag of things in his room for when you come over

• you have your own personal relationship with his parents. They see you as one of their own and you see them like a second pair of parents

• they have their own nickname for you

• you are so close they add you to the family gc

• you and Miles bicker all the time about the stupidest things

• “shut up that’s why I’m the favorite kid” “you’re not even their kid!” “Your just proving my point further”

•you act like a real siblings. Like you would give your kidney for him but if he asks to borrow your charger? Hell nah

• overall he genuinely loves you and really appreciates you and you can say for the same for him

•will always be there for each other just like real siblings because in a way, you two are and always will be

---

HEADCANON; BEING MARRIED TO RHAENYRA AND DAEMON AND BEING A MOTHER TO THEIR CHILDREN

pairings; rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader x daemon targaryen, jacaerys velaryon x stepmother!reader, lucerys velaryon x stepmother!reader, joffrey velaryon x stepmother!reader, baela targaryen x stepmother!reader, rhaena targaryen x stepmother!reader

warnings; mentions of the boy's illegitimacy, sadness, tooth rotting fluff

first part | third part | fourth part | fifth part | masterlist

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

JACAERYS

➼ you aren't particularly close with him in the beginning but there's also no hatred between you two

➼ he knows you from all the stories his mother used to tell him about you and how one day, you would come back to her and be apart of their family

➼ he notices how much happier his mother is once you join her and daemon and he only then realizes how important you are to her so he makes it his mission to befriend you which was very easy

➼ he takes you up on your promise to learn high valyrian together

➼ and you both struggle a lot with it

➼ "kerimvose? right? that has to be it!"

➼ "it's kirimvose, jace! it means thank you, you should know that!"

➼ so much bickering between you two when the maester asks you to name certain words and it becomes a competition between you

➼ but in the end, jace learns his mother language much faster and better with you as his learning partner

➼ he starts trusting you more and comes to you when he has doubts about his birthright again since his mother only denies it and doesn't feel that she can openly talk about it with him

➼ "how can i expect anyone to support my claim when i'm not even a true born son?"

➼ you don't know the truth about it but you try to take jace his insecurities away

➼ "your right to be king of the seven kingdoms one day relies on your mother's birthright. so whoever your father is, it doesn't matter because you are certainly rhaenyra's son and i know that you will make a great king one day."

➼ he thinks about your words and knows that you're right and is so endlessly thankful to you and your support for him. his insecurities still remain but they get easier to live with as long as he has you by his side to reassure him

➼ he trusts you on a deeper and more vulnerable level after that

➼ often clinging to you and asking where you are and making sure you're safe because you are his second mother after all

➼ he used to love to fall asleep in his mother's embrace, always feeling protected and loved with her

➼ and even though he's already grown, he definitely exploits your love and affection towards him to make you do the same

➼ he falls asleep in less than a minute when you play with his hair he just loves it so much

➼ it shows how much he trusts you because of the way people expect him to be composed and perfect all the time

➼ and he wants you to think of him like that too but you know that underneath his composed and collected demeanor, he's still a very young boy who's scared of doing something wrong

➼ because he knows that as soon as someone sees him take one wrong step, he will be called a bastard again and questioned on his legitimacy

➼ but you always do your best to reassure him that it doesn't matter what others say, it's not their business to criticize his every step

➼ when occasions like that occur, you are always the first one defending him, shutting everyone who dares to question him off and afterwards making sure that he's okay, letting him sleep in your arms once more, singing him to sleep and running your fingers through his soft hair

➼ at some point he talks to rhaenyra about how glad he is to have you in his life because you are such a big, supportive person in his life and she's so happy to hear this from him

➼ overall he's just very happy to have you be his biggest supporter and defender

LUCERYS

➼ he's wary of you at first because he has a hard time trusting strangers

➼ mostly ignores you and just doesn't talk to you

➼ you understand why, you're a stranger to him after all and just because you married his mother and stepfather doesn't mean he has to get along with you so you accept it

➼ it still makes you feel bad, to see that he does not wish to even look in your direction at any time

➼ rhaenyra and daemon notice that it makes you sad even though you refuse to tell or show them

➼ they attempt to speak to luke about it but you are insisting that he should make up his own mind and leave him be

➼ over the weeks after your wedding, luke sees how his brother opens up to you and gets closer to you

➼ he sees how gentle you are with him, always ruffling his hair and giving him a hug when he needs it

➼ and little luke wants that too but he's bad at asking for affection

➼ so he just watches your interactions with jace with veiled jealousy and anger at himself for wanting your affection too

➼ at some point you're sitting on one of the cliffs surrounding the castle when you hear a familiar screech behind you

➼ you turn around to see arrax looking at you curiously, the small dragon almost seeming like he was studying you

➼ you had long gotten used to dragons freely roaming around your new home but you had never seen one approach you like this

➼ the dragon comes closer but you're not scared, instead you slowly reach your hand out to touch the dragon and he seems to like the way you proceed to pet him

➼ he likes it so much that he lays his head in your lap and you giggle at how sweet of a creature he is

➼ some time later you hear two voices shouting for arrax and you recognize them to be daemon and luke

➼ you wave and call out to them and they come towards you, both suprised to see arrax with you

➼ daemon grins at how happy arrax is to sleep on your lap and he's proud of how well you interact with the dragons despite not being a targaryen or velaryon. he brushes his hands over the top of your head and gives you a small kiss on your forehead

➼ "it seems that arrax found a new spot to sleep. i don't blame him, i would do the same."

➼ you playfully slap his leg but smile all the same, then direct your attention to luke who's staring at you and at arrax

➼ you stop petting the small dragon and he lazily lifts his head at that seemingly demanding more petting

➼ "you slept long enough now, your rider needs you. come on, up with you arrax."

➼ he's very reluctant to give up his cozy spot but gets up all the same, trotting towards luke as if he was half asleep

➼ you get up as well and brush the dirt off of your dress when you suddenly feel two arms wrap around your torso and a face bury itself in your stomach

➼ "i just wanted to hug you too."

➼ your heart does a weird little thing that you proceed to ignore but you hug him back all the same, one hand softly caressing his back and the other going through his dark locks

➼ after that, luke begins talking to you and spends all the spare time he has with you

➼ he is often found on the beach with you where he shows you the cool tricks arrax has learned

➼ so. many. hugs.

➼ like this boy is clinging to you so much, he just loves the way how warm it feels to be held by you

➼ he starts to be very defensive and protective of you even though he is a tiny boy

➼ but tiny boy will love and protect you forever

➼ rhaenyra loves to watch you interact with him because it's the same way he's with her and it makes her see that he sees you as a mother too

➼ you give him lots of kisses on his forehead and he gives you kisses on your cheeks because he loves to see how you smile when he does

➼ he's the sunshine and you're the sunshine protector from that meme. just very wholesome and sweet after a rocky start

JOFFREY

➼ now joffrey has no idea who you are but when his mother tells him that you are his mother too he doesn't question it for a single second

➼ like he doesn't even care about questioning who you are because he's still so young and when he sees rhaenyra kiss you he's automatically like alright thats new mom!

➼ he comes to you and just sits on your lap like it's the most natural thing and demands cuddles whenever he wants to

➼ because of this he was the first one to treat you like his mother out of the children and it certainly gave you good prep for how you would treat the other kids

➼ joffrey often had nightmares, sometimes feeling too scared to sleep on his own so he would come to you when that was the case

➼ most of the time you slept inbetween rhaenyra and daemon because, according to them, you were their most precious prize to protect

➼ so joffrey often trampled all over daemon to sleep in your arms and you laugh when he shows you the bruises he has the next day

➼ joffrey spends a lot of time with maesters for his studies and whenever there's something he doesn't understand, he waits until the lesson is over and asks you about it instead of the maester

➼ because according to him you are so much smarter than him and know everything so well!

➼ you tell him not to say that to the maester and help him study

➼ he likes it when you read him a story to help him sleep, especially the ones from aegon's conquest

➼ he's a very bright, sweet little boy but he can be very mischievous

➼ hides from you when it's time to go to bed because he doesn't want to sleep

➼ i'm a prince, i can choose when i sleep!"

➼ "and i'm your mother so i choose when my little boy should sleep so he's not tired all day tomorrow!"

➼ when he warns you to not want to sleep at his bed time, you take him to your chambers and have him cuddle with you on his lap and sing him to sleep because that's a guaranteed way of settling him

➼ rhaenyra and daemon often times come in to retire for the night as well at that time and see you holding him as if he had always been yours

➼ it often makes your wife teary eyed to see you love her sons the way you do and she knows that she will never regret her decision of bringing you into their marriage

➼ and after you put joffrey to bed in his own room, your husband and wife show you how eager they are to have even more children, especially yours

BAELA

➼ now here comes your biggest challenge; daemon's kids

➼ it's different to interact with them than with rhaenyra's children because she was the one who had always loved you and wanted to be with you and marry you in any shape or form she could

➼ and daemon... just didn't love you the way rhaenyra did because he didn't know you, that's just how it was

➼ you know that that's why his children are keeping their distance from you and... it stung. you didn't want to admit it, told yourself it was fine if you only had rhaenyra's children to love but that wasn't true

➼ besides that, rhaenyra's children were all boys so you wanted to take care of the girls too, if you could

➼ of course this all changed after you got engaged and married and now daemon would gladly take a million swords to the heart just for you to be safe

➼ baela however did not know how to feel about you

➼ losing her own mother was very hard for her since she was so close with her but over the years, she had learned to live with the pain, just as she learned to live with rhaenyra as a mother to her

➼ but bringing in another person... she only hoped her father was doing the right thing

➼ she didn't speak much with you but she was still friendly to you

➼ she saw how your relationship with daemon developed and how he grew to love you but she still had her doubts

➼ one evening she talked to her father about this

➼ "i know that you only married her for rhaenyra which is a big risk... what if you had despised her? you would have been trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life."

➼ "but i'm not. i do love her, with all my heart, i belong with her just as much as i belong with rhaenyra. she is a very sweet girl and she makes me a better man... and when i have children with her, they will be your siblings by blood. at some point you should start to get along with her."

➼ baela acknowledges the honesty that her father was showing and decides to be at least a bit more open to the idea of welcoming you to her family

➼ just a few days after their conversation, she's walking through the halls of the castle to go outside for some fresh air when she hears sobbing and crying from a nearby room

➼ she follows the sound and it leads her to the cracked door of her father's, rhaenyra's and your chambers

➼ she doesn't see much through the small crack of the door but there's a mirror right in her line of sight and through that she sees you sitting on the bed with a piece of paper in your hands, crying and sobbing all alone

➼ this is your chance, baela thinks and softly knock on the door as she opens it a bit weider to peek her head in

➼ she sees you wipe your cheeks from your tears as you hear someone entering and try to compose yourself as you turn around to face her, a suprised look on your face as you see who came in

➼ "i didn't want to disturb you but i also didn't want you to be alone when you're clearly not feeling well.. may i ask what happened?"

➼ "oh no, don't worry yourself baela, i'm fine, i just... wasn't feeling well but i'm all better, don't worry about it."

➼ baela clearly sees that you're lying and now fully enters the room, closing the door behind her

➼ "i know i have not been the best at welcoming you or being kind to you but... i want to now. please tell me what has happened and let me comfort you because you are clearly not well."

➼ you let her words sink in and sigh deeply after a few seconds, casting your head downwards and looking at the letter in your hands

➼ "this... this letter just came... it's from my father. he found out that i married daemon and rhaenyra and he's anything but not happy about it. he calls me a whore and tells me that i'm the laughing stock of westeros and that i will never be respected or welcomed back to my family. but i don't care about any of that... he called rhaenyra a whore too! and daemon a fool for marrying someone as stupid as me, how dare he insult them!"

➼ you break out in tears once more in anger and sadness and baela is quick to come to you and hug you closely, all her doubts about you flying out of the window

➼ because she sees that you're not affected by your own father calling you names and instead are angry at your father insulting your partners and she realizes then that you love her father very deeply

➼ you cry in her arms and think of how stupid you must seem to her but she only shushes you, hugging you closely and telling you that your father is an imbecile and a prick

➼ you laugh slightly and agree with her and think it's curious that she was so quick to comfort you

➼ you ask her not to tell her father and rhaenyra about this because they would have your father's head rolling in mere seconds just for making you cry

➼ not that you care wether he's dead or not but it would only get them into trouble and you obviously don't want that

➼ from that day on you and baela become good friends

➼ you're often seen taking walks along the castle and the beach and talk about the newest gossip of westeros together

➼ you often play with each other's hair, giving each other silly hairstyles and telling each other secrets

➼ with her, it feels like you are carefree and she reminds you of your relationship with one of your sisters when you were younger

➼ after it is announced that she is betrothed to jace, you're the one she comes to to ask for advice for when she would inevitably be married to him

➼ because she surely can not talk about this with her father and rhaenyra is the boy's mother so that would be awkward

➼ you are jace's mother too in a way but you would not be in a conflict about a conversation like this like rhaenyra would be

➼ "i'm not scared of the wedding night but... what is it like? does it hurt? what if he's rough with me?"

➼ "jace is a respectful and good man, he will be as gentle with you as any man ever could be and i will talk about it with him too before the wedding, don't you worry about it. if he does it right and takes care of you, which i know he will, it will feel good for you too."

➼ she's very thankful to have someone like you in her life, she only ever had her sister as a friend but rhaena was a little too innocent to talk about these things with

➼ she's not big on skinship but she demands one of your famous, world healing hugs every now and then and it reminds her that she has a friend, a sister and a mother in you

➼ baela always admires how much you take care of all the children and it makes her happy to have you in the family

RHAENA

➼ rhaena is totally a daddy's girl so when she sees daemon loving and trusting you, she does the same

➼ she's a quiet girl, often occupied with reading her books on dragons and her family's history

➼ she doesn't seek vou out much because she sees how occupied you are with the other children

➼ but when she sees you reading a book by yourself, she joins you and asks if you can read to her, which you are only happy to

➼ rhaena is often hard to read because of her quietness and she's still young so she's often unsure about her place in this very big family

➼ she feels overlooked often times because she is, in a way, a second daughter, otherwise she would not be marrying luke

➼ she doesn't mind it though, he's a sweet boy and is always kind to her

➼ but the attention that she sometimes doesn't feel she gets from her father or rhaenyra, she gets from you

➼ you often ask her how she's feeling and if she has anything on her mind and she opens up to you about it and you already had your suspicions about her feeling neglected, which she confirms to you

➼ you make sure to seek her out as much as you can when the other children aren't demanding your attention

➼ and when you simply sit next to her, read with her and sometimes study with her, you already make her endlessly happy

➼ daemon often catches you reading with her and sees the loving gaze in your eyes as you look at his daughter, his heart bursting with pride at how sweetly you treat them

➼ overall, rhaena likes your calm presence is happy to have someone who will always be there for her and understand her

AEGON & VISERYS

➼ since these two are the only babies at the moment, you spend a lot of your time with them

➼ you send the nurses away when you're there because you don't want the children to grow up thinking that their own parents never wanted to take care of them

➼ you know that that's not really common and that most noble women never learn to be mothers but considering that rhaenyra is often busy, you take it upon yourself to give the young little princes the kind of attention that only a mother could give

➼ as mentioned before, aegon is very taken with you

➼ he often cries when you go away, even if it's just to take a toy from the chest to give to him

➼ he's just the cutest little thing, always babbling about and giving all his toys to his brother who happily plays with them

➼ he doesn't care for the toys anyway when you're there, he just wants you to put him in his lap and give him tickles that make him laugh so sweetly

➼ he often plays with your necklace when you hold him up and always inspects it closely when it's one that he hasn't seen you wear yet

➼ he often tries to chew on them as well but you always make this cute face where you look like you'll cry when he brings it to his mouth and he immediately drops it, attempting to pat your cheeks so you wouldn't cry

➼ you love aegon very much but of course, you take care of visery too

➼ he always wants to show you his toys and makes you play whatever imaginary game he's thinking of

➼ he also loves to play with your hair and often proceeds to put it in his mouth because it's so pretty

➼ and then he coughs it out because it's hair!

➼ when they find the time, rhaenyra and daemon come to the nursery and sit and watch you play with the babies and it makes their heart ache

➼ to see you so lively and happy to play with the babies that weren't your own is just very special to them

➼ they admire you for how hard you work as a mother of seven children and are so happy to have brought you into their lives because you make them and the kids so endlessly happy

➼ and they can't wait to see you pregnant and have your own children too so they can spoil them rotten and love them just as much as they love you

---

— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮

the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.

the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)

the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake. 

the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!

the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs

masterlist

SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice. 

It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick. 

Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented. 

Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you. 

Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire. 

He hates it. He hates you. 

He thinks. 

It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth. 

But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him. 

It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you. 

Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone. 

Like now, you linger. 

It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them. 

Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over. 

Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin. 

“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes. 

Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger. 

“We going or what?” he finally says. 

You perk up. 

“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.

Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly. 

“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents. 

You roll your lips and shift on your feet. 

“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful. 

Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours. 

“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.” 

Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible. 

You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes. 

“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up." 

You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off. 

“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh. 

“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles. 

“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”

Lo'ak sneers. 

“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.

“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”

Lo'ak's spine stiffens.

“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes hard. 

There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you. 

“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam. 

He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand. 

“Hi,” he says flatly. 

“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet. 

His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare. 

“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face. 

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat. 

A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him. 

His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows. 

“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”

You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure. 

“My birthday's coming up,” you start. 

“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs. 

It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest. 

“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you. 

“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone. 

You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens. 

“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”

Friend. 

He scowls at the term.

“We're not friends,” he bites back. 

If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face. 

“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly. 

“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp. 

He leaves you in the clearing on your own.

You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice. 

“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head. 

His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply. 

“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”

“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly. 

“But, Dad!”

“Lo'ak.”

Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off. 

“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle. 

The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target. 

Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot. 

You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile. 

“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.” 

Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target. 

His heart sinks. 

“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.

He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two. 

He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn. 

“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs. 

“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest. 

You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path. 

He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora. 

“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel. 

His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks. 

“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!” 

His chest rises and falls with a scoff. 

“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood. 

Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage. 

“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly. 

“You are my friend,” you protest quietly. 

Lo’ak rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you. 

“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?” 

Friends. 

That stupid fucking word again.

Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path. 

Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.

“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle. 

As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother. 

“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.” 

“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised. 

Lo’ak’s face scrunches.

“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”

“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.” 

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns. 

“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”

A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates. 

“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.” 

Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat. 

“No thanks,” he says flatly.

You try to coax him. 

“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up. 

You offer up the plate again. 

“Lo’ak–“ 

“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed. 

He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground. 

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds. 

“Shit, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.” 

“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering. 

“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.” 

Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–

“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.” 

“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters. 

“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.” 

“Dad!” 

“Go, Lo’ak.” 

Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose. 

“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air. 

He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology. 

When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye. 

He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction. 

“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief. 

You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. 

A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest. 

Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about. 

When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile. 

“I wanted to–”

“I came to–”

Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy. 

“You first,” you offer. 

Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing. 

“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm. 

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.” 

You shake your head quickly. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him. 

He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you. 

You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile. 

You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn. 

Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation. 

He shrugs. 

“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.” 

The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face. 

“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?” 

No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly. 

It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night. 

“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly. 

“I dunno, green?” he offers. 

“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly. 

Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.” 

He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal. 

“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages. 

Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up. 

“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.

You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet. 

“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.” 

Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion. 

“What?” he asks. 

You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him. 

“Nothing.” 

Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session. 

And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you. 

He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off. 

And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade. 

Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended. 

“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips. 

Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars. 

“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.” 

“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night. 

And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has. 

But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries. 

The words are leaving him before he can stop them. 

“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.” 

The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.

“I’m not perfect,” you assure him. 

“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.” 

You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile. 

“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.” 

Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.

You continue. 

“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.” 

Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments. 

“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.” 

“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.” 

“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

You nod, smiling at him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”

Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.

Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night. 

After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring. 

“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village. 

“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed. 

Kiri shrugs. 

“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.” 

You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully. 

“Yeah?” you wonder

So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower. 

It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist. 

Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat. 

He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.

There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again. 

But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw. 

“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands. 

You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff. 

“Hey,” he replies hesitantly. 

“Where you going?” you ask curiously.

His throat bobs as he gestures behind him. 

“Hunting,” is all he says.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.

He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control. 

Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard. 

“No,” he says.

And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly. 

“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?” 

“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.” 

“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–” 

“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too. 

You try again anyways. 

“It’ll be good practice and–”

“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.” 

Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch. 

“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”

The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face. 

Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later. 

You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.

Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore. 

You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully. 

“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates. 

“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone. 

“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles. 

“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.” 

You frown. 

Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud. 

“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?” 

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent. 

“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs. 

Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.

His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further. 

“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him. 

He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut. 

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”

“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level. 

“But you’re–”

“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.

Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle. 

You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree. 

You follow after him. 

“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects. 

He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.” 

You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off. 

He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels. 

“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”

“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!” 

You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you. 

“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry. 

“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!” 

You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles. 

“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper. 

“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!” 

The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you. 

“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat. 

You dropped your journal. 

Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands. 

It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet. 

He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been. 

“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal. 

It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open. 

He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch. 

“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued. 

“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers. 

“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?” 

Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.

“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides. 

A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers. 

“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. 

Spider winces behind him. 

“You serious?” 

Lo’ak sighs. 

“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…” 

“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.” 

Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him. 

“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.” 

“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.” 

Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.

“Did you at least apologize?” 

Lo’ak squirms.

“Dude!” 

“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation. 

“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“ 

“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs. 

“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.” 

“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps. 

“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?” 

He blinks at the human. 

“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.” 

“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.

“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”

“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply. 

“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.” 

Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook. 

“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly. 

Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off. 

It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.

At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths. 

It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind. 

I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis. 

As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him. 

He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you. 

It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late. 

After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.

As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver. 

A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling. 

Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar. 

“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.

It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face. 

When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them. 

“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves. 

A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it. 

“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head. 

A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him. 

As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze. 

“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.” 

Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read. 

“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand. 

“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.” 

His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him. 

His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it. 

He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping. 

It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you. 

You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—

Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain. 

It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished. 

Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind. 

It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap. 

It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.

As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh. 

Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath. 

Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know. 

he is like the sun,

shines so bright,

but burns the closer you get. 

Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting. 

he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him. 

His chest heaves as the words blur. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward. 

He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye. 

Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time. 

likes green and blue. 

likes yovo fruits. 

The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest. 

When he turns the page, his breath hitches. 

In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes. 

Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another. 

The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star. 

He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like. 

Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease. 

His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones. 

Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river. 

A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide. 

Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you. 

You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself. 

He stands from the hammock and runs. 

You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.

Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.

As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins. 

You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape. 

“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.” 

You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him. 

You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. 

Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm. 

“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay. 

“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.” 

The tears well on their own. 

We’re not friends. We never were and we never will. 

The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches. 

“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”

“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.” 

He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below. 

“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.” 

Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky. 

“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.” 

“I do, _________, I do!” he argues. 

He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you. 

You shake your head again.

“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.” 

“Stop–”

“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”

“No, _________. Wait!” 

You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness. 

Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better. 

She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence. 

“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat. 

Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task. 

It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest. 

“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his. 

Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze. 

“I hurt someone,” he says quietly. 

Neytiri stiffens.

“What?” 

“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. 

Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression. 

“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?” 

You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly. 

“I really messed things up, Mom,” Lo’ak says quietly. “I don’t…” 

Neytiri’s hand comes to Lo’ak chest. 

“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.” 

Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.

His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines. 

“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines. 

“Why should I help you with your mess?” 

You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment. 

He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd. 

Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show. 

Be brave. 

He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space. 

You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips. 

“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him. 

You remain jaded.

“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background. “________,” Lo’ak tries again. 

You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side. 

“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder. 

The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday. 

She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you. 

He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact. 

He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet. 

He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely. 

It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right. 

Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt. 

They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart. 

“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.” 

Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve. 

Be brave. Sometimes that is enough. 

Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids. 

“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.” 

The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push. 

“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees. 

“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage. 

“I’ll only be a second!” 

“Wait, Kiri!” 

Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path. 

“Good luck, egghead!”

Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself. 

You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams. 

“Oh, you were–”

You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls. 

“Lo’ak…” 

“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes. 

You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet. 

“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him. 

He scratches the back of his head. 

“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer. 

“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads. 

You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly. 

You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat. 

The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.

His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream. 

“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.” 

“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.” 

He swallows.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.” 

You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words. 

“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.” 

When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him. 

He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes. 

“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.” 

You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek. 

“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.” 

You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you. 

“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?” 

He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze. 

“Did you…” 

“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”

“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?” 

“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening. 

“Lo’ak, don’t–”

“How long?” he presses desperately. 

Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push. 

“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.” 

Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines. 

“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”

You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.

“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.” 

He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out. 

“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief. 

“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.” 

He lets out a shaky breath. 

“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.” 

Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head. 

“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him. 

“Please.” 

His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours. 

“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.” 

Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope. 

“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers. 

You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss. 

He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you. 

To being loved by you. 

BONUS

“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…” 

Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.” 

Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by. 

His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift. 

“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.” 

You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you. 

A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself. 

“Lo’ak, wow…” 

“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.” 

an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx

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neng © 2023

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