#(trio if you count Tuk)

[dirtytransmasc]

concept, cause the dynamics at play would be super interesting:

when Tuk and Neytiri are sucked into the hold of the Seadragon, what if Spider, unwilling to watch another one of this baby siblings, nor his siblings mother (despite everything cause he's a good kid), die without doing anything, jumps in after them?

they're now stuck in a flooding ship, spider knows his way around to a decent extent, they're all tired, they're all scared, they're all hurting. they have to depend on each other for survival.

Neytiri has to not only trust Spider, but has to follow his lead, has to trust him to guide her around a demon ship, has to untrust not only her own life, but the life of her youngest child to this boy.

Maybe they're separated, they have to find one another (my personal favorite scenario is that Tuk and Spider are together and he has to try and find her/guide Neytiri to him)

Spider taking Neytiri and Tuk's arms so they aren't separated by stray currents and raging waters (a parallel to "Sully's stick together"). Spider talking them through the breath holds he learned as a kid in case his mask malfunctioned before bringing them through the depths of the submerged ship (parallel to Jake and Lo'ak)

anyway. I just can't stop thinking about it. think about it.

Neytiri is faced with the fact that Spider jumped in after her and Tuk. he came for them, he put himself in danger to save them, to save her daughter. even after what she did to him. even after she held a knife to him, after she cut him, after she intended to kill him even after Kiri was released. he still jumped to her aid, even if he could have stayed with Kiri above deck where he was safe, he could have just aided Tuk and left her behind, but he didn't.

and there's so many ways to play with it and the aftermath. like.

Spider dragging both Tuk and Neytiri up the surface, trying his best to keep the trio afloat (namely Neytiri who was much less adjusted to the water and is exhausted by the night they've had) as they hope and pray to be reunited with the rest of their family.

maybe the stress gets to them and Spider just starts apologizing. I should have fought them harder. I shouldn't have let Lo'ak and Neteyam try and leave with me, I would have been fine. I should have seen it coming, should have taken it myself. it should have been me. my baby brother shouldn't be dead.

maybe he becomes partly delirious as he too gives into exhaustion, the big brother in him being the only part of him left coherent, so he takes Tuk close, whispering prrnen tsmuke [baby sister] over and over into her braids, assuring himself that she's safe and unharmed. he keeps praying to the Great Mother for his siblings to return to him unharmed. maybe he keeps asking where they are, if they're safe as his awareness fades and his memory weakens. all of his siblings. asking if Neteyam is ok, only to remember he's gone the second the words leave his tongue.

Jake and Lo'ak finding them when they come up with Payakan, both worse for wear, exhausted, clinging to one another, the only thing keeping their heads above water being spiders life vest, Tuk cradled between them. what a sight.

Neytiri watching as Spider looks over each of his siblings, taking them close, holding onto them as if they will be ripped away from him. the realization that he would die before he let that happen again hitting her like a ton of bricks the second she sees the look in his eyes.

a peace being made between the two in the wake of this event. spider silently claiming the role of big brother (he always was, but he had to pretend he wasn't. with Neteyam gone, he can't pretend he's not anymore), Neytiri silently agreeing.

idk man. it would be interesting.

[talesof-old]

family | j.s. & n.s.

pairing: jake sully x reader x neytiri sully

warning(s): 18+, smut, breeding kink?, sex with the intention to have a baby, wlw, piv, thigh riding, threesome, fmf relationship. this is completely unedited lmao

word count: 3.02k

in which you decide you’re ready to have kids

masterlist

in this, the Olo’eyktan and their mate can have another additional mate, a third partner

usually this is someone who is not a warrior (if the other two are), but if one of the original two is not a warrior, the additional partner is usually a warrior

the trio becomes inseparable, a true unit

+++

You hummed as you wove, shoulders gently rocking from side to side as you tightened the grasses to ensure nothing could spill out of the basket you were making. Neytiri was across from you, cutting up fruits and vegetables to add to dinner tonight. Insects buzzed around you and for the first time in years, everything felt truly peaceful.

You were barely old enough to be a warrior when the Sky People destroyed much of your home. Sure, you’d bonded with your ikran, and learned how to hunt and fight, but it wasn’t your calling. You were a healer, a crafter, a touch too soft for full blown war. Despite that, you’d fought, earned your scars and a place among your people.

Neytiri’s eyes wandered over your figure, flickering to your fingers intentional movements, weaving everything together at a quickness she could not imitate. The speed at which you could do such things never failed to amaze her. She was far more suited to hunting, or, at the very least, much preferred it.

Jake was off with the boys today, teaching them how to track game through the forest. Neytiri had elected to stay behind with you and the girls, as Tuk had decided she would be clinging to her mothers instead of letting them do anything. Now, Tuk was playing with a wooden toy Jake had carved for her, making loud noises as she pretended the bird was flying through the air. Neytiri smiled fondly. You’d brought a sense of stability that was hard to find to the family.

A warmth filled her that had her shifting, her tail twitching behind her. No. There would be time to show you how she felt later. There were things that needed tending to now. Still, she couldn’t help the way her eyes shifted to you every so often, your face glowing as you interacted with Tuk and Kiri, coaxing the former to help you smear your already finished baskets in wax.

All Jake could think about was getting home. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and being Olo’eyktan was more taxing on his body than he had anticipated. He longed for one of his mates’ hands on his back, working out the stiffness that seemed to plague him on hard days. Lo’ak and Neteyam were mocking each other in front of him, dancing out of each other’s reach when the other had had enough and decided to physically retaliate.

As everyone mounted their ikrans, all he could hear was your voice in his ear.

Let them be boys, Ma Jake. Let them be children.

When he’d first become Olo’eyktan and had heard of the custom of a third mate, he honestly thought there was no way for him to love someone as much as Neytiri. Someone so different from Neytiri. But somehow, you’d managed to capture both of their hearts.

Jake scanned the sky around them, instinctually checking for any threats as the three of them ascended to their home in the Hallelujah Mountains. Lo’ak whooped, spinning in the air in tricks that had Jake’s heart racing. His sons were strong, and sure in their skills, but that never stopped him from worrying, it seemed. Didn’t stop him from trying to protect them. Tuk, Kiri, and Mo’at were waiting for the boys to return when they landed, disconnecting their kurus and ensuring the comfort of their ikran companions.

Jake frowned at the lack of his mates. Mo’at chuckled, waving her grandsons over. She’d seen the way Neytiri had eyed you today, and had nearly laughed at the way she’d pleaded for her to watch the grandchildren for the night.

“They told me you would know where to find them.”

Jake blinked, blood rushing downward at the words. Mo’at smirked and ushered her children towards the healers tent despite their groans of reluctance. The older three had a knowing look of disgust on their faces, though Tuk seemed to be oblivious to the implication of her grandmother’s words.

He glanced at the swaynivi his family normally stayed in, the emptiness spurring him in motion. He reached for Bob, connecting their kurus and guiding him back into the air. Wind whipped at his cheeks as he flew higher, dipping in and out of fog and waterfalls to get to the place the three of you had decided would be your spot. Heat knotted in his gut and he adjusted his loincloth. He’d long since given up trying to explain the effect the two of you had on him.

You sighed as Neytiri’s lips trailed down your torso, open-mouthed and hungry as she sucked and nipped along your skin. The rocks beneath you bit into your shoulders, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Everything around you was bursting with color, glowing as the sun disappeared and the world darkened. It never failed to amaze you. The awe you felt was nothing short of religious when it came to Pandora.

The sound of beating wings drew you from Neytiri’s worship and you glanced towards the source, a grin spreading across your face. Jake all but jumped from Bob, his face harsh in the dim lighting. You reached for him, pushing aside the way he made you feel when he simply towered over you.

Your hand slid up his calf, gentle and teasing. He inhaled sharply and before you could blink he was on his knees beside you, mouth pressed hard against yours. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his locs and tugging, hard. He moaned into your mouth and you smirked, feeling Neytiri pull away from your thighs to press up against Jake.

He shuddered against you as her palm slid from his stomach to his loincloth. You slipped your tongue between his lips as his mouth parted, spurred on by the languid strokes of Neytiri. The three of you barely had a chance away from the kids these days, plus the trips to other clans for trade and maintaining peace. You tilted your head back and let out a soft sound as Jake removed his lips from yours and latched onto your neck, deepening the marks your other mate had already left.

His hand slipped between your legs, grazing your swollen lower lips in a way that had you gasping. His smile against your skin left you panting. The calluses on his fingertips had you reaching for his bicep, gripping onto him like your life depended on it.

He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb as he inched his finger into your cunt, chuckling at the way you clenched around him. You always felt so good, like the two of you were made for him.

His dick throbbed in Neytiri’s hand, her chin tucked into his shoulder as she peered down at you. Precious you, their little mate. She ran her free hand down his kuru and he shivered, before she reached over to gently grab yours. Your tail flicked in surprise upon contact but other than that, you gave no indication of discomfort. Jake didn’t stop until he was knuckle deep inside you, eyes trained on Neytiri’s hands as she slid her fingers down the length of your kuru and she neared the end. She brought it up to Jake’s kuru, grinning as they connected and you let out a moan. Jake hissed through clenched teeth as you squeezed tight around his finger.

You wiggled your hips, bucking as best you could against Jake’s hand in hopes of friction. Jake tutted, using his free hand to hold you down. You whined at the feeling, letting him pull out of you only to add another finger.

You gasped at the intrusion, your inner muscles squeezing around Jake as if you’d never had sex. It had been too long, you determined. Too long since he’d been inside of you. You moaned at a particularly rough swipe of your clit. Desire shot through you, clearly from Jake. You couldn’t help but giggle. Neytiri smiled from her place behind Jake, eyes still trained on where your mate was fingering you.

Tension curled in your gut and you moved your hand, gripping Jake’s wrist and whining. He paused, brow raised as you shook your head.

“I want you to fuck me.” He smirked, glancing at Neytiri who shared his expression. You normally avoided having Jake fuck you, not because you didn’t like it, but because you hadn’t felt like it was the right time for you to be pregnant. Of course, there was always the chance that you wouldn’t, but the risk didn’t outweigh the good.

You felt ready now. It was how you and Neytiri had ended up here in the first place, a whispered, I think I’m ready to add to our family, and she was all over you. Jake slowed as a longing washed over him. Neytiri stroked his arms, kissing his shoulder blade before drawing away. Tension bled away into confusion.

“What-“ You shifted backwards, a displeased sigh escaping you as his fingers left your cunt. He watched as you got into an all too familiar position, though it was normally Neytiri in that spot. The latter settled beneath you, back against the ground, until her cunt made contact with your thigh, a pleased hiss leaving her lips. You cupped her face, pressing your mouth to hers as Jake got situated behind you.

He tugged at his loincloth, letting it fall away. He jerked himself, running his finger over the slit to make sure he was ready. He looked up as Neytiri let out a loud moan, rocking herself against your leg. You were on your hands and knees, ass up and tail flicking. Jake palmed your smooth skin, tracing the glowing freckles along your body before lining himself up with your cunt. “You ready, baby?”

“When you are.” Was your response, your voice breathy with anticipation. You stiffened as he made contact with you, pushing his big head in slowly to allow you to adjust. You whimpered at the pressure, too much and not enough all at once.

Jake shushed you, gripping your hips to stop you from sinking deeper onto his dick. Neytiri was riding your thigh, your skin slick as her lips and clit dragged across it. You felt her clenching against you.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

Jake eased into you, your tail flicking sporadically as he filled you. You reached behind you, taking Jake’s arm and wrapping it around your waist to help keep you up. Only once his grip tightened around you did you shift your weight to one arm, using the other to rub Neytiri’s clit. Her body jerked once you made the additional contact. Her lips parted and you couldn’t tear your eyes away, the woman beneath you the very embodiment of beauty.

“So pretty,” you whispered.

She whimpered, your name falling from her lips. “Harder,” she rasped.

Jake nuzzled his face into your neck, limbs heavy as your desperation began to sink in. He couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin, your touch, your scent, everything. It was dizzying in the best way. All-consuming.

“Mhmm,” Jake huffed under his breath, tendons tight in his neck. “So tight.”

Neytiri mewled, clutching at your body as she brought herself closer and closer to the edge. Jake shook his head, willing himself to focus. Neytiri’s soft pleas and your gentle reassurances filled his ears. You rocked your hips backwards, bottoming out. He hissed as your ass came in contact with his sensitive balls. Arousal shot up his spine and you whined, a similar feeling spreading through you.

“Gotta take care of my baby, don’t I?”

Jake pulled out halfway before giving an experimental thrust, shuddering at the pleasure that coiled in his gut. You didn’t always connect your kurus when you were having sex. In fact, normally you’d have him and Neytiri connect theirs and simply basked in their attention. Feeling your emotions made this feel far more intimate than he was used to.

He really didn’t mind.

You continued to rub at Neytiri’s clit, urging her closer and closer to the edge with each stroke. She was content to play from the side today, she’d murmured against your skin earlier. The objective today was to fill you to the brim, all with the hope that Eywa would bless you with a child. Though in your rush to feel one another, you might’ve forgotten to mention that to a very important member of the process.

You gasped when Jake decided to finally start thrusting in and out of you, hips pressing up against your ass. A moan escaped you as his balls dragged against your skin, shivering at the velvety feeling. You clenched involuntarily around him, causing Jake to grunt.

“Good girl, taking what I give you.”

He kept a slow and steady pace, letting you adjust to his size. Neytiri keened beneath you, her orgasm steadily rising as her hips began to frantically rock along your thigh. Her mouth parted and you kept circling her clit. She clenched around nothing, cum dripping out of her as she climaxed. It ran down your leg and she trembled as you continued your motions to help her ride it out.

Your eyes were half lidded as you watched her, a pleasant warmth consuming you with Jake inside of you. Neytiri pushed your hand away, chest heaving. You smiled softly and she sent you a weak one in return, ready to finally focus on the act of pleasure between you and Jake. You straightened yourself until your back was pressed firmly against Jake’s chest. He buried his face in your neck once more, running his fangs along your skin. You sighed, arching your back to meet his thrusts. The angle changed, hitting something deep inside you that made you choke on a moan, your hands flying to find purchase on the one person that could ground you at this moment.

Jake.

You reached to grasp at his arms, his muscles taunt underneath your fingers.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” His chest rumbled with his words and you shuddered, urging him to move faster. He picked up the pace, his thrusts remaining deep. Neytiri shuffled to her knees in front of you, rubbing soothing circles into your thighs.

“Rub their clit.” Jake’s voice had that edge to it, dominant and authoritative. You whined as Neytiri’s fingertip grazed your swollen clit, body jerking into Jake’s. He chuckled into your skin, nipping at your shoulder.

“Doing so good, baby, taking me so well.” Your eyes squeezed shut as Neytiri found her rhythm, one that had your thighs trembling and heart racing. Jake was tense behind you, hips smacking against your backside with every thrust. Tension pooled in your lower abdomen, burning hot fire spreading through your body. Jake whined at the feeling, a sound that sent shock waves through your system. You clenched hard around him, barely registering the whimper the action drew. You tightened your grip on his arms.

“Please, please,” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. You just needed him.

“Want you to-” your voice descends into a moan as he thrusts hard into you.

“Want you to finish in me.” You could barely hear yourself, blood rushing through your veins and thundering in your ears. Jake tightened his arm around your waist, his pace quickening to a speed you didn’t anticipate. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth fell open, head falling limp against his shoulder. Neytiri kept up well. Her fingers send shock waves through you, your body overstimulated in the best way. Jake was throbbing inside of you as you pulsed around him, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so close.

“Want a baby, Jake-“ Your climax cut off anything else you might’ve said, stars bursting behind your closed eyes. Jake groaned as you clamped down on him, his balls impossibly tight. Before he knew it, he was coming inside of you.

You rocked your hips through your orgasm, body weak and feverish. Neytiri cooed at you, brushing stray hair from your face. Jake shifted the two of you, still attached, until you were both on your sides. You whimpered as he pulled out of you, cum dripping from your cunt. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“You really want to have a baby?” You hummed tiredly, turning to lay on your back so you could look up at him. There was a brief pause as you thought it over once again. “Yeah.”

You’d been there for every single one of Neytiri’s births, a healer training under Mo’at for Neteyam’s, a potential mate for Lo’ak’s, and then a mate when Tuk was born. At first, the idea of birth had both excited and scared you. The idea that you could create whole beings inside of you was a marvel, but the pain sent terror through you. You’d be in good hands. It didn’t scare you like before.

Jake ran his hands up and down your sides, dick twitching at the imagine of you swollen and pregnant. Neytiri cleaned off her fingers, tracing soft lines along your thighs. You twitch with sensitivity. She grinned, pressing a kiss to your navel.

The pair doted on you, Neytiri kissing along your hips as aftershocks wash over you every few minutes. You traced lines along Jake’s thighs, smiling as he whined whenever you went higher and higher. Neytiri situated herself on your free side, her hands coming up to play with your nipples.

You arched into her, eyes fluttering shut in contentment.

Jake leaned over, kissing you hard on the lips. You sighed into his mouth, hands drawing him closer. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your body to press against his.

The three of you spent hours wringing pleasure from each other, returning to your home in the late hours of the night. The kids were with Mo’at, leaving you to rest in each other’s arms. By morning, it would be back to the routine, weaving and hunting and watching after children. You smiled into Neytiri’s chest, pressing a chaste kiss to her warm skin.

The pair doted on you, Neytiri kissing along your hips as aftershocks wash over you every few minutes. You traced lines along Jake’s thighs, smiling as he whined whenever you went higher and higher. Neytiri situated herself on your free side, her hands coming up to play with your nipples.

You arched into her, eyes fluttering shut in contentment.

Jake leaned over, kissing you hard on the lips. You sighed into his mouth, hands drawing him closer. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your body to press against his.

The three of you spent hours wringing pleasure from each other, returning to your home in the late hours of the night. The kids were with Mo’at, leaving you to rest in each other’s arms. By morning, it would be back to the routine, weaving and hunting and watching after children. You smiled into Neytiri’s chest, pressing a chaste kiss to her warm skin.

[sunofpandora]

Authors note:

AYEEEE CHAPTER TWO

Wow! I was not expecting all the kind comments and the taglist requests from chapter 1. I’m genuinely in shock, still. The comments and reposts got me teary eyed. 

                                                                   V I R A G O            

Word count: 6k       

Chapter 2

The son sun made of stone  

words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenix under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

General Warnings: na’vi reader/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school./ reader fell first but Neteyam fell way harder/ sun x moon relationship 

Chapter 2 warnings: jealous neteyam/ mentions or anxiousness/ mentions of war and death/flirting/ mentions of dead animals/ mentions of grief and injuries/

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, she is 18 and he is 19.

Lo’ak is 18 and Kiri is also 19. Tuk is 7-8 and spider is 19.

Extra characters: 

Ka’lik (y/ns father. A deceased warrior of the Omaticaya clan)

Zensira (y/n’s mother. deceased best singer and head songstress of the Omaticaya clan)

Makeyo (a warrior of the omaticaya clan. The same age as neteyam and went through iknimiya the same day as well. A filthy simp for y/n)

Kailo (Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male ya’ll. sorry.)

Popiti (tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

Chapter two synopsis:

Neteyam comes to return y/n’s bracelet and has some internal conflict about his feelings towards her. Makeyo attempts to make a move on y/n and Neteyam experiences a different type of burning in his heart.

Neteyams Pov (trying something new by writing from neteyams pov as a little experiment. Lemme know how yall like it.)

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Neteyam”

For a moment the sound of my name leaving her lips in a breath is almost enough to forget myself and drop to my knees. 

The tuft of my tail thwacks the back of my head gently and i force my heartbeat to endure boundaries.

 I clear my throat, finding the words.

My eyes fan over her figure.

The moonlight contours the crevices of her curves. Her eyes, an amorous gold, spark themselves luminous. Almost Neon in the darkness of night. 

There's a bandage around her torso, and one around her left bicep. Her skin smells of grandmother's salves and wooden bowls.

It’s funny how fast the memories flood back. 

There was a time before she was made of fire.

Well, actually, I don't think that’s a fair statement.

There was always a spark. Always that small flicker refusing to perish even in strong winds.

I have memories of playing in the stream with my siblings and Y/n, and occasionally spider.  

She’d chase me. Her feet assaulted the shin deep water with the harsh sloshing of her feet. She tackled me and pulled on my tail. The sunburst air is sweet like nectar against our glistening skin and shrieks of laughter and springtime memories. 

Her laughter challenges the brightness of the sugared sun rays that danced through the canopy, it shakes the stars with its loud singing.

The scattered droplets of water seize on her skin as she chases lo’ak, carrying a smaller spider on her back.

Now she stands before me. Taller, stronger, a warrior in all its forms. 

I clear my throat once again, my eyes flickering over her body.

“How are you? Grandmother was able to treat you?”

She nods, leaning lightly against the wooden entrance frame of the marui.

“The wounds could have been worse. Mo’at was able to clean up the wounds just fine. Tsahik suggested i rest here for the night..’

She trials off, clicking her tongue as she gently taps her finger against the bandage.

The dwindling echoes of our breaths gently keep the silence afloat.

My eyes flicker up when her voice catches my ears.

“You? Any injuries?”

I shrug. “A few scratches. Nothing Serious. Lo’ak has a small bruise on his head but he’ll be fine. Mother treated us earlier.”

Something somber in her irises flickers. It’s small, but its not quiet. I open my mouth to speak but like most other things between us, she beats me to it.

“Why did you fly down there today? You could have been killed.”

There’s a hiss at the endnotes of her voice. And I don't blame her for being pissed. Not for a second.

I frown, I can feel my tail thump lightly against the ground.

“Lo’ak flew his way down there first. I wet after him.”

My confession trails a veil of blankness behind it that lingers in the air. She shakes her head, staring down.

“It’s not a thing of fault. I should have been more responsible. Im the older brother, after all-”

“Bullshit.”

The suddenness of her words make me pause. It wasn’t unexpected, but it seems a bit more vague than usual. Even for her.

“Y/n i-”

“No. No, Neteyam this has to come to an end. You can’t keep taking the fall for him. How many times will you let yourself fall off a cliff before you learn not to justify the one who pushed you off the ledge?”

I’m quiet for a moment. I feel another frown etch itself onto my lips.

“I must hold myself accountable as well. I am the future leader of this clan. If i cannot even keep my siblings out of trouble, how will I protect my people?” 

I’m sure loak had told her of the scolding we received from my father.

She takes a step closer, the fire in her gaze challenges all it sees. My heartbeat speeds up its sympathy.

“Then who protects you, Neteyam?”

I’m still for a moment. My throat hitches quietly and my words come up short.

She takes a breath and shifts herself back a bit, rubbing two fingers to her temple.

Her eyes creased with exhaust. I can tell the day has drained her.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”

“You never have to apologize to me.”

I can tell it surprises her a bit. How fast my words chased after her own.

My hesitation creeps its way through the blanket of gray that treads along the silence.

I clear my throat once again, averting my gaze.

“I’m glad you returned safely. I was worried sick.”

She chuckles and gently flips the small spiral in her hand.

“Had my lucky charm on my bow today. I guess i have you to thank.”

I cannot help but feel an ache every time I see that damned spiral. Iv’e tormented myself with an object so small it's pathetic. Really. A substitution for the words i couldn't speak.

I force a smile, a gentle chuckle to follow along.

“Well. I see its made some sort of use.”

She nods and places it gently back into the pocket of her loincloth.

I find myself doing the same, fishing around my own pocket until i hear the small clatter of beads.

Ihold her bracelet out to her.

“Here. You lost this today.”

She gasps softly. My heart beckons for my unspoken yearning whenever i saw her eyes light up like that. And fuck, I curse myself for looking away.

She placed it back on her wrist.

“Thank you, Neteyam. I would have been looking for days.”

When her fingers brush my palm a new wave of sun-streaked warmth swallows my chest in the pale moonlight.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

I would do anything for you.

She chuckles softly and I swear I feel my knees buckle at the sound.

All I can do is stare at her for a moment. My eyes tracing her curves and imagine it’s my fingertips, kissing my small apologies onto her skin.

The small breeze wisps at the small loose hairs that edged at her forehead, scattered out of her braids. Her scent is sweet. Her eyes are wondrously doe-like. 

I wish i could pocket the sounds of her laughter. I wish i could reach for her and brush her skin against mine if it meant even a second of her warmth is relished in. 

I want her. All of her. I want her fire even if it burns me. I want her wild high-tide seas even if they drown me. I want her heart even if I must beg for it. I want her lips, and her hands. I want every rough edge and every smooth surface.

It finds a way to bind me in its threshold of longing before I even register what I've done.

My hand reaches out. The planes in the lines of my palm rest against her cheek and the pad of my thumb rubs small circles on the small temple of a space in front of her ear.

I’d forget I ever existed if it was convenient for her.

There was a time I pretended she didn’t exist. Where fear and thought collided with my panic.

Years ago. After I gave her that spiral.

I made her mere presence become a voidance in my life. A small patch of blankness that traced her shape.

There’s a reason this void stands between us. I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I was afraid. I was afraid of what my feelings would do to me. Of what it would do to the future olo’eyktan of this clan. I feared distraction. I feared devotion. And now i yearn for it. Call it a punishment, call it karma or something more. All I know is that I pushed her away. It of my arms, out of my circle, and I thought giving her that spiral would fix my mistakes.

It hurts me. The look in her eyes when I avoided her around the village. The way her gaze chased after me when i walked away

I was 15, afraid and stupid. I still haven’t forgiven myself from keeping her out of my circle.

Now I stand before her. This woman I may never deserve. This beautiful woman who will forever hold my heart in her hands.

She stares at me. But it's full of a sour memory that resonates on the edge of her tongue.

“Neteyam..”

There it is. How she says my name.

Fuck.

Fuck, why did I ever think, even for a mere moment my heart wasn’t hers?

Say it again.

Say it again,y/n please i beg you.

But I don't dare say it aloud.

Instead I whisper to her, my thumb stopping its movements for a moment as i cradle her head.

“Y/n, yawne. I am so, so sorry I didn't protect you today. I couldn't bare the thought of you in danger. “

She pushes my hand away, and for a moment the moonlight feels bitter.

“I don’t need your protection.”

It’s not that I think I don't deserve that.

But is it wrong for it to still ache?

“Y/n. please-”

“It is late, neteyam. I wish to rest now. Please.”

Theres a small tremble in the endnotes of her voice.

And i want to strangle the one who caused her this.

But what more can i do when i caused it myself?

I take a step back, gently bowing my head.

My eyes linger on her for a moment longer.

“Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Neteyam.”

As the tent flap closes, I take a step back. Staring up at the moon through the large crevices that topped the mountain of highcamp.

Maybe she doesn't belong in my arms.

I ache for her at night. I dream of holding her. I beg for the figment of her not to feebly collapse into  stardust and watch her wither out of my grasp. Her arrow aims at my heart and I tell her of my heartache.

She says nothing as I’m on my knees for her. Her glare is a cryptic mockery. She weakens me. Every moment of this fleeting moment within my reverie is a punishment. The morning sunset is bitter and the sky feels skeletal. 

To her my devotion is a joke and all I can think of is how fucking beautiful she is when she laughs.

I had a dream once that I kissed her. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. She tasted dark and delicate. 

I am hers. I was always hers. 

I’d let her ruin me.

Unravel every piece of me and stitch back together what left is salvaged of those small fragments and watch as they spell out her name.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

The next morning was calmer than yesterday to say the least.

Lo’ak went with my father to hunt.

Kiri went with my grandmother to help in the Tsahik tent.

Y/n was off with her own duties, and that left me to help my mother in our family's marui.

Oh yeah, did I mention Tuk?

It wasn’t abnormal that I often found myself conversing with Tuk.

She sits in with her smaller legs tucked under her body. Her hands are much like mine and my mothers, but small and juvenile. They lack gracefulness as they scramble with my braids, slipping the beads she made all by herself (Kiri helped) into my braids. She giggles when I tell her about my hunts. She smacks my forehead with her palm when I tilt my head the wrong way. She climbs over me in all sorts of odd ways while I wince every now and then at the occasional stepping on of my tail.

“Teyam. Stop looking down!”

Tuktirey huffs and my head snaps up, all my attention shifting to my youngest sibling.

“Ah. sorry tuk-tuk.”

She sighs dramatically and continues stringing the beads into my hair.

I smile at my youngest sister. I was close with Tuk. me and her being the only two children out of my siblings that closely resembled my mother’s na’vi features. I don’t credit myself completely. I don’t think it's fair to say that my mother and fathers genes are divided narrowly. Lo’ak my have my fathers appearance but he wields my mothers rebelliousness with pride. Her survival instincts. Her thrill for a chase. Her fire and her wind. Grandmother always found herself amused whenever my mother found herself annoyed with Lo’aks antics. Apparently my mother was no different when she was his age. Chasing rainstorms and dancing through fire. Grandmother always says lo’ak is my mothers shadow.

Me, on the other hand? i've always strived to be like my father. I still do. I remember sitting around a fire as a small child, listening to stories of his days of battle and heroicness. I don’t glorify my father as much as I did then. But he’s still the same man to me, all the same.

Tuk is in the middle of rambling about her morning gossip she gathered from Popiti, as she strings another bead onto my braids.

It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose. Being entertained by other’s conflicts.  Certainly not proper behavior for the eldest son of toruk makto. Alas, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't let Tuk carry herself away with her words without worry?

I can’t hide that I enjoy it. But telling myself its for tuk helps a bit.

“And then what?” I query Tuk softly, urging her to continue her story.

She giggles before placing a green colored bead on my braids.

“Well, Popiti’s big sister, Kyuna, didn’t take Takuk’s courting gift!”

I gasp, over-exaggerating my shock to amuse my younger sister, she nods, equally as shocked.

“I know, right!?”

I shake my head, feining disappointment as Tuk giggles.

“My eywa. Poor Takuk.”

Tuk nods, patting down my braids gently.

I try to look over to my right side at where she sat without turning my head.

“Did she say why?”

Tuk shrugged.

“Popiti heard her mom and Kyuna talking. Kyuna said that she didnt want Takuk for a mate.”

I nod, fidgeting with my beaded choker.

“Huh. Well then, good for Kyuna. She knows what she wants, i guess.”

I trail off with my own internal theories.

I knew Kyuna. She was a young healer in the clan. I didn’t care for her much. She was a bit cocky. Always had some excuse for getting out of tasks she didn’t feel like completing.

I also knew Takuk.

I had been in hunting groups with him. We went through iknimaya training together. He was smart. A fine huner. A decent provider. He seemed like a fine mate for anyone. 

Tuk suddenly gasped, her ears twitching as she stared up at me with her big eyes.

“Teyam! You could be Kyuna’s mate!”

I still at her revelation, she blinks at me with baited breath for  response.

I cant help but chuckle as i ruffle the smaller girl’s braids.

“It's a kind offer, Tuk. But I'm not ready to mate yet. Remember what I told father?” 

Who could forget? The most awkward family dinner in the world where i pleaded with my father to give me more time before I choose a mate. My siblings watching as me and my father bickered for a good hour. I think its really the only time iv’e stood up to him. Disagreed with him. My father has been patient since then when it comes to finding my tsahik. But the only reason he is because of my mother finally convinced him to give it a rest.

Finding a mate can be a long process for some.

I already knew who i wanted my mate to be. There wasn’t any debate. And I will wait for her. I will wait to earn her trust back. For as long as it takes. I will be hers for when shes ready. I am hers even when she’s not. That is a promise I refuse to break.

Tuk huffs.

“But whyyyy? Kyuna is pretty. Not as pretty as mama or kiri or y/n-

But she’s not mated.”

I sigh and gently rub Tuk’s back.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise.”

She huffs again but nods, going back to braiding my hair.

Shes in the middle of telling me about the big fish she caught when my father took her to the creek the other day when my mother enters the tent, a basket of fruits under her arm.

I straighten up a bit and Tuk gasps happily, standing to her feet and jogging over to my mother.

“Mama! You’re back!”

She hugs my mothers waist, and my mother places a hand on tuks head while trying to balance the basket filled to the brim with yovo fruits.

I stand up, gently taking the basket from under her arm, chuckling softly.

“Here, Sa’nok. (mother) Let me take that for you.”

She sighs in releif, nodding at me, now fully embracing tuk with two free arms.

“Irayo (thank you) Neteyam.”

Tuk sits back down in her previous spot and i carry the basket to the small wooden table, placing it down.

“Nice haul today?”

She smiles at me. “The new grove has almost completed its growth cycle. It's almost time for a new harvest.”

I nod, making a mental reminder to tell my father that later so he can organize more foraging groups. 

“Mama, look at how pretty Neteyam is.”

My mother gently examines my newly beaded braids with her fingers, gently taking each braid between her thumb and her palm.

“Very good work, tuktirey. You should help me do mine later. Why don’t you go to your grandmothers tent, hm? I left a large bowl of new beads on the far side corner, near her salve pouch.

Her eyes sparkle and before my mother can say another word, Tuk is racing out of the tent flap.

I laugh along with my mother, and she sits, starting to cut up some fruits.

“Ma’itan, could you help me with this?”

I nod, unsheathing my knife and sitting down next to her, helping her peel some fruits.

A silence fills the air for a moment, until my mothers soft, accented voice breaks through the gray.

“What troubles you, Neteyam?”

Of course she knew.

I was born from the pieces of my mothers ash-littered broken promises and my father’s guilt-ridden internal death sentence. 

My mother and i were tapestries weaved from the same colors.

I am my mother’s son.

She knew me like the back of her hand. She doesn’t have to recognize me by face. I know my father and my mother both love me. But when my mask cracks like this, my mother isn’t like my father. He tries to tighten it to ensure it doesn’t fall down again. My mother tries to mend the cracks.

I sigh, avoiding her gaze.

“Nothing Sa’nok. I am fine.”

I’m a shit liar. That’s just a known fact about me. She knows i’m lying. And maybe thats a good thing. Maybe she knows to just leave it be.

She chucks another fruit skin peel to the side as it forms a small pile with the other discadrded peels. 

“Is it because of your fathers words, yesterday? He was harsh, I know..But he is just afraid, Neteyam.”

That’s not what’s wrong, but I decide it's better than saying ‘hey ma i’m helplessly in love with a woman who probably hates my guts’

Daddy issues it is.

I nod, still avoiding her gaze.

“Yes. I know. Father just wants what's best for us.”

My mother sighs for a moment, pausing her movements, her knife ceasing its carving into the new fruit.

She looks over at me and she smiles.

There’s something about that smile. It’s like an echo that beckons your name. It’s like a face with lines scribbled over it. Sometimes when my mother looks at me I feel as if she’s seeing someone else. Flesh wrapped around the stories foretold under my bones. 

She see’s someone else’s shadow in my place. As if a ghost welcomes itselfinto the sequence of a wreckage of memories unknown to me. 

She speaks quietly.

“Your father and you are more alike than you may think, Neteyam.”

I can’t hep but smile at her words. Theres fanned flowers that grow under the gray cast of gilded clouds under the garden of her irises. She smiles too.

“I mean it, Neteyam. I see more of him in you every day, my son.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but my smile only falters slightly.

“What was he like, my father? When you first met him?”

My mother sighs, the infinite memories flickering past her eyes.

“When I first met your father, I was trying to kill him.”

I can’t help but chuckle. The story all too familiar to me from being told countless times as a child. But it’s not quite what im looking for.

“No, no- i know how you met but-

What was he like? Really?..”

My mother thinks for a moment, not sparing me a glance as she continues cutting her fruit.

“He was stupid. An idiot. I did not think he would survive a single day out here in the forest.”

I hum in agreement trying to visualize everything from her eyes.

“But he was..”

She sighs.

“He was persistent. Like a weak animal with no hope of survival. But it just refuses to die. Sometimes I thought the world moved twice as fast for him..he was eager. To learn, to live. To taste the wind and the sky..”

For a moment, I see a secondary shadow behind the  fragments of my parents love story.

My father told me he felt drawn to my mother from the first moment he saw her.

I see something else in place of the ghost behind the path of stars that led my mother to my father.

I see a man who yearns for a woman. I see a man on his knees, I see his devotion. I see his heart in his hands, i see his stained fingertips of an unfamiliar sleepless skin.

I see a woman so beautiful she might as well be a figment of the moonlight, and i’m jealous of the wind and the air and the breeze because of how easily it touches her skin.

I see her arrow aimed at his heart and the distrust in her eyes. I see her anger, and her betrayal as it echoes through a bitter blue heinous flame.

I see y/n. And I see her wall that kept me out.

I look at my mother, a shell of something that once was taking a new shape.

Was it possible? For history to rhyme?

“How..how long did it take you to love him? Even though he was an enemy.. Even though you didn;t trust him?”

My mother is silent for another moment.

She gently places her knife down, placing her hands on her thighs as she stared at the blank tented wall infront of her.

“I think it was foretold by the stars, ma’itan.

I hated him. I hated him because of what he was and where he came from. I hated his false demon body and i hated the way he walked, and talked. I hated his hair and his hands and his eyes. 

I hated him because of what his people took from me. I hated him because of the pain they caused my people..

The day I found him in the forest i was going to kill him. My arrow was aimed at his heart. But when the great mother spoke to me I knew better than not to listen.

I think i was always meant to meet him. To teach him my people’s ways..Because it led me to loving him. 

That morning when I returned from the tree of souls with him, 

My mother had told me if i choose this path, to be his mate, i could never be tsahik.

I told her, "He was my path.”

I’m still as i take in my mother’s words. But the clouds still creep behind my uncertain heartbeat.

“But hometree. And the war. How did you forgive him?”

My mother gently takes my hand in hers, and she takes a breath

“Ma’itan. You will someday learn that love is not easy. It is hungry. It is impatient. It is loud and it is often hidden.

Love gave me many gifts. You, your siblings, my home and my family.

But it has taken much from me all the same. 

Love is like swimming in the ocean at night. It's deep, it's dark, the shallows far from reach. But Within that darkness I found your father. I found my light, and someday you will find yours.”

Love is sacrificial. My mother was right. Love isnt easy. Love is sometimes caged and flightless, thick with bitter scents and tearstained starlight. Its bare, and its real, its bruised and blemished and its beautiful because its her. Its Y/n. My y/n. Her name is a hymn of scattered prayers lost to a dreaded dawn and a coppered colored sun. She’s made of every broken and perfect piece of the universe and the stars stumble over their words to describe her beauty

She’s the moon and i’m the sun. Withering myself away every night to allow her to shine. 

I will sacrifice. I will work. 

She has weakened me. The night sky canvases her skin while the bleakness of sunlight mosaics mine. Famined for her touch, I refuse to look away. I refuse to blink. The sky is a game of chance and the sunset swallows me whole. The scarlet screams in the hellish hues of cerise ablaze under her skin.

I will not settle for anything less than her.

Love is sacrificial. Then i will steal the night sky for her.

I softly smile at my mother before squeezing her hand.

“Thank you, mother.”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

(Y/n’s pov) 

Love was a funny thing.

You used to think your love for neteyam was forged from heartbeat-rhythmed nightskies and dripping orange soaked sunsets.

It was dreamlike. Bleeding through every crevice and hidden place with its incandescence. 

He was a part of you. Apart of everything you were and everything you did.

He was in your dreams when you closed your eyes at night.

He was in the shied morning sun rays that crept over the mountain tops. He was in the wild winds and draped under midnight melodies.

Its the memories of smaller things you remember most. 

Giggling while he fumbled with an arrow when he noticed you were watching him practice. 

Helping Neytiri stitch together his cummerbund to gift to him when he had completed his iknimiya. You remember the look of pride in his eyes when he wore a piece of your handiwork to represent this new chapter in his life. Concluding his training as a hunter, and becoming a warrior.

You remember taking walks with him through the forest, and the way he would hold a branch back out of your way.

You remember hunting with him, and racing him down the trailed path. 

You remember perching on a branch and watching the stars with him. You remember his warmth as he whispered to you all the constellations his father taught him. You remember his hands gently guiding yours to trace the patterns scattered among the stars.

You remember a spark.

And then, you remember a gust of wind that dulled the warmth.

Distance. You can recall distance.

It started out small.

Frequent training with his father.

Watching his siblings.

Hunting. Preparing. Working. 

His touch became something you started to crave. Not something that came granted. You remember waiting for him. Waiting for him to return from his hunt, waiting to go stargazing. Liek he promised. You remember checking the sky, the scarlet and blue collide to signify the subduing trials of daylight making its exit.

You remember your mother asking you what you were doing outside.

“Waiting.”

Is all you responded.

You didn’t tell her what you waited for.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He never showed up.

As the sky darkened, it started to rain.

There weren't any stars that night anyways. spider dragged you back inside. Complaining about how he wasn’t taking care of you if you got sick. 

Maybe it wasn't rain at all. Maybe the stars didn't come out that night because they were too busy falling through the cracks left in your heart.

You felt forgotten. Unloved. Unwanted.

Lo’ak told you that Jake was always on Neteyam’s ass about his training, and thats why he was so distant.

But it wasn’t just the distance.

His eyes no longer brightened when he looked at you. Its the gaze you give someone when they’re speaking to you, and you aren’t really listening. You’re just waiting for them to be done talking.

Spider watched you come home and cry one night, listened to you scream into your palms and rant angrily for hours about the boy who broke your heart.

Then, the night the sky turned red, a new kind of broken was born.

You remember hearing the whooshing of wings and panicked shrieks of stray ikrans, The unfamiliar scent of something metallic and sulfured. 

You remember running into the morning that barely crept ist light over the canopy tips, the still dark sky like a cloak encased the world.

You remember finding your mothers songcord on the ground. You remember finding her body. You remember seeing your fathers not but a few feet away.

You remember the feeling of the air being mercilessly ripped from your lungs.

You remember Jake running towards you, his own panic flooding your ears as he begged you to leave with him. That it wasn’t safe there.

He had to drag you away, holding you tight to him as you practically collapsed into his chest in the front of his ikran. 

You remember stumbling into the village upon return, Neytiri catching you in her arms and the blurred sight of her own tear stained face as she cupped your face in her hands. You screamed and cried and fell to your knees as Lo’ak rushed to your side, shushing you gently and rubbing your back.

You remember showing spider the song chord.

You think he cried harder than you did. You both lost your family that day.

You remember the hollowness in the cup of your palm as neteyam held your hand. 

You remember when he gifted you that spiral under the starlight.

You always thought he was the sun. And now you know for sure.

Forever out of your reach. Aching for the stretches of salvageable warmth blessed upon your finger tips. You could chase it to the ends of Pandora but every night it would abandon you. 

You loved him even if you didn’t know what he was.

Like the sky he was a mystery. Endless but in the midst of the universe it held many treasures he swore he kept just for you. Songs of starlight and supernovas.

You reached for nothing. Hoping to grab the sky and pull yourself into his light. Feel the sunlight on your palm and chase it like the golden hour was a game of chance. 

But now, you knew for sure he was the sun.

But he wasn’t your sun.

This sun was made of stone. It was heavy and roughed. 

The sky was no longer a mystery. The sun no longer honeyed your skin in favor. Tragedy prevailed the night sky and when his blanket of warmth tried to regain its sanctuary of safety to encase your tainted trust, all you saw was a trail of falling stars you called rain and broken promises.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

One of your tasks is to teach the younger children of the clan.

You didn’t mind it much. You often found it quite enjoyable.

You beat out most of the young warriors in your group when the clan was discussing who would train the young warriors. Only the best archer of your age group would have such a role.

It was down to you and a girl named Kyuna. She was skilled, but you were better

You chuckle as the little ones scurry past you, little shrieking giggles as they place their practice bows in a pile. 

You doubted yourself. You doubted your ability to train those younger than you.  What reasons can you give them for fighting when your own was grief?

Seeing the children and watching them learn gave you hope. Hope for a better future. 

The lessons today seemed to drag on. The thought of Neteyams words had lingered in your mind since last night. 

You sighed to yourself softly as you started to gather all the bows in a basket. Letting your thoughts run free.

“Need help with that?”

You swung yourself around, a hand instinctively resting on the top of your knife sheath, 

You found yourself face to face with a slightly taller na’vi boy. His braids to his shoulders. His smile hatched itself on baited breath, his white freckles that scattered across his face.

“Makeyo. For eywa’s sake don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled in mock surrender, throwing his hands up.

“I know better than to mess with the mighty Y/n. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my neck.”

You roll your eyes and shoved him playfully.

Makeyo was one of your fathers students. He was a skilled archer, often competing with Neteyam. You grew closer after your parents death. Makeyo was your partner when lt came to training the younger children of the clan. Having already completed his iknimiya, and being a strong piece of the people, he was perfect for assisting you with your role.

“Great practice today, huh?”

The two of you found yourselves chatting while you walked back to the supply tent to return the arrows.

You nodded.

“Ya’here is getting better. Her form has improved.”

He smiled at you, his tail gently brushing your thigh.

“She’ll make a fine warrior one day. She always tells me she wants to be just like you?”

You try to hide the small shock that jolted through you at the sudden contact, with an awkward smile.

“Well, thats scary as shit.”

He raised a brow.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Knowing she wants to be just like me? I’m a wreck.”

He sighs, holding the tent flap open for you.

“Well, I think you’re perfect.”

The world seems to still for a moment, and your body feels stiff.

“You’re brave. And strong, and honorable…”

He took a step forward. 

“You’re passionate, and you care for others. Especially those kids.”

He gently places a hand on your arm, its firm, but its not demanding.

You feel your breath hitch, and your tail flicks behind you.

“Makeyo. We shouldn’t-”

“Are we intruding?”

You turn to see spider and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak glares at Makeyo, and spider marches in between the two of you, his smaller frame seemingly less intimidating, but you appreciate the effort.

“All right back it up lover boy.

No no, farther than that. far enough that i don’t smell your lack of personal space.”

Spider tugs at your wrist, shooing Makeyo away.

You groan, smacking  spider with your tail.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Makeyo.”

Makeyo nods, waving awkwardly to spider and lo’ak before making his exit.

“Uh huh. Keep it moving.”

Lo’ak ushers him away and you hiss at both of them.

“Hey. Dumb and dumber. what the fuck?”

You glare.

Spider throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

“I don’t like that guy, sis.”

The three of you start making your way back towards the sully tent for the night.

You bickered the whole way.

Spider sighs,pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. 

“All i’m saying is, big mac over there-”

“His name is Makeyo.”

Spider shrugs.

“Same thing-

But anyways. I don’t like him.”

Lo’ak nods.

“He’s desperate. He wants you bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Makeyo was just being nice.”

Lo’ak scoffs.

“Y/n, I love you. I really do. But if that’s nice, then flirting might mean getting you pregnant.”

Spider jumps and smacks the back of Lo’ak’s head, making him stumble and wince.

“Son of a bitch-

What was that for!?”

Spider glares at the taller blue boy. 

“Don’t jinx it! I’m not ready to be an uncle!?”

“Who’s going to be an uncle?”

Its the moment you hear Jake’s voice the three of you realize you’ve stumbled into the Sully's tent.

The three of you look at one another, then back at Jake.

Spider whistles, pointing to an imaginary watch.

“Oh boy. Would you look at the time? Time for me to go meet norm for dinner…I’ll catch you guys later.”

Lo’ak calls spider a bitch under his breath for abandoning the two of you two deal with the heap of awkwardness.

Jake resumes his task and Neytiri’s voice calls from inside.

“Lo’ak, Y/n. come on, its time to eat.”

You make your way inside, and Neytiri and Kiri come into view, steaming some meat over a fire.

Kiri waves and jogs her way over to give you a hug, her only slightly taller frame pressed against yours.

“Hey. how was your day?” She hums, tucking a braid behind your ear.

Kiri’s voice was melodic and soothing. It drips like the dew drops onto morning grass, kissed by the forest scent.

You go to answer, but before you can you’re body slammed by a smaller na’vi.

“Y/n! You’re back!”

It only takes a blink of an eye for you to open your arms for her, picking her up and putting her on your hip.

“Hey Tuk! How’s my sweet girl?”

Tuk giggles and nuzzles her head onto your neck.

Lo’ak rudley pushes his way between you and kiri.

“Excuse me, don’t i get a hug?”

He huffs dramatically, flipping his braids like some sort of diva.

“Of course you can, Ma’itan.” Neytiri appears behind him and kisses his head. You and the girls giggle and Lo’ak groans.

“Maaa. come on-”

He swats neytiri away and she chuckles, giving you a quick shoulder squeeze next.

“Did your lessons go okay today? How were the children?”

You take a seat next to Kiri, Lo’ak on your other side as Neteyam takes a seat next to Tuk, 

You nod in response to Neytiri as Jake hands everyone a piece of meat.

“Doing well. They are making progress. They are learning faster every day. I think they will be ready to try larger arrows soon. Possibly farther targets.”

Jake pats your back.

“Nice work, kiddo.”

“Speaking of targets...”

Lo’ak mumbles under his breath,you respond by smacking him with your tail.

“What?”

Kiri raises an eyebrow.

Lo’ak shrugs.

“Makino or whatever his name is was flirting with Y/n.”

Kiri smiles at you, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Makeyo? He is a fine warrior.”

You groan, not noticing how Neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

“Makeyo?”

His deep, accented voice pulls your focus towards where the boy sat.

All the sudden the space arounds you feels a bit shallow. Lo’ak answers for you.

“Oh yeah. He was really quite brave. He wouldn't have been so brave if he knew me and spider were planning to feed him to a thanator.”

Jake sighs.

“Must we plot a murder at the dinner table?”

Neytiri nods, swallowing her food and handing a piece of her fruit to Tuk.

“Your father is right. Besides, There is no rush for any of you to mate. Y/n, Makeyo would make a fine life partner but you need not decide anytime soon, my sweet.”

Tuk pipes up suddenly.

“Teyam is gonna be mated with kyuna!”

Neteyam nearly spits out his water, going into a coughing fit as he repeatedly brings his fist to his chest to attempt to stop it.

Jake immediately started patting his back, concerned.

“Jesus christ boy! Easy now, don’t forget to swallow.”

“You have chosen Kyuna?”

It comes out more bitter than you thought. The mere thought of another woman in his arms stinging an unfamiliar scorch in your chest,

Or maybe..it wasn’t so unfamiliar.

Neteyam finally breathes normally again and shake his head frantically.

‘“What? No! Of course not.”

“Kyuna? Really bro? Shes kinda a bitch…”

Lo’ak says, attempting to mask it with his own fake cough.

“Hey. Language.”

Jake scolds, pointing his knife he was using to cut Tuk’s meat with at Lo’ak.

“Its true though! She’s always hustling me to do her chores!”

Neytiri raises her eyebrow.

“If it happens repeatedly why do you keep falling for it?”

Lo’ak had no answer.

Kiri clicked her tongue.

“Y/n, didn’t you overrun Kyuna’s role for training the younger children.”

“Oh yeah! That's right! Y/n made her eat dust in that archery trial. No surprise there.”

You felt a small heat spread to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal…”

Neytiri chuckles and Neteyam speaks up.

“so..Makeyo. You work with him?’

You nod.

“He helps me train the younger group of children. He’s actually quite helpful.

You didn’t notice the way neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

But Lo’ak did.

“Yeah. But he sucks at Ikran riding.” 

You raised your eyebrow. 

Come to think of it, You don’t think you ever saw him ride his ikran.

“He is?”

Lo’ak nods.

“He and Neteyam went hunting one time. The idiot crashed into a tree while neteyam swerved it easily.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, and Lo’ak winked at neteyam.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Authors note:

HOLY FUCKKKK! I’m finally done! This actually did not take as long as i thought it would. 

It’s not as long as the last chapter ya’ll i’m sorry. But hopefully the close times in which both were posted makes up for it?

We’re gonna get some kiri and y/n bonding time in next chapter and hopefully some more jealous neteyam. Btw what did we think of the neteyam pov? Leave some comments about it so i can know whether to add it in later.

Taglist:

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

[shu-box-puns]

I never would have given you to them; not for anything (Tsu'tey x Reader)

Last Chapter <- Part 3 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: It is said that Na'vi are defined by their actions. And oh boy, what a statement you make.

Word Count: 7832

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

NOTE: The term 'Zaza' is a gender neutral way to address a parental figure.

The Well of Souls was almost how Tsu’tey had left it a week ago. Eerie and quiet as if the Great Mother herself slumbered beneath the soft moss, her breath disturbing the glowing vines of her Tree with her every exhale. Today, however, the quiet was disturbed by the voices of the children, both soft spoken and respectful, but no less passionate.

<”Will they be okay, Kiri?”> Little Tuk asked from somewhere within the bowl, her tone laced with childish worry and hope. At Tsu’tey’s side, Neytiri’s ears perked as her steps quickened. Jake was no less eager as he increased his pace, rounding the cliffs to the sloping side of the Well of Souls. Tsu’tey followed. 

<”They will heal.”> Kiri finally said in that all-knowing voice of her’s. The one that imbued the wisdom of a Tsahik into her words. <”But it will take time.”>

<”We do not have time.”> Neteyam interjected, anxiety evident in his tone. 

Fluidly, Neytiri leapt over a fallen log as she came to the lip of the slope into the Well of Souls. She paused only long enough to scan the immediate undergrowth, an arrow notched and her tail flicking to and fro. Jake brushed past her, starting a calculated descent whilst his mate watched his back. Tsu’tey brought up the rear, soothed by the calm conversation happening below as well as the sounds of birds in the canopy above. For now, all was well.

<”It will be getting dark soon.”> Lo’ak interjected, <”if we’re taking them back to the clan, we should call the ikran.”>

None of the adults vocalised their presence, weary of Neteyam’s earlier reports of recoms lurking between the trees. Instead, like they had so many times before, the trio moved with quiet purpose. Conscious that surprise would be an advantage.

<”Mother told us to leave them here.”> Neteyam immediately argued.

<”Not everyone is like Dad!”> Lo’ak countered, <”and not every marine who stumbles out here is blessed by Eywa. If we leave them, they will die.”> 

<”Perhaps we should do that then.”> Neteyam bit back almost immediately, anger edging into his tone. The malicious words echoing around the silent cliffs. The older boy sighed heavily, and Tsu’tey could tell by Lo’ak’s silence that he was glaring hard at his brother.

A sharp inhale from Neytiri briefly drew his attention from the verbal sparring match. The huntress motioned with her notched bow to a booted footprint imprinted into an especially thick clump of moss beside her foot. The footprints led further down the slope and into the bowl. Together, the trio followed the trail.

They came across the body before any of the children responded. It was a recom, left crumbled where it had been shot dead and left to bleed its nutrients back into the earth from two arrow wounds cut into its torso. Tsu’tey smelt smoke lingering on the body’s clothes, and knew the soldier had used his weapon before he was disposed of.

<”Whatever these things are, they are unnatural.”> Neteyam continued, <”dead people should not continue to walk Eywa’eveng.”>

To Tsu’tey’s surprise, it was Spider who responded. 

<”Bro, you don’t mean that.”> 

<”You heard your Dad.”>

Tsu’tey winced. 

<”Yeah, well, obviously he got it wrong. He’s grieving, he’s going to jump to conclusions.”> Spider blurted, scrambling to get his words out before Neteyam could expand on his statement. He laughed nervously, <”it was probably just the shock. You know he’s been a bit on edge recently. I’m sure that when we take them home, he’ll change his mind. Yeah! He’s got to. Right?”>

The dead soldier was completely forgotten now. He stepped over the body, finding himself in the open space of the bowl with the graves tucked away in the far corner, guarded by the Great Mother’s tree. Which was where he found the kids, all perched upon Eywa’s throne, hidden between the coiling roots. 

He hadn’t even considered questioning where the recom was, despite them being the topic of the conversation, but Tsu’tey didn’t have to wonder for long. Not after he drew nearer and immediately realised that the children were crowded around a wounded body. 

Spider’s panicked words slammed into the side of his face as bile slid up Tsu’tey’s throat as he took in the state of the recom. The blood splattered clothes, the state of its feet, muddy and streaked with cuts and dirt. The limp way it had been arranged within the roots, clearly breathing, but only just. Kiri crouched above its torso, smearing a herbal paste over bullet wounds that Tsu’tey could smell even from such a distance. The body did not so much as twitch under her careful ministrations, its face the optime of calm. 

Spider was holding tightly onto one of their limp hands, his knuckles white.

<”Spider,”> Kiri sighed, wiping her messy hands on her thigh before taking some offered leaf bandages from Tuk with a grateful incline of her head. She let the name hang in the air whilst she carefully wrapped the wound. <”This isn’t of Eywa’s doing-”>

Spider’s face scrunched up under her careful words, before he promptly interrupted her. <”But what if this was Grace?”> He asked, something desperate brewing in his tone. <”What if it was your mum that found us? You would have fought my Dad to protect her, no questions asked. Regardless of whether her body was made by the demons.”> 

<”Spider-”> <”Don’t pretend to understand, because you don’t!”> Spider snarled. His raised his head from staring down at his Zaza, to fix the other children with a sharp look. Wisely, they did not try to interrupt him. <”Eywa, I hate this. I finally got my Zaza back and you’re all pretending like it’s a fucking omen or something.”> He paused, fury burning in his eyes. <”Which they’re not! They’re exactly as they’ve always been! Just like Dad and Jake described them! They didn’t fucking know us and they still protected us! TWICE NOW! Bad people don’t do that!”>

<”Spider.”> Tuk whispered, <”you’ll wake them up.”> Spider’s fury abruptly spluttered out. <”We’re not sure if they <i>will</i> wake up.”> He told her gently, to which Tuk let out a quiet little, “oh.”

Fuck stealth, Tsu’tey hated that tone on his son. He despised the anger, the wobble of his voice as emotion tried to get the better of him. He picked up his pace, growing closer by the second as Spider grew quiet. The grip he had on the recom’s hand became like the desperate hold of a survivor on a lifeline. 

Spider turned to look at Neteyam, who stubbornly held his gaze. <”If this was your Dad, if he had died and this was your only connection to him, you would be fighting just as hard as me!”> His gaze snapped to Lo’ak. <”No, fuck that, you’d be fighting even harder than I am.”>

Tsu’tey couldn’t hear anymore. He wouldn’t survive it. He hadn’t even noticed Spider was feeling this way. And what kind of father was he? To not notice his own son hurting. Regardless of his own grief, Tsu’tey should have been better. Should have been paying more attention.

Neteyam spotted him first over Spider’s shoulder, his pinned ears flying upwards in acknowledgement. This of course drew the attention of the rest of them, including Spider who seemed almost reluctant to acknowledge anyone else entering the Well of Souls. The words were trapped in Tsu’tey’s tight throat, so he allowed Jake to call ahead, asking if everyone was okay. 

Neteyam might have answered him. Or perhaps it was Kiri. Tsu’tey wasn’t listening enough to care. All of his attention had gone to Spider. To the tears pearling on his lashes, which his boy refused to let fall. To the way he clutched the recom’s limp hand in both of his, clinging tightly.

<”You better be about to apologise.”> His son warned him, eyebrows drawn tight. His posture screaming defensive. 

Tsu’tey’s own expression broke. He felt his icy bravado melt into something pulsing and raw. Something that encouraged him to drop his bow, to cast aside his arrows and drop into a kneel at his son’s feet. Words were still beyond him, but he knew Spider was picking up on his micro expressions. He knew from the widening of his son’s eyes that he could see Tsu’tey’s regret in the lowering of his ears, the thinning of his lips. 

<”Son-”> <”No!”> Spider jumped in immediately, his expression fierce. Tsu’tey noted how he reared up onto his knees, hovering over the recom in a position that could not have been easy on his thighs. An easily defensible position, another part of Tsu’tey’s brain provided. <”Don’t try to talk me out of this! I’ve been good. I’ve listened, and now you’re going to listen to me before they die, again!”>

That stung. Enough that Tsu’tey had to suppress a flinch. Lips thinning, he managed a disjointed nod. Despite himself, he felt a swell of pride inflating in his chest despite the tone the boy was taking with him. If Spider needed to feel in control for the moment, then he would allow it. There would be plenty of time for a proper conversation later, when it was safe. 

<”What happened?”> Tsu’tey finally pushed out, eyes flickering from Spider’s face to the body. 

<”Zaza, they-”> Spider swallowed loudly, <”they got shot.”> Tsu’tey wanted to reach out and put a steady hand on his son’s shaking shoulder, but restrained himself. Despite Spider’s posture screaming uncertainty, Tsu’tey knew it might not be what he wanted right now. Spider would ask for comfort, when he felt he needed it, and not a moment before. So although he clung tightly to the recom’s hand and shifted as if he wanted to curl into Tsu’tey like he always did when he was scared, Tsu’tey made no move to invade his space. Instead, he remained patient and quiet, allowing Spider to gather himself. 

Spider stayed put, so so did Tsu’tey. 

<”They took a cartridge of bullets defending Lo’ak. We need to get them home.”>

Tsu’tey nodded, slow and steady. That was the plan before coming here. If anything, this simply cemented what Mo’at had been trying to tell him. He looked at his son now. His boy, and knew Spider already felt it. That thin, fragile connection between parent and child, however strained. Neytiri’s shadow passed over Tsu'tey, her steps quiet and respectful as she rounded the body to crouch at Kiri’s side, her eyes flicking over the bandages. <”Are they stable?”> She asked, glancing briefly at Spider, who dipped his head in a nod, before leaning in to check for a pulse.

Her eldest daughter told her they were, before leaning back to allow her mother to work and offer a second opinion. Despite being only fourteen, Kiri was well versed in the practices of a Tsahik thanks to Mo’at, but Neytiri had countless more years of experience and learning on her hands. 

<”Eywa has kept them from drifting far.”> Kiri offered as Neytiri worked. Clicking her tongue, Neytiri withdrew her hand. <”Indeed.”> She agreed, pausing to squeeze Kiri’s knee in ‘well done’, before reaching up and pulling the recom’s kuru free from the Tree. The braid fell with a soft thump to the roots, but the body did not stir. Tsu’tey held his breath, knowing, even with his severe lack of spiritual and medical understanding, that that was not a good sign.

Spider clung even tighter to the recom’s hand. His other slipping down to cup the back of it, his little thumb idly tracing circles into cool skin.

<”Strange.”> Neytiri rumbled aloud, leaning over the still body to peel back its eyelids and peer into its lax pupils. Their eyes did not move. The pupils hardly contracted from the glow of the Tree. Neytiri clicked her hand on either side of its head, checking for a reaction, a flick of their ears or a wince. The recom breathed but did not wake.

<”How bad is it?”> Jake asked, standing upon the moss at the foot of the throne. He had one hand on his gun, whilst Tuk had at some point slithered away from Kiri’s side and gotten herself picked up by her father. She was tucked into his neck now, watching the scene with large, thoughtful eyes. 

<”Not good.”> Neytiri said simply, <”the Tree should have offered enough energy for them to resurface. But they are not. The connection was not strong enough.”>

<”What could possibly be stronger than the Tree of Souls.”>

<”The bond.”> Neytiri said simply, then turned to Tsu’tey who called on every ounce of pride he owned to not shrink back. His stomach somersaulted under Neytiri’s measured gaze, her expression all business as she seemed to look into him. Her tone was slightly softer when she continued, losing some of a professional sharpness. <”I am sure you do not need me to explain it.”> He didn’t, but that didn’t mean he was tripping over himself to do what was needed. 

His stomach was trying to twist itself into unpleasant knots with the implications of it. With the idea that he would have to touch his kuru to the recoms in order to wake them. That it would emotionally mean nothing beyond survival. 

Throughout his life, Tsu’tey had seen this form of healing performed before, after hunting mishaps or riding accidents that left Mo’at worrying whether the patient would wake again. Setting aside the complex spiritual and social beliefs about one’s kuru, the practice was practically undoubtedly reliable and used as a last resort. Borrowed from the early stages of a na’vi’s life when the child shared Tsaheylu with their parent, the bond allowed oxygen and nutrients to be passed from one body to another. Biologically, it helped rouse an unconscious patient, and in some cases, prevent death from coming to pass.

Tsu’tey could feel his family’s eyes on him, the silent concern of Jake at his back. The sharp, uncertain feeling of Spider’s gaze burning into the side of his head. The confusion of the other children. Neytiri’s eyes were steady and confident when he met them, a stark contrast to how Tsu’tey felt.

<“There is nothing else that can be done?”> Tsu’tey asked, just to be sure. He did not want to form a connection that was not necessary. Not if he didn’t have to. But if the bond would allow everyone to return to High Camp a little bit quicker, he would do it. The less time spent in the forest, the better.

<”Not here.”> Neytiri told him, and that was enough for Tsu’tey. 

He sighed quietly to himself before rising and shuffling around to the recom’s head, now that he wasn’t blinded by rage, he could see his mate more clearly in their features. He could study the patterns of their glowing freckles and could relax in the newness. Their shell may be different, but if what his son had said was true, then their mind would be familiar to him. It might even feel like returning home. 

<”Fine.”> Tsu’tey gritted out through tight teeth. 

Neytiri nodded, reached over the body to grasp his knee and offer a tight squeeze of comfort. Her eyes caught his and held, seriousness taking over everything else. <”You need only pull them to the surface with you.”> She instructed him, sounding so much like her mother. <”Do not probe and do not get lost.”>

He nodded. 

Spider had relaxed slightly throughout the interaction, something in him soothed now that Tsu’tey had made it clear that he did not intend to inflict harm. And as Tsu’tey pulled his kuru over his shoulder, his son shuffled closer to his side, as he always did when Tsu’tey prepared to disconnect from the world and get lost in Tsaheylu. Tsu’tey did not acknowledge the action, eyes steady on his own hands as Spider leaned more heavily into his side, seeking the comfort he did not feel comfortable asking for with so many eyes present. As compensation, Tsu’tey loosely curled his tail behind his son, not touching, but offering a makeshift border of security. 

Kuru in hand, Tsu’tey stole a moment for himself to breathe. In and out. Smooth and simple. He could feel his nerves within the braid thrumming in anticipation as he carefully reached for the recom’s kuru. The hair was recently washed and cared for, and almost soft beneath his finger despite the ordeal it had suffered after hours in the rain and the mud. The weight was like any other kuru, and had nothing alien about it. Tsu’tey took comfort from that as he brought the end close to his own; both sets of tendrils were already eagerly reaching for one another. 

The bond wrapped around him like an embrace, urging his eyelids closed and loosening the tension from his shoulders. Then it grew taught and dragged him mercilessly down, down, down. Tsu’tey allowed it. He could still feel the moss against his legs. The warmth of Spider now leaning fully into his side. He was still present, even as he spiralled. 

At first, there was no scene, only darkness and the throb of emotions Tsu’tey couldn’t name. He focused hard, opening his mind to the fog. Allowing it to enter him as he entered into it. He met no resistance, and for a moment, the entity seemed to hold its breath. Then it yielded to him.

His surroundings faded into existence slowly. 

He was in the Well of Souls still, but the entire clan was here with him, decked out in war paint and rallying weapons. Clans from all over poured into the bowl, whooping to passing ikran riders and hunters on pa’li. 

It was the night before the Battle for The Tree of Souls, Tsu’tey realised. But the recom would have no recollection of this night, so he must have pushed harder than he originally realised for him to be seeing his own memory within Tsaheylu.

Across the way, he saw Jake’s avatar with Neytiri, talking amongst themselves beneath the metal ikran. He saw himself there too, stood at the foot of Eywa’s throne, painted in yellow and navy and decked out in his war beads. His younger self had his back to him, but Tsu’tey could clearly see the proud sway of his tail, the way he held himself with the arrogance of a newly appointed Olo’eyktan.

On unsteady feet, Tsu’tey approached himself. This younger version of himself who was still so free of the burdens he was yet to shoulder. The version of himself still ignorant to the true might of the Sky People and would later be betrayed critically by one of his own people.

This version of himself towered over the human body of his mate before they became his mate. The human sat comfortably among the weaving roots of Eywa’s throne, wearing Sky Person camouflage armour and decked out in bright yellow war paint. The image was enough to jog Tsu’tey’s memory.

He often recalled this encounter fondly, as it was the first time he’d truly begun to respect his mate. It had also been one of the first times he’d realised just how much the infuriating Sky Person had really meant to him. 

Even now, he could recall the bitter sting of panic on the back of his tongue, when the metal ikran had returned with a wounded Grace and no Y/n. Within moments of Jake reappearing, he had been demanding confirmation they were still alive, to which Jake had assured them that Trudy planned to return to Hell’s Gate by eclipse to retrieve them, since they had unfinished business to tie up before making an escape. He had grumbled his displeasure and sulked until his not mate had returned to the People. 

This image before him, with his not mate seated proudly upon Eywa’s throne whilst Tsu’tey stood confidently at their feet, had been their first conversation following a brief reunion. It had been a rocky period of their relationship, with betrayal pushing a wedge between them, after HomeTrees destruction. Tsu’tey had felt raw and explosive. Annoyed by the infuriatingly neutral face they constantly wore beneath their mask as they cleaned and repaired a weapon Tsu’tey knew would kill a Na’vi with three shots, and obliterate a Sky Person in one.

The him of the present approached the duo, ears pricking at the tell tales signs of snarled conflict between these past versions of themselves. They were so young here. So unaware of what trials were yet to come.

“-you are a Demon!” His younger self spat, to which the human soldier drew themselves up tall. Their expression smoothed out to something similar to what Eytukan usually wore when he was conducting crucial business. “How can I possibly trust you after everything that has happened?” 

His not mate took their sweet time responding, essentially leaving Tsu’tey’s younger self to wait in line for their attention. They took their time, drawing it out, testing whether or not Tsu’tey would stay or storm off in a huff. As he knew he would, his younger self remained where he stood, impatiently waiting for them to respond.

And when they did, it was as slow and deliberate as a palulukan stalking its prey. Their expression held poorly suppressed fury, something roiling and barely controlled. It had Tsu’tey’s younger self shifting on his feet, but he did not step back. 

“Trust my rage.” They told his counterpart simply. “Trust that and nothing else, if you must.”

The yellow war paint smeared across their brow and dotted along their cheeks beneath their mask beautifully complimented their skin, Tsu’tey thought to himself. His heart twinging at this young, fiery version of his mate. The human held his younger self’s eye, and Tsu’tey watched himself visibly stiffen, before his ears lowered ever so slightly. 

He remembered coming to a conclusion at that moment. A realisation, that he had never trusted them more than he did when they looked at him like that. Perhaps it had been the certainty of their tone. Or the familiar narrowing of their eyebrows. Both of which contributed to the look they always wore when they had set their mind on something and would burn the world to accomplish it. 

He remembered they had worn that same expression weeks prior when Tsu’tey had goaded them into what was essentially a pissing contest. A stupid competition, so petty that he could barely remember it. It might have had something to do with archery, or perhaps climbing, he wasn’t sure, but whichever it was, they had sent him on his way afterwards with his tail between his legs, and his cheeks blazing in shame. 

“Okay.” His past self accepted, before carefully climbing upon Eywa’s throne until he could crouch beside them.

Tsu’tey’s brows furrowed at the action. He did not remember doing that. After his not mate had told him to trust their fury, he had nodded and walked away, his stomach tightening with butterflies. He certainly had not ventured closer, nor had he taken a seat beside them.

His past self completely ignored what Tsu’tey hadn’t done, and continued to stray. “Why did you remain behind within the demon’s compound?” He asked his not mate, who seemed to soften ever so slightly at his curiosity. 

That look sent alarm bells ringing through Tsu’tey’s body. At this point, their relationship had been rocky, almost a rivalry rather than a friendship. They certainly hadn’t looked at him like that until months after this, but even then, they had tried their hardest to hide it. “We needed more concrete information, so I got it.” They told his younger self simply, “do you want to See?” 

Tsu’tey jumped as their head abruptly lifted from their gun and pinned him in place with serious, unblinking eyes. He took a startled step back, watching the memory watch him with a knowing look. 

<”You can see me?”> He breathed, panic creeping into the back of his throat. <”How can you see me?”>

<”You have not done this before, have you?”> His not mate mused, their resulting smile bittersweet. <”I See you.”> They told him, <”and yet, you do not.”> <”I do not understand.”> 

<”You will.”> They reassured him before rising to their feet. <”But only if you trust me.”> They extended a hand, palm facing up, as small and innocent as they had always pretended to be. Tsu’tey knew from experience that their palm would be calloused, their fingers short but strong. 

He barely spared his younger self a second glance as he slowly approached. Eyes flickering from their outstretched hand to their sure expression and the war paint adorning their determined little face. Slowly, he raised his hand to grasp their’s. The size difference was comical, but somehow, it worked for them, like it always had. 

<“You wish to See, do you not?”> They asked him one last time, as if to offer him a chance to back out. Tsu’tey looked at them, really looked at them. Up into the face he had loved and lost. <“I do.”> He admitted.

And for a moment, nothing happened as the world seemed to have lulled to a halt as he spoke. His younger self frozen with his eyes still trained on the side of the human’s face.

In contrast, his mate moved freely, their little fingers grasping his a little tighter. <”Good.”> They praised him, then they changed. 

Before Tsu’tey’s eyes, his not mate grew into their recom body. Startled, he tried to retract his hand, but their grasp was firm. Before his eyes, they towered over him, still dressed in the military attire of their counterpart, which had grown and shifted to accommodate their larger body. The exomask had disappeared, but the yellow war paint remained. Beneath Tsu’tey’s palm, their callouses had disappeared and their skin was now soft and smooth, as if this body had not yet spent enough time handling a weapon to have need of them. 

For some reason, here, in this setting, with the Tree as their witness, and the clan frozen in time, Tsu’tey felt like the recom’s presence was familiar, as if he had sensed it before. But the feeling was dream-like and distant. Small and jumpy as a small animal. Unwilling for him to catch the thought to properly understand it.

As if hearing his thoughts, the recom’s lips quirked upwards into a knowing smile. <”Now you’re catching on.”> They mused.

<”What now?”> Tsu’tey demanded, his patience beginning to wane.

<”Now, you will See.”> <”You keep saying that.”> Tsu’tey reprimanded, <”but you do not deliver.”> They smiled. <”So impatient. Come along, Olo’eyktan.”>

They pulled lightly on his arm, causing him to stumble forward and put a foot up on one of the lower roots to keep his footing. Tsu’tey glared up at them and they chuckled lightly, tugging again so that Tsu’tey was forced to step properly up onto the throne. From there he was led to the summit, where the Tree itself poked through the dirt and arched overhead.  

<”Where are you leading me?”>

At first, there was no response as he was led around the circumference of the Tree and pulled out of sight of the rest of the camp. Then the recom paused before a metal door that should not have been part of the Tree. Tsu’tey’s eyes narrowed at the sight of it, having seen something familiar attached to the human compounds. 

<”Go through here.”> 

The recom no longer sounded like Tsu’tey’s mate, and it startled him. The voice that spoke to him could only have been described as naturally powerful; as effortlessly knowing. It was neither male nor female; old nor young. It just was. And somehow, it made sense.

<”Search through the ghosts of your past and find your other half.”> The voice instructed, <”each doorway is a chance. Be thorough and open, only then will you See.”> <”Thank you.”> Tsu’tey breathed as the being dropped his hand and stepped back. They did not turn to face him as Tsu’tey reached for the door that only came up to his midriff. And somehow, he knew they no longer carried the face of his mate upon their alien features. If the being looked at him now, he knew he would not recognise who his eyes flickered up to meet the gaze of.

<”Make me proud.”> Prompted the voice, and Tsu’tey could do little but obey as he opened the door and slithered through.

>_<

He emerged into a corridor of Hell’s Gate, as it was before the humans had left. The tight, greyscale space was flooded with Sky People, all dressed in contrasting uniforms with places to be and determination in their strides. 

Immediately, his gaze was drawn to the living ghost of Colonel Quaritch, who commanded a path through the teeming crowd with nothing but his presence. The people heading in the opposite direction to him split around his muscular figure like river water would pass around a mossy rock. The colonel was flanked by two people. One Tsu’tey did not recognise, but one he did.

Here, his mate was human again, dressed in the military attire they wore into the Battle for The Tree of Souls, but with no yellow war paint. They carried a tablet, and easily kept pace with the colonel’s swift strides whilst remaining a step or two behind. The image of a good soldier.

Tsu’tey was not fooled however. He noticed the dangerous glint in his mate’s eye. The smooth way they shifted files around, flicking a couple into the digital bin and others being uploaded to an external network. Normally, Tsu’tey would not know hide nor hair of the Sky People’s complex internet, but the bond must have filtered some of the words over, because somehow, he knew the functions of each button that was pressed as well as the names of everything that was around him. 

What he could not place however, was the origin of the undercurrent of energy in the air. It was electrical in nature, and yet could not be traced back to the flickering lights or the electricity pulsing through hidden wires. It was subtle, but powerful. Boiling hotter and hotter like a forest fire that was rapidly getting out of control.

His eyes flickered to his mate’s face as they passed him by, and then it clicked. He noticed the narrowing of their brows as they glared holes into the back of the colonel’s head. He saw the tightening of their grasp on the tablet, the way the metal and glass groaned in protest. Their rage, he realised, had tainted the memory somehow. Had shifted the very air into something tense and dangerous.

“- have the native scuttled off to then, now that their main tree has been blown to shit?” The colonel asked without looking back.

The human walking beside Tsu’tey’s mate responded, all bravado and wonky teeth. “The Well of Souls, sir.” He reported diligently, whilst Tsu’tey found amusement in the way the artificial lighting shone on his hairless scalp.

“Good. Then we can knock out two birds with one stone.” The colonel returned triumphantly, to which the bald one nodded along.

“Excellent idea.” Tsu’tey’s mate replied, although the look on their face suggested it was anything but. “What artillery would we require for such an assault sir?”

The colonel, with the confidence of a man who knew his worth, immediately began listing off numbers and divisions, all of which Tsu’tey’s mate diligently noted down. Judging by the ripple of triumph that passed within the undercurrent of rage, Tsu’tey could tell this information would not remain strictly confidential. 

Fondness flared to life as Tsu’tey gazed upon them like this. So confident and full of life. How utterly in their element they were. He could vaguely place the date of the memory, solely based on the Omaticayan style necklace he saw peering out of the collar of their shirt. A begrudging gift from his younger self in an attempt to bridge the gap and form a truce. He now wore that same necklace beneath his wrist guard.

With a lopsided smile, Tsu’tey recalled why exactly he was here in the first place. His task was to pull the recom out of the past and out of their head. In passing back home, he had heard the most common method in Tsaheylu for this was to grab their hand and pull. And with little other ideas to try out, Tsu’tey did.

His phantom form had to stoop to weave around the light fixtures of the tight corridor, but with his long legs, it was effortless to catch up with the trio who had just walked past him. For some reason, the other Sky People in the corridor automatically parted and wove around him as he moved, leaving his path to his goal unobstructed. Tsu’tey almost grinned with how straight forward this was becoming, Neytiri had made it seem like it was going to be harder than this.

And with that in mind, and the distance closing, he reached forward for his mate’s hand. Unsurprisingly, it was tiny compared to his, but warm and solid. Shocked, the human started, leaping to the side as their head whipped up to find the source of the touch. 

Their eyes locked with Tsu’tey’s, widened, and then promptly vanished. There was no flicker of the light. Nor was there a dramatic breeze that whisked their particles away. It was simply a case of one moment they were there, and the next, it were as if they had never existed in the first place.

Tsu’tey triumphant grin melted into an open mouth gasp of horror. 

Up ahead, the colonel kept striding along as the anger tainting the air promptly dissipated, leaving behind an anxiety so thick that it made Tsu’tey feel physically sick. To the man’s right, walked the bald one, now sporting a tablet and diligently tapping away on it. Neither so much as glanced backwards.

The memory blurred then, drawing Tsu’tey’s attention to another door which was somehow still in focus. Upon first glance, it appeared identical to the one that had let him into the corridor, but Tsu’tey knew it was warped somehow and wouldn’t lead into another room in Hell’s Gate.

>_<

The second door opened out into the belly of HomeTree. The main fire roared in its pit as the clan assembled in the back chamber before Eytukan. Hesitantly, Tsu’tey moved further into the chamber, emotion clogging his chest as nostalgia crept up on him. 

His attention was immediately captured by the commotion occuring by the spiral staircase. Unnoticed by his fellow clan members, Tsu’tey wove through the assembled clan, surprised to find Jake stood near the front adjacent to a distinctly human shape decked out in camo gear and an exomask.

<”And this one can be trusted, Jake-Sully?”> Mo’at asked carefully, prowling around the human, who stood dutifully before her, all neutral mask and motionless ears. Her tail swayed in apprehension, 

<”Yes.”> Jake insisted, the cummerbund wrapped around his waist signalling that this memory was a few weeks before HomeTree’s destruction. When Eytukan was still Olo’eyktan and the chemistry between Jake and Neytiri was edging towards undoubtable. Vaguely, Tsu’tey even saw himself tucked away on Eytukan’s right, bow in hand and his eyes narrowed in mistrust.

Eytukan nodded in acknowledgement of Jake’s claim before glancing to his mate who continued to circle the soldier.

“What are you called?” She asked in heavily accented English.

At the direct address, the human glanced up. In a clear, respectful tone, they gave the Tsahik their name. Mo’at nodded. “And why do you come to us?” “I seek knowledge for myself.” They told her simply. “The Sky People wreak unnecessary destruction, on both your clan and your home. In exchange for your help, I offer information which you can use to stop them.” The Tsahik hummed thoughtfully. “And what exactly is it exactly, you seek in return? We have learnt that your people do not offer kindness without a price.” Jake shifted uncertainly on his feet, eyes casually glancing down to his friend before he snapped them away to look anywhere else. In contrast, the human remained unphased.

“I want to learn how to fire one of your bows.” They told her, their tone leaving little room for mockery. 

Mo’at tilted her head in amusement. “Why?” “All skills are valuable for surviving, even more so on Pandora.” Mo’at nodded thoughtfully at this, a subtle smile creeping onto her otherwise schooled expression. Tsu’tey could tell from the playful prick of her ears that the human had unknowingly pleased her. With her mind made up, Mo’at turned to her mate who had not yet looked away from her. And with a sharp nod, Eytukan lost some of his stiffness. 

“Provided that your information is sound,” Eytukan explained firmly, his English rustier than Mo’at but clear enough in Tsu’tey’s opinion. “We shall instruct you in our ways.”

The human dipped their head in thanks, almost too quickly for Tsu’tey to notice the genuine smile creeping onto their features.

The scene warped suddenly as it remade itself, causing Tsu’tey to lurch on his feet. He blinked and found himself no longer in HomeTree’s main chamber, but instead standing in Mo’at’s current tent that sat nestled in the protective hold of High Camp’s mountain cavern.

He held his knife in both of his hands, the blade raised high above his head as if he were planning to bring it down with all of his might. At his feet knelt the body of a recom, shivering in fright with their head bowed respectfully. 

“What purpose do you serve? Why have you returned to haunt me?” His own voice spat even though Tsu’tey’s lips hadn’t moved to form the words. “WHY?!”

The recom flinched. Slowly, they lifted their head, peering up at him sheepishly through glittering lashes. Tear tracks marked the apples of their cheeks, causing them to shine too in the jumping flames of Mo’at’s fire.

“I couldn’t stay there.” The recom explained shakily, but all Tsu’tey heard was that the Sky People had thrown out their own, demonic puppet. Had deemed this monstrosity as useless as the rest of their hideous creations. The recom gathered itself and made its voice stronger as it repeated, “I couldn’t stay there, with them. I wanted to come home-” “THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME!” Tsu’tey’s voice that didn’t come from him shrieked, sounding wrecked with grief even to his own ears. “LEAVE!” He commanded, and the recom curled in tighter on itself, a shadow of its former identity. It made no move to get up.

“I’m sorry.” The recom whimpered.

Tsu’tey felt his muscles bunch, the knife rising just a fraction higher like it would before he delivered a lethal blow. Preparing now to bring it down on the kneeling recom’s head. 

Across the fire, Mo’at stood motionless, her expression unreadable as she simply watched. Unlike what had actually happened, she did not pace or attempt to discourage him. She simply watched. Ominous and silent. 

Unlike the scene before, Tsu’tey did not sense rage in the air. Instead, what truly caught his attention was the deep rooted despair that tinted this memory. The heavy, suffocating feeling of grief and regret. It made his arms shake with the effort to keep the knife aloft, and his heart physically hurt with how harshly hope was twisting and turning like a thing trapped, within the heavy folds of panic. 

“I’m sorry.” The recom repented, and Tsu’tey felt the guilt settle like a cloak on his shoulders, making his chest heavy and his throat tight enough that the muscles strangled any words of comfort he attempted to offer.

I’m sorry.

The recom whispered again in English, but somehow, Tsu’tey knew their lips were not moving as his hadn’t. Instead, the words felt like they had been spoken directly into his mind as one would send and receive words through Tsaheylu. 

The words now were spoken barely above a whisper, almost unrecognisable in their quietness. They were spoken again, just as softly, if not a little more desperately. Then again. And again. Faster and faster. Louder and louder until it felt like the desperate begging was banging around inside Tsu’tey’s skull. Desperately thrashing, searching for relief, but trapped regardless in an eternal purgatory. Deafening him with their desperation.

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.

He scrunched his eyes closed at the sheer volume. Simultaneously trying to stave off some of the dizziness from the speech in which each desperate word was being uttered, until they bled together. New ones piled onto the last before they had even finished being uttered.

I’m sorry

Their voice shook with remorse, and Tsu’tey knew they meant it with every fibre of their new body. He knew they regretted ever turning up on his doorstep. He could feel it. Could taste the regret on his tongue, sharp as the tang of yovo juice.

I’m sorry I’m sorry

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.I’msorRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRY!I’MSOR-

Abruptly, it stopped. 

Everything just stopped.

Slowly, Tsu’tey peeled his eyes open. His hands felt sticky, similar to how they felt after he’d just skinned and prepared an animal for the clan meal. 

The recom swayed on their knees, staring at the ground. Tsu’tey shifted on his feet, they did not flinch. Nor did they look up. He swallowed audibly, only the crackle of the fire punctuated the silence as he waited. Knowing, deep down, that something was about to happen. 

Predictably, it did.

Mo’at, who had been silent up until that point, tutted once, the simple sound wreaking of disappointment. Tsu’tey glanced at her, but she only had eyes for the recom. The recom, who was slowly tipping to the side, like an old tree bowing against a strong wind, its ancient roots losing the strength to hold it up any longer. Further and further until they collapsed onto their side and sprawled out across the floor. There, they gurgled weakly, but said nothing more.

Distantly, Tsu’tey heard his knife collide with the floor mats, spraying red in its wake. His hands shook at his sides, warm and sticky. He didn’t have to look to know they were streaked with blood.

Before his eyes, the recom had reverted back to its human form. To the body Tsu’tey had buried in the Well of Souls with his son strapped to his back, catching up on some desperately needed sleep. As he stared down into big, yellow eyes, all he could see were the glassy, lifeless eyes of his mate. His other half who had been ripped from him too soon. 

The similarities of that memory with this image lying dying before him now, spurred him into action. He ignored the blood, ignored the uncomfortably steady gaze of Mo’at, and dropped to his knees beside the body. Panic slid up his throat like bile, causing his hands to shake as he reached for the recom. His fingers outstretched for their limp hand in search of a pulse.

And as before, the moment his skin made contact, they disappeared. 

Only the blood remained on the rug.

>_<

When he felt well enough to move, he stumbled through a new door that appeared to him the moment they disappeared.

This time, he emerged into the forest. Rain soaked his braids in seconds as Tsu’tey glanced aimlessly around the tightly packed trees that glowed in the gloom brought on by a sudden storm.

Somehow, through the dense foliage, he noticed a squad of recom soldiers, each holding a na’vi child hostage.

“It protected the children.” Neytiri had told him, back at High Camp, and now, it seemed Tsu’tey would bear witness to the evidence behind such a claim.

In his peripheral, Tsu’tey watched the unmistakable silhouette of Jake picking his way through the undergrowth, his axe glinting faintly. Movement in the treetops drew the hunter’s attention to Neytiri sticking close to the trunk of a sturdy tree, seamlessly blending in with it as she rounded the circumference. He watched her take a breath, pull back her bow string, and fire. Following the path of the arrow, Tsu’tey witnessed it find its mark and send the recom squad into a frenzy. 

Easily, he located his mate, who had Lo’ak by the kuru. Both watched the chaos as the other soldiers scrambled for cover. Neytiri notched another arrow, and the gunfire began retaliating. 

As the fight began to gain heat, the recom released Lo’ak and smoothly stepped back into the undergrowth. He watched them wave him away and slip further into the shadows, which Lo’ak promptly took advantage of to find Tuk and urge her away from the fight.

Spider tearing past Tsu’tey’s hiding spot, promptly pulled the hunter’s gaze from the recom. His son, who was still cuffed, had Kiri by the arm and was dragging her from the scene. Together, they kept each other on their feet as they found a sloping tree trunk and hauled themselves up off of the forest floor.

The scene shifted with them, and Tsu’tey found himself standing motionless on a wide branch, looming behind his niece who was kneeling over the edge, yelling down to Spider. Stepping closer, Tsu’tey followed her panicked gaze to find his mate hauling Spider up into their arms. 

Soaked and exhausted, the kid held onto whatever part of them he could get ahold of as they fought to hold him and get their shoes off. Somehow, they did it though, and within seconds they were messily trying to scale the hillside. Within seconds, the recom was breathing hard, cursing and wincing as they tried to grasp onto unstable branches and loose plants. 

They were barely within reach, but Kiri didn’t care as she leaned dangerously forward, bound arms outstretched to lend a hand. Her arms were just a fraction too short. 

Far below, torches flashed as the rest of the squad swept the undergrowth. It would only be a matter of glancing up to find their target.

Stupidly, Tsu’tey dropped to his knees beside his niece and leant across the distance. With ease, he caught one of the recom’s wrists and heaved hard. They slid up the slope, grabbing uselessly at anything within reach. They were almost there.

And then they vanished.

Without warning, Spider plummeted down through the trees with a terrified shriek, straight into the waiting arms of Miles Quaritch.

>_<

Another corridor. Another puppet. Another unavoidable similarity.

>_<

Another door, this time leading to an unfamiliar cave, which led to another phantom that disappeared under Tsu’tey’s desperate touch. 

>_<

Another door. Another camp long forgotten by the world and only loved by memory. Another shadow of the past. Over and over again.

Last Chapter <- Part 3 -> Next Chapter

[eywamygoddesswrites]

hi!! can i request for lo'ak x fem!omaticaya reader where they babysit tuk and lo'ak is just falling harder for her everytime? tysm 🥹❣️

lo'ak sully x fem!reader

pairing: lo'ak sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

tags: TUK WING GIRL LET'S GOOOOOO---- also lo'ak is such a simp it's tooth rottening--

warnings: nooone~

requested: yes/no

word count: 444 (ANGEL NUMBER LET'S GO~!!!)

ever since the two were born, they had been stuck together to their hips. everywhere one went, the other followed. it was like their little thing together until little tuk came along. ever since then, it was their little trio.

if the rest of their older siblings were busy and their parents were busy, lo’ak and y/n would babysit tuk. it’s not like tuk didn’t like it. in fact, it was a good day that the three get to hang out! she loved y/n ever since and she just wished that her older brother grows the balls to make y/n her sister already.

one of tuk and y/n’s favorite things to do when y/n babysits was weaving flower crowns. it was something y/n’s mother taught her when she was little and teaching tuk was making y/n reminisce about that beautiful memory. her mom is still alive, it’s just that she and her dad were very busy like tuk and lo’ak’s parents.

lo’ak, on the other hand, oh eywa, he wished he had the courage to ask y/n out. it’s been a long time coming but he just couldn’t find that extra push to go ‘hey y/n! uhh, just quickly, do you wanna go out with me?’ and yet here he was, watching his two favorite girls (don’t tell kiri—) making flower crowns without a care in the world.

the way y/n smiles at tuk as she skillfully weaved the second flower crown was just making him fall deeper and deeper in love with the na’vi. her voice was like heaven on earth. he wish he could just keep her in his arms and whisper in her ears how she helped him live his life despite it bitch slapping him ahemjakeahemahemahem.

he lays his masculinity on the altar of her maidenhood. that’s how much he’s in love with her. he would do anything and everything to call her his.

but for now, he’s more than content with watching y/n watch over tuk.

wait, she just handed him the flower crown. “that’s for you! tuk said she wanted us to match so i made another one.” lo’ak’s eyes widen so that they could just make his eye balls pop out of its socket. tuk gave a playful smirk to her brother but acts all innocent when y/n turned to her.

eywa, his little sister is such a great wing girl.

y/n adjusts the crown on his head and brushed some of his hair away from his face. this woman will be the death of him but even that sounds lovely to his ears.

taglist: @nyotamalfoy @hanhanartz @murderousmushroom @myvath

[theflowerofpandora]

Herwì Syulang: Chapter 5

Neteyam Sully X Fem Na’vi!OC

Masterlist

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Quaritch is back... 5 years after the battle between the Sky People and the Sully Family alongside the Metikayina Clan, the exact battle where Neteyam was almost taken by Eywa. Seeking revenge yet again on Jake Sully, Quaritch massacres an entire Na’vi Clan in the Snow Mountains of Pandora - sparing one young Na’vi girl’s life to send the great Toruk Makto a message.

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Fighting, Blood

Author’s Note: OOOOOOH PLOT TWIST AHEAD!! How are you guys finding this fit so far? feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

“Are you kidding me?” Kiri let out a snort at Herwìva’s denial. The snow Na’Vi was clearly not going to get past the mysterious girl who seemingly knew all. Ever since Herwìva had built up a good friendship with the eldest Sully daughter, it was as if she could see right through her icy skin with her large green eyes.

Herwìva huffed, not liking the feeling of being so exposed around despite knowing that Kiri was more than trustworthy. “There is nothing going on with your brother, Kiri.” Her cool hands felt along the blades of grass beneath her before looking at the older girl sitting beside her in the forest.

Tuk watched the two in anticipation, a hand clasped over her blue lips as she attempted to hold back a giggle, continuing to watch the scene unfold. Even the youngest Sully could see the changes in her oldest brother.

“So you’re telling me that when you and Neteyam came back with the tun syulang (red flower) for grandmother last week, absolutely nothing had happened to make you both suddenly act so chummy and affectionate with each other?” Kiri pressed; her brows raised teasingly.

“Come on, Wìva. You can tell us!” Tuk leaned in, resting her head on her bent knees as she curled her arms over her legs with a grin on her face.

“There is nothing to tell.” Herwìva laughed the sisters off, “he was just the first person to find me in the forest and helped me start a new life here. I will always be grateful for that. I care about your brother because he has cared for me. That is all…”

Herwìva was not one to give in to something easily when there was no promise of what the future held. She had learnt that the hard way. Everything could disappear from her grasp within mere minutes and that thought had plagued her ever since the Sky People massacred her village over a month ago. She was not going to give in to the assumptions that the two sister’s were making about her and their eldest brother when she wasn’t even sure of it herself.

It scared her. Growing close to Neteyam scared her. The thought of losing him or any of the friends she had made here scared her. The thought of losing her new home scared her. She resulted in trying to remain neutral and not pursue the deep rooted feelings she began to harbour for the strong, kind-hearted young man.

Yes, she found herself feeling a type of way for the attractive mighty warrior that she had never felt for anyone before and, yes, it seemed to be reciprocated by him. But there was still so much uncertainty that remained between them. She knew that they had established a close and comfortable relationship so far and she was okay with it remaining like that… for now at least. Therefore, she didn’t think there was much to tell. Whatever happened between her and Neteyam would stay between them. It wasn’t like they owed anyone an explanation for their slightly more-than-friendly relationship.

Flopping onto the grass, Kiri laid back becoming one with the flora that surrounded the trio. She hummed in amusement, “if you say so ma ‘eylan (my friend).”

A chuckle escaped Herwìva’s lips as she smiled at the two dark blue Na’Vi. “When, and if there is something to tell in the future, I will tell it.”

“You won’t need to when Eywa tells all first.” Kiri smirked lazily as she gazed up into the branches of the giant trees above.

Tuktirey suddenly shot up to her feet, preventing Herwìva from responding to the snarky comment. The younger girl’s ears were twitching inquisitively, and it startled her causing her blue orbs to widen. “Is everything okay, Tuktuk?”

“Did you guys hear that?” She frowned.

Naturally, Herwìva’s ears perked up as she focused on the sounds of her surroundings. Only the leaves swaying in the light breeze alongside chirps and hums of nearby fauna could be heard within the forest until Kiri opened her mouth again.

“It’s the Great Mother trying to tell us something.” She brushed off her baby sister heartily, moving her arms through the warm air as if she was touching something that could only be seen by her.

Tuk’s frown deepened whilst she crossed her arms in annoyance, tail whipping behind her. “Shut up, Kiri.”

Herwìva tried to hold back a small laugh.

A faint crunch of soil sounded in the distance. “There! There it is, again.” Tuk’s ears went flat against her head and one of her cheeks sunk into her face slightly as she gnawed on the inside of her mouth.

Herwìva pursed her lips at the noise. “I heard it too.”

Groaning, Kiri sat upright looking at the pair expectantly. Another light movement in the distance settled in the air and it soon turned into a repeated sound. It was as if it were footsteps.

Herwìva’s heart sunk, sensing that something was wrong. This was not the footsteps of another Na’Vi and it was certainly not the footsteps of a four or more-legged creature roaming the woods. “Who knows where we are right now?” She asked in a hushed tone as she shifted her position to a crouch with her tail swishing anxiously through the air.

“Only Mum and Dad.” Tuk whispered, a flash of fear behind her eyes.

The trio a flown out on Herwìva and Kiri’s Ikran to a secluded area an hour or so ago after their morning meal as the sisters wanted to show Herwìva around the forest some more as she still wasn’t entirely familiar with it yet. On days where Neteyam had duties to attend to, the sisters would usually - and happily - take the light blue girl under their wing and keep her company with a range of Omatikayan activities.

The noise picked up in pace and Herwìva’s instincts kicked in as her heart began to beat rapidly against her ribcage. “We should go back to the village.”

Kiri’s ears quickly twitched at the oncoming sound, the patter of feet not coming to a slow, and she inhaled deeply. A sense of familiarity and nostalgia washed over her features making Herwìva eye her suspiciously. “What is it Kiri?”

The older girl gulped, frantically looking around. Suddenly becoming overwhelmed and saddened, she was struggling to formulate a sentence. “I- I recogn- it- it sounds like-”

It all happened so quickly. A screamed erupted through the air. A blade was against young Tuktirey’s neck. And a human boy behind her, holding it.

Unable to register what was going on, Kiri froze as she looked at the matured face of the boy she had not seen in 5 years.

Panic and fury consumed Herwìva at the sight of the human behind Tuk, the sharp dagger against her small throat was glinting in the daylight and she didn’t hesitate to reach for the knives strapped to her thighs.

The young girl squealed and struggled against his hold.

This scenario was all to familiar to Herwìva as her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat. She had already lost her own baby sister this way and she would give herself to Eywa before she left it happen to her friend.

The human had long, dirty blonde dreadlocks and was wearing a dirtied loincloth whilst his pale skin was covered in blue paint resembling the stripes on the skin of the Omatikaya people. Bewilderment crossed her features for a second before she was baring her fangs, hissing angrily at him.

Kiri choked out a shocked and heartbroken sob, her voice cracking as she knelt before the human who roughly threatened her sister, locking eyes with him. “Sp- Spider?!”

“Kiri.” He smirked dangerously and Tuk let out a cry, her small body struggling against the human’s own similar sized body.

They know each other? Herwìva growled, more confused than ever and a wave of nausea washed over her whilst her eyes flickered between the human who had Tuktirey’s life in his hands and Kiri who looked sickeningly distraught.

“Spider,” the older sister pleaded, “How are you here? Why are you doing this?”

Whilst the human was more distracted by Kiri, Herwìva did not waste another second before lurching forward in a flash and dragging her knives along the human’s legs, effectively making his legs buckle in pain as he yelled out in shock and loosened his grip on the youngest Sully.

Herwìva grasped Tuk’s shaking arms, pulling her away from Spider in an instant and pushed her over to Kiri to get her out of the human’s reach. She quickly turned her focus back onto the kneeling human and balled her fists up, landing a punch right on the human’s nose whilst his hands were reaching for the fresh wounds on his legs.

He stumbled backwards and groaned, blood oozing from the cuts on his calves and thigh alongside the damage to his face. Loosing balance, he fell onto his back as he tried to swipe at Herwìva with the dagger in his hand – landing a delicate cut which ran along her shoulder and the crook of her neck. She hissed out at the sharp sting it left before slashing at him again, causing more blood to begin oozing from his abdomen.

“Cold, bitch ass skxawng!” He seethed.

Shouting out to the two weeping girls behind her, her expression was filled with rage as she stared down at the boy laying on the ground beneath her. “GO! GET JAKE!”

The human chuckled darkly as he withered in pain under her strong hold. “Yeah, get Daddy!”

Herwìva angrily twisted her knives after pinning the boy’s arms down with her legs and landed two hard blows with the blunt ends of each iced knife to either side of his head. His eyes snapped shut at the contact and soon relaxed after, his body falling slack under her.

“GO NOW!” She screamed, turning to the two sister’s who held onto each other for dear life. Kiri was still choking back sobs in shock whilst Tuk wept into her shoulder before she whistled out for her ikran.

---

“Again.” Jake demanded, not even allowing Neteyam to breathe before swinging his large blue fist at his firstborn son’s face.

The younger man held his palm out flat, defending himself and redirecting his father’s punch to the side.

Grunting, Jake swung his fist again and Neteyam repeated his previous action. “Well done, son. Let’s take five.”

“Thank you, sir.” He panted before wiping the sweat off his forehead with a nearby cloth. He swung it over his shoulder and sat down on a bench where a few other warriors were resting between sparring. Today was hand-to-hand combat training day. A day which Neteyam found tiresome and long and left his body aching unnecessarily for the entire day after. However, he knew it was necessary to stay on top of his combat skills… especially now the Sky People were back.

A light tap on his muscular shoulder, gained Neteyam’s attention and took him away from his train of thoughts. Zi’awmey stood in front of him with a grin

5. He was one of the best warriors within the clan and he was just a couple of years older than Neteyam. The two young men trained together often usually hung out together with a group of other warrior’s around their ages.

“Hey Zi’awmey.” Neteyam greeted the older boy with a nod before sipping on a smooth wooden cup filled with water.

“Neteyam.” He nodded back, taking a seat beside the younger boy. “How are you, bro? How’s miss snow doing?”

He was also known for being a huge ladies’ man. Neteyam refrained from rolling his eyes at the last question knowing that the warrior’s intent was far from wholesome. Ever since Herwìva arrived in the village she had many eyes watching her and it was something that Neteyam found unsettling. A pair of the many eyes belonging to Zi’awmey.

“All good, thanks Zi.” Neteyam forced a smile. “Herwìva’s good too. She’s out with Kiri and Tuk today.”

The older warrior tilted his head in confusion, diverting his eyes towards the other side of the hut where the Olo’eyktan stood – a mix of rage and concern evident on his face as he listened to his two distressed daughters. “Then why isn’t she with them right now?”

“What do you mean?” Neteyam’s forehead creased, following the warriors gaze over to his father and sisters. He frowned upon noticing the absence of the person he woke up thinking about every day since meeting her. Where was Herwìva?

---

“I can’t believe you left her alone with him!” Neteyam seethed through his Radiocoms which was wrapped around his neck as he sped through the forest on his Pa’li - his Father and a group of warriors hot on his tail. His fingers pressed against the small button as he continued speaking, “if she’s hurt or they took her I will be so fucking angry at you, Kiri.”

“Relax, big brother.” A sniffle was heard through the small speaker on the device hanging around his neck. “Wìva is strong and skilled, she can handle it. Spider was alone and she had knocked him out when we left.”

It wasn’t that he thought Herwìva couldn’t handle it. He knew that she was more than capable of dealing with anything. But it was the thought of Spider being alone with her and inflicting any harm on her. And what if he takes her back to Quaritch and the other Sky People or they were following Spider and waiting for a perfect opportunity to attack after him?

He let out a frustrated groan, heartbeat pounding in his chest.

Jake soon caught up to him after sensing his anguish, both Direhorses speeding beside each other, dipping and swerving between the thousands of tree trunks. “It will be okay, son. We’ll find her.”

Neteyam only nodded at his father’s words before speeding ahead, following the directions which Kiri had given them. He was worried far more than what his mind could even comprehend. Why was Spider back? Why did he try to kill Tuktirey? Were the Sky People close to finding the village? Would they have to evacuate and relocate again? Was Herwìva safe? Was she hurt? Has she been taken as hostage? Were they going to kill her now she had delivered Quaritch’s message to his father?

Guilt bloomed within him. He had promised to keep Herwìva safe since she arrived in Omatikaya and he was already failing. Anxieties began to bubble inside his stomach as his Father called out for the group to halt and dismount their creatures.

Sliding off his Pa’li and breaking tsaheylu, Neteyam’s feet landed in the soil on the ground alongside the rest of the group. He stalked over to them all with a cold, hard stare and looked at his father for permission to speak. A nod was received.

“You all know what to do and how to tackle this, yes?” Neteyam began, a look of determination on his features as he glanced at the group of warriors who all nodded deeply in response. “Zi? Run down the plan.”

Zi’awmey stepped forwards, bowing in front of the current and future Olo’eyktan’s. “Restrain the human and take him to the base on the East side, far from the village. If there are more Sky People, we take a slower approach… surround and attack. Ensure Herwìva’s safety and bring her back to Omatikaya. We wait for Toruk Makto’s orders.”

---

Her body was shaking. Back leaning against the bark of a tree as she watched the human boy lay unconscious on the ground whilst she struggled to breathe. Pulling her legs into her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped that when she next opened them she would be at home sitting in her icy alcove high up in the mountains and crafting ice sculptures with Astríx.

Anxiety and traumatic memories consumed Herwìva no matter how hard she tried to fight them off with positive ones. She was rocking back and forth mumbling prayers to her family, clan and Eywa. Her eyes remained shut, even upon hearing a call of her name multiple times as footsteps approached the green clearing.

Many voices filled her ears, but she only registered how muffled it sounded. All she could hear clearly was the voices from her past echoing around in her head. It was if she was a hollow shell, unable to acknowledge her surroundings.

“Miss snow?” She refused to open her eyes as a large hand clasped her arm. “I’m going to pick you up okay?”

There was only one person who called her that. An Omatikaya warrior who she had met a handful of times over the past few weeks. She simply nodded. Not wanting to witness the unfamiliar surroundings and human boy passed out on the floor again. She ignored the pain that seeped along her neck and shoulder as she was carried.

Neteyam watched Herwìva from a distance as Zi’awmey wrapped his arms around her, his hands going under her knees and around her back to lift her from the ground. Neteyam’s own hands were currently grasped around the passed out human boy he was once friends with many years ago whilst two other warriors bound and restrained him with thick ropes. He wanted nothing more than to drop Spider back onto the ground and take Herwìva out of Zi’awmey’s arms and bring her into his own embrace instead. He wanted to tell her how sorry he is to have let her stray so far from the village without him, thank her for saving his sisters and whisper soothing words into her cool, pale blue ears.

“Neteyam?” His ears shot up in surprise at the whimper of his name off Herwìva’s pink, quivering lips. She was still being tightly held by Zi and refusing to open her eyes. “Is he here?”

Zi’awmey stilled and swallowed before begrudgingly answering. “Yes, he is.”

Neteyam quickly called another warrior over to take his place, allowing him to approach the Na’Vi who was holding the girl he had promised to proctect.

“He’s here,” Zi began loosening his grip on the traumatised girl. “I’m going to set you down, he’s right in front of you, okay?”

Her legs stiffened as her feet hit the grass and she sniffled. “Thank you, Zi.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.” The warrior breathed out, earning a slight glare from the Olo’eyktan-in-training causing him to reluctantly walk off.

“Ne- Neteyam?” Herwìva’s voice cracked and Neteyam’s heart broke at the sound.

“Mawey (calm). I’m here ma sevin herwì syulang (my pretty snow flower), mawey.” He spoke softly, lifting his hands up to the panicking girl’s face to gently caress it.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slowly opened her eyes again, grateful to be greeted with the sight of him. His pupils were wide with perturbation and lips parted in sadness.

“You are hurt.” He stated with a frown, eyes flickering over the long gash from the nape of her neck down to her shoulder.

“It’s oka-”

“No, it is not.” He cut her off, concern laced in his tone and he hesitantly released her cool, soft face from the warmth of his hands. “You flew here on Näfol, yes?”

She responded,frowning from the loss of his touch and slightly confused as to why he was asking. “I did.”

“Dad!” Neteyam suddenly called out and looked behind him, “Herwìva is injured. I’m going to take her back to the village.”

“Okay,” Jake began with worry shining through his eyes. “Make sure you’re both ready for a meeting and debrief about this after eclipse.”

Neteyam got Herwìva to call for Näfol, the stunning banshee landing beside them in an instant. He craned his neck down to his rider, observing her wounds and letting out a low growl before softly nuzzling his nose into her stomach. Her features softened at the contact, gently rubbing the creature’s head at his attempt to comfort her.

Herwìva’s bond with Näfol was strong and unusual compared to the average Na’Vi and Ikran connections. Neteyam knew this. It wasn’t common for a rider to be able to tame and ride their banshee without making tsaheylu. But this was extremely convenient for times like now, when Herwìva was drained and injured – unable to focus on telepathically connecting with Näfol and order him flight directions.

“To Omatikaya Kelutral, rutxe ma kalin ‘eylan (please my sweet friend).” She spoke, hands gracefully moving along the creature’s neck. He clicked his tongue in response before lowering himself to the ground, allowing Herwìva and Neteyam to mount him before taking off into the air above the forest trees.

Neteyam sat behind Herwìva, her body tiredly slumping into his. He held onto her waist tightly, the coolness of her legs pressed against his warms ones as she held onto the handle of the harness on Näfol’s back.

Not a word was spoken between the pair as they rode back to the village. Neteyam could sense Herwìva’s exhaustion and knew better than to pressure her to speak or lecture her for tackling Spider alone.

It wasn’t much longer until they reached hometree and soon found themselves in the Tsahìk’s alcove. Neteyam had stayed beside Herwìva’s side the whole time his grandmother was tending to her wound.

She advised that a day’s rest and frequently applied salve was needed for the open cut to heal and close quickly to which Neteyam nodded gratefully and Herwìva thanked the elder woman.

“Take care of her, Neteyam.” She smiled kindly before slipping out of the alcove to Eywa knows where, leaving the two young Na’Vi alone.

Turning to face Herwìva, Neteyam carefully took her hand in his. “I’m sor-”

“No,” She cut him off and squeezed his hand to emphasise her point before continuing. “Don’t you dare try and take responsibility for this. It’s not your fault and it is out of your control. None of us could have known that the human would have been there.”

A sigh escaped his plump blue lips, his spare hand finding it’s way to her slim waist and she melted under his delicate but firm touch. “I cannot thank you enough for saving my baby sister.”

The corners of her lips twitched up. “You do not need to thank me for that. I would never want you of your family to suffer a loss like that. I owe you all so much for giving me a new home so the least I can do is help protect you all.”

Neteyam’s gaze eased lovingly as he listened to Herwìva’s words. “Herwìva…”

“Neteyam…” She countered teasingly, placing her hands on top of his broad shoulders with her fingers grazing the back of his neck.

“I want to give you a radiocom, we’ll take to my Dad later about it but I want you to be able to contact me when we’re not together so I can follow through with my promise to keep you safe. Great Mother forbid if something like today ever happens again, I want you to call me and I will be there for you.”

She glanced at the communicative accessory around his neck, fingers reaching to fiddle with it. Her icy fingers tracing along it and brushing his warm skin, sending a shiver through him.

“Okay, if that’s what you think is best mighty warrior.”

He lightly rolled his eyes, pulling her closer to him. Her chest was flush against his muscular abdomen, and she could feel the beat of his heart. “The mighty warrior does think it to be best.”

---

TAGLIST: @n3t3y4msm4t3​ @chantelle-mh @bookishaficionado @pinkpantheris @megsthings @tritan-livs @liyahsocorro @neytirisoneanxonly @bigmama123 @adaiasafira

[lostdreamsatmidnight]

last words of a shooting star 

i. lo’ak, last words of a shooting star

pairings: none

word count: 2392

tags: gun violence, blood, major character death

note: posted to ao3 

            ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Lo'ak never really meant for things to get this out of hand.

Majority of the times Lo'ak has gotten up to no good, things just seem to get carried away from him and he always ends up neck deep in trouble. It's no help that his siblings tend to get mixed up in it too because they are almost always trailing after him.

Lo'ak was a free spirit, going where the wind took him even if it meant going head-first into danger. He liked to believe he had a good head on his shoulders, and was capable enough to get himself out of sticky situations. After all, he's escaped every near-death situation so far unscathed. 

He wanted to show his father that he too, could be a strong and reliable warrior just like him.

His entire family – maybe except for Tuk, because she, too, likes to get up to no good just like her big brother – had thought otherwise of him.

Kiri saw him a skxawng but was happy enough to go after him if Spider was involved; which he always was.

Neteyam was the golden child who did no wrong and did everything perfectly. Always mastered the ways of the Omaticaya with ease with his father's golden stamp of approval. Neteyam, the olo'eyktan-in-training who always took it upon himself to try and keep his reckless brother out of trouble – only to get sucked into the brunt end of his father's scolding.

His mother, Neytiri, saw him as a rebellious child who couldn't for once, do as he was told. She held more patience than her mate did, but somehow Lo'ak knew a shortcut to using it all up.

And Jake, his father, the Toruk Makto, who never saw him. Who told Lo'ak he brought shame to their family. Who screamed at Lo'ak for once again jeopardizing their stay with the Metkayina for bonding with the outcast, with Payakan.

Yet Payakan was the one who gave them the opening to retaliate against the Sky People.

Bound to the railing, Lo'ak raised his foot and pressed the flat of it against the railing, pulling on his orange bindings in an effort to break it. Whatever it was made of was stronger than Lo'ak, unfortunately. He glanced to his side and saw Tsireya shielding Tuk from the gunfire happening behind them. Payakan had slipped off the ship already, the avatars taking off on their ikrans to fight against his parents and the Metkayina.

Lo'ak pulled on his bindings once more and let out a grunt of frustration. “We need to find a way out of these before those avatars come back!”

“They took our knives!” Tsireya exasperated, looking over her shoulder to survey the fight. “The humans are retreating to smaller boats. We're stuck here!”

Lo'ak didn't get a chance to reply as they were suddenly yanked forward as the ship surged forward, propellers picking up a speed far too fast for their liking. The force of the sudden movement knocked them to the floor – yet before they could stand, the ship raced towards a sea stump and ran over it. The sea stump tore through the hull and sent the trio floating upwards in the air momentarily, before the ship passed over the sea stump and slammed back down onto open water. 

Lo'ak let out a grunt of pain as the side of his hip and leg slammed against the metal flooring, sending shockwaves of pain up his spine.

“Fuck – Tuk, Tsireya! You guys okay?” Lo'ak questioned as he moved to his feet. Tuk whined in pain as she slowly stood, putting her weight on her unaffected leg.

“I'm ok,” Tuk said, pulling against her restraints. 

“What was that?” Tsireya questioned. She took a little longer to stand, pain written across her delicate features.

“I don't know,” Lo'ak said, looking over his shoulder to see if anybody was around. “But if I had to guess, it was Spider.”

“Spider?” Tsireya pronounced the word oddly, unsure of the human word.

Lo'ak faced in Tsireya's direction as he heard a loud splash, eyes widening at the sight of Neteyam standing behind her. Tuk exclaimed in glee at the sight of her eldest brother, knife in hand. 

“Hey, baby brother!” Neteyam said as he cut Tsireya free, a grin encompassing his features. “Need some help?”

Lo'ak huffed in disbelief. “Come on, cut us loose!”

Neteyam cut Tuk's bindings and pushed her behind him, turning to face Tsireya briefly. “Get Tuk out of here. Go!”

Tsireya and Tuk did not hesitate to jump over the railing and into the waters below.

“Bro, hurry up!”

Neteyam turned to face his brother and grinned once more. “Who's the mighty warrior?” He cut Lo'ak loose. “Come on, say it!” Neteyam patted his brother's head affectionately.

Lo'ak rolled his eyes before turning around and grabbing the gun closest to him. Neteyam protested.

“They've got Spider. We have to go get him,” Lo'ak stated and Neteyam approached him, fully ready to grab the youngest Sully boy and throw him overboard. “Come on bro, we can't leave him!”

Neteyam grit his teeth and hissed – but Lo’ak knew his brother. Lo’ak was already turning around, gun in hand, ready to dive head-first into unknown territory to save his best friend. Neteyam, the ever-loving protector, caved and chased after Lo’ak. 

Lo’ak felt his brother grip his bicep before he could go any farther. He was ready to tell his brother off again, that he couldn’t stop him from saving Spider. 

“We need to be cautious about this. Stay high up, find Spider, get him and us out. We save him and get out, understand?” Neteyam said, grip tightening until Lo’ak nodded and shook him off. “Do not use the gun. It will draw attention to us.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, pulling the strap of the gun over his head and maneuvering the gun to rest upon his back. Neteyam gave him a once over before leading the way.

                                                        -

It was too easy, really.

The humans were too focused on evacuating their sinking ship to even bother looking up. Lo’ak and Neteyam were in their element, having been trained to have light feet and move in silence. It was like they were tracking prey; needing to be careful of where the wind took your scent and to be wary of the ground beneath your feet. Hours upon hours of training their mother gave them was giving them the upper hand against the humans.

Spider, Eywa bless his soul, made it increasingly easier with his tirade of insults against the humans ricocheting off the walls. 

Lo’ak and Neteyam hovered over the walkway until the group of humans escorting Spider were right under them. Then, they struck.

Neteyam dropped down first and sent a human flying over the railing, pushing another against the wall with a sickening crack. Lo’ak followed immediately after, swinging the butt of his gun at one of the humans and rendering them unconscious. Spider ripped the mask off of one of the humans and socked him in the face.

The last remaining human raised his gun towards the trio, but Lo’ak was faster as he aimed the gun at the human and pulled the trigger.

The kickback of the gun was something Lo’ak wasn’t expecting – nor was the rate of the bullets flying out. Needless to say, the human dropped dead in a matter of seconds.

Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by his bicep and pulled him back. “Come on!”

“Thanks for saving me,” Spider said, panting slightly in exertion. He turned suddenly, the Sully brothers following his gaze to see one of the avatars emerging from the other side of the moon pool. 

Lo’ak moved to aim his gun at the avatar at the same time the avatar noticed them and raised his gun. Neteyam pulled Lo’ak and Spider back and pushed them to cover, bullets raining after them.

“Give me that!” Neteyam commanded as he tore the gun from Lo’ak’s grip. He pointed the gun over their hide and pulled the trigger, aiming for the avatar shooting at them. “Go, go, go!”

Spider and Lo’ak didn’t hesitate.

The pair leaped over the railing and into the water below them, the cold water shocking their system.

But something didn’t feel right.

Lo’ak held his breath before he jumped, knowing he’d have to dive under the ship to escape. Yet, as he floated in the water momentarily, he found that he couldn’t hold his breath properly. He felt like he was choking, a hot band wrapping around his lungs and squeezing.

The adrenaline kept him going, however. He needed to swim away, as the avatar could run over and see Lo’ak just floating there helplessly. He followed after Spider, noting the burning sensation in his chest.

Now it felt like someone had taken a hot rod and pressed it to his chest, pressing it all the way through and out his back. It hindered the pace he was swimming at, causing the little air he had to escape from him.

Finally, he broke the surface.

Spider was there waiting for him, looking relieved. 

“Damn, that was intense!” Spider exclaimed. He looked over his shoulder as Tsireya suddenly breached atop her ilu. 

Mere seconds later, Neteyam appeared. 

“You good bro?” Spider asked Neteyam. “Took you a minute there.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” Neteyam said, swimming towards Lo’ak. “Lo’ak, let’s–“

Lo’ak could barely keep his head above water. He understood, now. The searing pain in his chest and his back, how he felt like he couldn’t take a solid breath without water choking him.

He’d been shot. Right through his chest – and he was losing blood. Fast.

“No…” Neteyam whispered, watching water surrounding Lo’ak turn a bright red. “No, no! Damn it! He’s shot!”

Spider swam over immediately. “Shit!” 

Spider and Neteyam held Lo’ak up above water as Tsireya drew her ilu close, a horrified look on her face as she slipped off. Neteyam swung up on the ilu and grabbed Lo’ak from under his arms and hauled him up. Lo’ak barely had the energy to upright himself on the ilu. 

“Go! Go now!”

Tsireya and Spider held onto the sides of the ilu as they took off from the ship.

Lo’ak pressed his hand to his chest where the bullet had torn mercilessly through him. Blood pumped out obscenely from the wound, coating his hands and dribbling down his sternum and rolling down his spine in rivulets. He could hear Neteyam speaking to him frantically; to keep pressure on his wound, that he was okay and that they would find help.

He was beginning to feel so tired, though.

He spent the past two hours of his life being hunted and then held hostage by his parents' reimagined enemies. Lo’ak deserved to rest, even if he was the one who got himself in that situation to begin with. 

Spider was yelling at him now. He was telling him to stay awake, that he couldn’t go to sleep. Lo’ak thought he was being ridiculous.

Neteyam was screaming for their father, making Lo’ak’s ears ring in the shrill intensity of Neteyam’s voice.

Lo’ak looked up but it took a lot of energy. He could see his father running towards them on a sea stump they had approached. Tsireya pulled at him and he slumped over into the water. She cradled his head, eyes filling with tears as she looked down at him.

There was so much yelling and shouting going on, waves crashing against stone. 

Lo’ak just wanted it to be quiet. 

Hands pulled at his body, his head momentarily dunking underwater. Lo’ak sputtered as they finally pulled him from the unforgiving depths and laid him amongst stone.

He saw his father’s worried face above him. Lo’ak had long since let go of his chest, baring his grotesque wound for all to see. Dad rolled him onto his side, muttering a quiet “No…” before letting him roll onto his back.

Lo’ak felt pressure against his wound and By Eywa did it hurt. He cried out in pain, his left hand shooting up to grip Neteyam’s arm as his brother frantically pressed his hands down over his gaping wound.

Things were beginning to blur together. 

He had felt hands all over him – Tsireya had her hands on his legs. Neteyam had his hands on his chest. Dad was cupping his face with his left hand, his right pressing on Neteyam’s. Spider was holding his right hand, squeezing with all his might.

Mom was here now. 

Lo’ak watched her squeeze between Neteyam and Tsireya. Mom grabbed his left hand as she looked upon him in disbelief, ears flat against her head.

He was dying, Lo’ak realized.

His body shook with tremors he couldn’t control, as if his body was trying to regulate the rate of the blood fatally pouring from him. 

He was losing blood too fast – and with the way his family looked at him, he knew the end was inevitable. 

But Lo’ak hadn’t meant for things to get out of hand like this.

“Dad,”  Lo’ak sputtered. It was getting harder to breathe with all the water and blood flooding his lungs. 

“I’m here, son. I’m here.” Dad gripped his hand tightly. Lo’ak could see it, but couldn’t feel it. 

“I don’t…” Lo’ak grit his teeth. “I don’t want to die.” 

Mom let out an aching sob.

“It’s alright, son. You’re okay,” Dad’s voice grew shaky. It echoed in Lo’ak’s ears. “You’re alright.”

Tears welled in Lo’ak’s eyes. He was so scared.

“I don’t…”

Lo’ak looked at Neteyam. He seemed so far away. Lo’ak wanted him right beside him. He wanted Neteyam to wipe that pained look off of his face.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to apologize to his family for getting shot. He wanted to apologize for giving them grief over the years. He wanted to see Tuk and Kiri one last time. He wanted to tell them all that he loved them. 

He wanted to live.

But the energy left him. Lo’ak couldn’t feel. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. 

All he could do was lay there as life faded from him, the faint echoes of his mother’s screams lingering in his ears until there was nothing.

Nothing at all.