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pandorxxx · 1 year

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Damsel (Chapter 1)

??? x Ash Na’vi fem reader (All aged up)

Warnings: light cursing, heat cycles, injuries (blood), fingering, self pleasure, voyeurism, heavy mentions of sex, intense orgasm.

🔞mdni🔞

Synopsis: a hunting trip gone terribly wrong. Ending in you on the wrong side of the forest, hurt, scared, and in heat. What happens when the son of Toruk Makto finds you?

Agony. Pain. Fear. Need you say more?

Your Aegean skin was cold and damp from your sweat. Yet you were hot, everywhere. Your womb ached and burned from your current state. Your heat was near.

Your weekly hunting trip was cut short because of it. You were on the wrong side of the forest in the middle of the night. Scared? No. Scared wasn’t even the word. You were frightened, paranoid even.

It was a written rule that the ash clan and Omatikayan people didn’t get along. Never have, never will. And there you were, weak, hurt, and vulnerable in their forest.

You laid against the hard bark of a tree. Writhing in your own pain. You were a delirious mess, panting, trying to fill your burning lungs with air. You occasionally would flutter in and out of consciousness in exhaustion. But would quickly gasp for air when you found yourself doing so.

Your plan was to stay still and quiet until sunrise, praying that you wouldn’t come across a native Navi, or any of their angry creatures.

Not to mention the crippling pain you were in. There was no way you could stand with out assistance. Your whole body was trembling, hot to the touch.

Your loincloth was soaked with your slick, smearing against your trembling thighs. But your delirium deemed it quite impossible to even attempt to satisfy yourself.

You knew you were hurt, and the pain was coming from your leg. However, your vision was blurred with the constant flow of tears.

Oh, how you wished to be home.

You contemplated with yourself:

If you were to stay out here, it was a very slim chance at your survival. But maybe if you just tried hard enough to stand, you could get out of the forest.

You choose the latter, using what strength you had in your arms to attempt at shimmying up the tree. It was a slow and steady stride, your back becoming scraped from the pressure on the bark.

You used your un-injured leg to push your body up. Whimpering and whining the entire way. And just when you thought you had it, your knees buckled under you, sending you tumbling back down the tree with a loud thud. “Fuck.” You strained, leaning your head back against the tree in frustration.

If no one knew of your presence, they sure did now. “Who’s there?” A deep voice uttered in the shadows. You audibly gasped, immediately palming your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.

His strong, muscular arm made an appearance before he did. He held his bow, ready to shoot if necessary. The darker shade of blue and his stripe pattern told you everything you needed to know.

Next was his broad back. Muscles flexing with every turn he made. His strong legs, legs of a true warrior. His steps were slow and quiet, scanning his area. His hair shaking dramatically with every turn of his head. He was…beautiful. But dangerous to you. So you kept quiet, stopped your breathing, hoping that he would soon walk away.

Unlucky for you, a wave of pain washed over your leg. Throbbing uncontrollably and unbearably. To the point that you had no other choice but to let out a soft whimper. His ears perked, and his entire body turned to you in an instance, drawing his bow back simultaneously.

“PLEASE. IM HURT.” You whimpered, trembling hands going up in surrender. His amber eyes widened at you, slowly turning the bow away from your small frame.

He scanned you from a distance, ruling out your potential to be a threat to him. His eyebrows were ruffled in confusion while your eyes were riddled with fear.

“I-I can’t move. Please, don’t hurt me.” You strained, shaking your head in fear as your eyes welled with more tears than before.

“I won’t hurt you.” He reassured, bending down to place his bow on the mossy ground. He looked into your eyes, his demeanor becoming softer. He threw his hands up in surrender to show you that he meant no harm to you.

“See? It’s fine.” He nodded, standing to his full height slowly, hands still up to keep you comfortable with his presence.

You eyed him frantically, still unsure about his intentions. Yet and still you nodded slowly, letting him know that you understood.

He smiled nervously, scanning your entire frame for a moment. He started at your wet, curly hair that flowed down your shoulders. Your damp, muted blue skin told him that you weren’t omatikayan. And so did your black, crystal embroidered cloths. Then his eye contact trailed down to your bloody leg, and his breathing hitched.

“Eywa, You’re bleeding, miss.” He spoke with concern, darting over to you. His quick strides made you scoot back against the tree in fear, and he noticed.

“Shit! I-I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.” He shook his head, squatting down in-front of you. The night breeze provided you with a wiff of his musky scent, so addictive to you in this state. Your eyes fluttered between amber and chartreuse with each blink as you tried to snap out of it.

His eyes squinted slightly in confusion. “Are you ok?” He asked, scanning your entire body again.

“I’m…in heat.” You spoke with a shaky voice, jaw clenching in restraint as your eyes trailed his broad chest.

His eyes widened, realizing that you might actually be a threat to him in your state. There was so much going on that he didn’t even realize your strong pheromones that lingered until you confessed. As addictive as they became, he used all the possible restraint he could muster to tend to you. “Yes. I-I know now. You’re at the height of it.” He nodded, sending you a smile riddled with pity.

“Can I?” He asked, pointing at your injured leg. You sighed, closing your eyes in exhaustion before opening them again. You gave him a hesitant nod as consent. He reached for your leg slowly, gently grazing your skin before grabbing it gently.

You jumped at the contact. His touch was firm and satisfying. Like ice on a burn. He halted his movements, shooting his head up at you.

“Sorry. Did I hurt you?” He asked in concern. You shook your head slowly. Eyeing his chiseled frame. “Your hands are…strong.” You strained, admiring how his entire hand wrapped around your calf with no problem. He looked down as well, a light chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” He nodded, shooting you a lighthearted smile. You blushed through the pain, nodding your head in response. He began to pull out an elastic bandage from his woven pouch, unrolling it to the size he needed.

“So, what’s your name? I-if you’re comfortable with sharing.” He asked, taking a seat in-front of you, placing your ankle on his thigh. You watched intently. “Y/n.” You whispered, watching him cut the bandage with his dagger.

“Y/n, Huh? That’s very pretty.” He smiled, laser focused on stretching the bandage. You watched his abs and arms flex with each pull of the bandage. Putting you in a trance.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, watching your eyes flash between amber and chartreuse again. You shook your head, eyes becoming normal again. You sighed in frustration, snapping your attention to his concerned face.

“It’s close. Really close.” You nodded, watching him tie the bandage gently around your womb. He sighed as well, feeling so much pity for you in this moment.

“Im so sorry, y/n. Trust me, I know how much pain you’re in right now. Just stay calm, ok?” He sent you a soft glance. You nodded, still watching him bandage your leg up. Silence fell for a few seconds before you broke the ice.

“I-I never asked your name.” You stuttered, trailing your eyes back to his face. “Neteyam. My name is Neteyam. It’s nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances of course.” He chuckled, still focused on your leg.

“Neteyam?” You whimpered, voice shaky and full of fear. His eyes shot up at you in concern. “What’s the matter?” He asked, hurrying to secure the bandage.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, teeth chattering together as tears fell from your puffy eyes. His gaze became soft, gently letting your leg down on the ground to wipe your tears.“I know, I know. Is this your first heat?” He asked, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Yes. I-I feel…hot.” You whined, nuzzling your head into his hand with a soft purr rumbling in your chest. Your tail began to tap the mossy ground beneath you, and that’s all he needed to know. He soon realized that his presence was speeding your heat up, making it more intense for you. An although you were tempting, he had no intentions on helping you through this.

“Where? Where is it hot. Show me.” He asked hesitantly. You grabbed his hand, trailing it down to your stomach. He sighed, watching intently.

You then proceeded to slide his hand down lower, until it reached your slimy loincloth, soaked with your slick. You slid his strong hand in between your legs, closing them around his arm. Your head flew back against the tree, letting out a soft moan at the friction.

His eyes widened, watching you slightly roll your hips to hump his hand, using it for any type of relief you could get. Even if it wasn’t much.

“Y/n. I-I know you’re not well right now. But I can take you to my grandmother, she can help you.” He reassured, his gaze still set on the sight in-front of him.

You shook your head in disagreement. Eyes falling shut as you whimpered loudly at his firm hand against your clothed cunt. “Your people will hurt me.” You moaned, holding onto his strong arm, using it as leverage to speed up the pace.

“Listen, I-I know our people don’t get along. But I promise…they won’t hurt you. My father is olo’eyktan, I can talk to him.” He explained, his voice straining in restraint at your scent. Your addictive scent.

“No. Just help me, now. I-It hurts.” You whimpered, hooking your fingers under your loincloth, shimmying it down to your ankles.

“I can’t help you. You could get pregnant, y/n. And my father would skin me.” He explained, his words going in one ear and out the other as you spread your legs wide. Your thighs connected together with numerous strings of slick as they pulled apart. Your juices flowed out of you like a slow leak, trickling to the mossy ground beneath you.

“Fuck.” Neteyam whispered, running his hand through his hair. His jaw clenched in restraint, eyeing your glistening cunt. “Just touch me then. Please, neteyam. I-I can’t take it anymore.” You cried, using the pad of your fingers to rub circles into your sensitive clit. Your moans became progressively louder as you rolled your hips against your hand.

You spread your folds opened with two fingers. Using the other hand to lightly tap on your clit, sending you into overdrive. Neteyam was stuck, his cock throbbing against the tight fabric that held it. He was completely tranced by your scent and your erotic behavior. All he could do was watch you.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, finally sliding all 3 of your fingers inside of yourself, coaxing the nastiest squelching sounds with each thrust of your hand. Your eyes came back from there trip behind your sockets as a glowing bright green, pupils replaced with slits. Your heat had taken over.

His eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he watched you aggressively fuck your hand, looking for some sort of relief. And finally, it was coming. Your stomach visibly tensed, and your whimpers became so loud to the point where Neteyam had to cover your mouth as you pleasured yourself.

“Gonna cum?” He asked, staring at you in awe. You nodded lazily, tears flowing down your face as you whimpered into his hand.

“Ok, go ahead. But you have to keep it down.” He whispered. His deep voice being all the motivation you needed. Your eyes rolled back again, legs trembling uncontrollably.

And just like that, you had came undone. Squirting all over Neteyam’s lower abdomen, tapping your clit to make the orgasm more intense.

“Oh my fucking God.” He muttered breathily, muffling your screams with his hand. His eyes scanned his soaking wet stomach before trailing back up to your face. Eyebrows scrunched together as you came down form your intense high.

“Feeling…better?” He asked, already knowing what your answer would be. With his hand still over your mouth, you shook your head with a small whimper. He sighed, taking his hand from your mouth.

“I-I need you. I need this.” You whined, grabbing his bulge, massaging it in your dainty hands. He grunted, watching you slide your hand into his loincloth to feel him. He let out a series of low curses, squeezing his eyes shut. Although Neteyam was a man of great restraint, it was slipping away from him quickly.

And this was the moment that he realized, he had gotten himself into a very tricky situation.

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @blueslxt-primary @jackchampismybbg @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee

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sunofpandora · 5 months

Note

Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF

P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.

But yeaaa have a good day/night :)

Authors note:

Hi babes!

So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.

V I R A G O

Part 1.

The Day the Sky Turned Red.

8.7k words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

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

When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?

Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)

Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ 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.

Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/

I think that’s it?

Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)

(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner))

Super important note for the request sender:

Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,

Not proofread

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.

To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’

3 years ago.

Day the sky people returned.

Y/n is 15-16

The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.

That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother.

That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others.

That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.

That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.

Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.

They grow when they are deprived of light.

But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places.

That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.

Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight.

Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?

To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?

Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.

Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.

But did it belong in your hands?

Your father would say,

“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”

The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.

Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”

A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.

You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.

Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.

Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds.

Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.

Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame.

But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?

When the embers refused to settle.

You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.

Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.

Nothingness was never a threat.

Not when the promise of warmth remained.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n met grief when she was only a child.

When she was 15, the RDA returned.

The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood.

Gray and red were never a pretty combination.

The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise,

Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.

The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned.

When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames.

You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.

Her body stained with red.

You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.

You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer.

People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.

The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live.

In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.

Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.

Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.

Emptiness no longer infatuated you.

The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.

Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.

Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body.

Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.

Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.

All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.

To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies.

Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier.

Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.

Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.

A small carved arrowhead.

Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.

Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.

Tuk gave a small flower.

Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.

Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.

Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.

All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.

He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies.

You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man.

You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were piece of yours.

You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips.

His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.

You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone.

You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.

This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.

To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.

He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.

Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.

So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.

He was not yours.

Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe.

There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.

Grief was a funny thing.

You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.

Staring at yourself with pity.

Such a weak thing she is.

Sobbing.

What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.

You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.

Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?

Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path.

Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?

What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black.

You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth.

Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.

⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆

Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.

You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.

She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.

She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.

Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.

Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My sweet”

Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.

“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”

She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,

“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”

He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.

But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.

“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.

Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you.

“What are you saying?”

It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.

“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”

The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment.

“I’ll be fine on my own-“

You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.

“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”

He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.

“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”

The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.

Neytiri kisses your head gently.

“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”

She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.

“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”

The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall.

The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.

Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.

“He told me to protect the people.”

The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.

“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira.

I have let the demons take another from me.”

The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.

She took a breath and gazed at you.

“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.

The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.

Jake nodded.

“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”

The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.

Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.

“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”

Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,

Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.

“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”

She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.

Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.

You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.

You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.

When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.

Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.

Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.

Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.

Why did the colors go away?

Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?

“Y/n.”

You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.

Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.

“Neteyam-

Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”

Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.

He gently touches your arm.

“I’m sorry, truly-

What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-

Did someone-”

You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.

“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-

I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”

Neteyam cuts you off.

“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”

The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.

You huff and lean against the tree bark.

“I just needed air.”

Its small and muttered.

A shaky breath left your lips.

“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”

Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.

The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.

“Teyam?

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”

As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.

He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.

He glances at you, then back up at the sky.

“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”

You pause for a moment, looking over at him.

“A circle?”

He nods.

“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.

My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”

He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.

“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”

You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.

So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”

His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, and he nods at you.

“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“

“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”

The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.

“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”

Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.

You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.

“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.

I want them to be the ones who fear us.”

There was a new found devotion in your heart.

A bitter song of fire and desolation.

Vengeance.

Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.

That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.

Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.

“And so you will..”

No.

Don’t.

I don’t want to loose you in the fire.

But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“I have something for you.”

He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.

He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.

“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”

You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.

“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”

He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.

“It is for you. Not for your loss.”

His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.

For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.

“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.

Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.

The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.

He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.

“Oh it’s beautiful…”

Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.

“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”

He smiled at the memory.

You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.

You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.

“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”

You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.

“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”

You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.

How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?

No my dear Y/n.

It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.

His circle.

His spiral.

You were the center.

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

Years later….(y/n is now 18.)

(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)

Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.

Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.

“Remember the plan.”

Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.

“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”

You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.

“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”

You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer.

“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”

You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”

“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”

You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time

You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks. The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.

Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts.

You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.

Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.

She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.

For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.

Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.

You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.

You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot.

The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.

Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,

You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.

‘Drop’

In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.

Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.

The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.

The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.

They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.

Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.

But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.

Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.

The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.

He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.

To Neteyam, you were made of fire.

Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.

Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.

He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.

He knew you were angry.

He was angry too.

He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.

He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.

At first, he thought it was jealousy.

The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.

Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.

He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were “too important” to be fighting.

Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.

Were you better than him?

Stronger than him?

Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?

As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.

He knows its love. It must be.

It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.

He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin.

You haunted him.

“Bro!”

And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.

Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.

The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.

Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.

Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.

His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.

“Bro! We have got to get down there!”

Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.

“No way! Dad will skin us!”

Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.

“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”

The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.

“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”

Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.

He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.

“C‘mom bro!”

“Lo’ak!”

“Lo’ak come back!”

Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.

“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”

Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,

Neteyam came to a halt.

“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”

Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.

“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.

“I’m sure he did-

Let’s go-“

He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.

“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”

Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.

And then you saw them.

“Son of a bitch!”

You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.

Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)

Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.

“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”

The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.

Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.

Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.

Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.

Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.

I guess we’ll never know.

Lo’ak spoke for him.

“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“

You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.

“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”

You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.

“Bro let’s go!-“

The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.

“Gun ship inbound!”

Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.

“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.

As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run,

“Come with us, now!

Go-!”

He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.

The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,

“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.

A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.

You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb.

Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.

You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air.

You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body.

Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.

Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.

Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.

“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!”

Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.

He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.

A bracelet?

Your bracelet.

It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.

“Shit! Y/n-“

Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”

Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.

“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-

The blast-“

Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,

“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”

“But sir-“

“That’s a direct order!”

Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.

The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.

“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.”

You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.

The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.

You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.

You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.

“I’m sorry-”

You mumbled.

“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”

The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.

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

When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.

Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.

Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.

You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.

Tuk gasps

“Y/n! You're alive!”

She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.

“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”

You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.

Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”

You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.

She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.

You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.

Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.

A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.

“Tsmuke, (sister)

You are awake.”

Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.

She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.

“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“

You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.

“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”

She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.

As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.

Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.

You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.

It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.

It was well after hours.

Everyone should be asleep.

Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?

Was it a sky demon? An animal?

You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.

“See? I told you she was okay.”

It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.

You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.

Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.

He was your family. Your ride-or-die.

Your right hand.

It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.

Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.

Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.

Spider was a bit of a different case.

As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.

Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.

She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.

But she was kind.

She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.

Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.

Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.

She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.

You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.

He cried when your mother died.

You think he might have cried more than you did.

Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.

You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.

When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.

You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.

The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.

“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”

Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.

You whacked him with your tail.

“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”

Spider groaned,

“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-

And now one took a picture for me!”

Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”

You flushed, shoving him away.

Spider laughed, standing up.

“I can only imagine-“

He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.

“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”

You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.

Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.

Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.

“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”

Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.

“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”

Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.

You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.

The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.

You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.

The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.

You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.

You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.

Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.

It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.

It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.

The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.

The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him

You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.

Alas the stars did not align for you.

Not tonight.

You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.

Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.

The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.

You groaned.

“Spider did you forget something again?..”

When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.

“”Neteyam?..”

authors note:

I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s in her reputation eraaaa. We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹

-Sol

Jan 2034

“Virago” series, chp. 1.

Taglist:

@plooto

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neytiri

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sullyfortress · 1 year

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So I had a few people ask for my thoughts on the upcoming “ash people” or fire na’vi so here is a concept of a cute couple and headcannons:

I think they will be a people associated with fire because their clans are located at the base of volcanos, benefitting from the volcanic earth.

bioluminescent dots glow red/orange

Eyes have adapted to extreme light and heat and in situations will turn into small slits.

Called ash people because of volcanic ash being constantly on their feet, they also have adapted to have thicker skin on hands and feet that can handle heat.

Charcoal and ash are commonly used in body paint and decoration.

Weapons and jewelry are made from obsidian like rocks and leather from large Komodo like lizards that dwell near volcanic openings.

OH YES their ikrans are basically large Komodo dragons that can run across volcanic plains. Initiation to becoming a warrior includes venturing into an inactive cave system to trap and tame your mount.

They actually have a very rich diet as volcanic soil is extremely fertile, very diverse and wild plant like grows from large inactive volcanic cracks.

this is all my thoughts based on the idea of “ash people” I have not done any actual research into what my man james in planning.

#Ash people #na’vi art #na’vi headcannons #Avatar 3 #avatar the way of water #Na’vi ocs #My art

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eywa-eveng · 1 year

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ɪ. sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏɴᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ᴊᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʟʟʏ, sᴜʟʟʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴹᴱᵀᴷᴬᵞᴵᴺᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 11.2k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – widower!Jake

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪᴠ

Sand swirls through the air like ash from a fire, waves of white flurries glitter in the sunlight, stirred up by the wingbeats of the descending ikran. One by one they each land on a small inlet, screeching their arrival as if the warning horn hadn’t been enough to draw a crowd around them. There’s four, each more intricately patterned than the last, like detailed weaving spread across their wings. Such creatures are foreign to the reefs. Aside from seldom trading among the People in the far reaches of the forest, ikran are never seen in Awa’atlu. To see them here now, unannounced, is cause for curiosity. The riders seem harmless as they dismount, the oldest of them extending his arms in a show of vulnerability. He’s easy to recognize as your eyes trace over the length of his smallest finger, one more than any other Na’vi you’ve ever known. The crowd shifts like ebbing waves as you move through them, parting to allow you to greet Toruk Makto and his family. The youngest of his daughters hides in his shadow, face half hidden behind his leg as he inclines his head towards you. It’s a surprise that he knows who you are when he offers his greeting.

“Oel ngati kameie, tsakarem.” He says your name gently. The title is an old adage from days long past, before your rites of adulthood. One that belonged to you and your sister. But she is mated to the olo'eyktan, not you. It was Ronal that he would need to show such reverence for. Still, in your sister’s stead you are the best person to speak on behalf of the clan.

“Toruk Makto, oel ngati kameie. You are a far way from the forest. What has brought you to our island?” The crowd is growing larger and their voices raise around you, questions ringing in their hushed tones. There is uneasiness in the air as warriors gather around you, unarmed but tensed in anticipation. They wear looks of curiosity and suspicion as they circle the family.

“I would like to know the same.” Tonowari says as he dismounts his tsurak, gesturing respectfully to Jakesully as your sister moves in beside him. You nod to them both. Whatever reverence Jakesully may hold for you, it will always be shadowed by your sister. She eyes the newcomers warily, catching your gaze as you move in beside her. There is fire brewing in her ocean blue eyes, something weary and distrusting as she watches her husband speak to Toruk Makto.

“We seek uturu.”

“Uturu?” Ronal asks incredulously, ears flicking upward. “And what would the great Toruk Makto need sanctuary from? What war have you started now?” You try to catch her eye as she strides across the sand to look at the children, twirling their tails over her wrist and pulling at their thin arms.

“No more war. I’m done with war. I just want to keep my family safe.” The great warrior shakes his head, lifting his daughter into his arms.

“What family is this?” She snaps, raising his eldest daughter’s hands for all to see. “These children are not even true Na’vi! They have demon blood!” The girl pulls her arms away but it is too late, the clan has seen her five fingers. But Jakesully has them, too, and is quick to flaunt it to your sister. It does little to quell her distaste as she continues to look over his children with a heavy judgment in her eyes.

“Ronal!” It is bad practice to question your elder sister, more so when she is tsahìk. The voice of Eywa rings in her words, but the Great Mother is not cruel. Ronal’s gaze snaps to you, eyes narrowed as she bares her teeth in warning. You hiss right back, ears pulling back in a display of defiance. She abandons the children to slink closer to you. Her eyes are narrowed as she snaps at you.

“You are not tsahìk. This decision is not yours to make.”

“You are being cruel. They are children. He is a father. These things should matter.” Ronal hisses again. She may be tsahìk but you have learned every lesson that she has and Tonowari knows this. His eyes watch the two of you as you circle each other until Ronal finally backs down, glaring up at her mate with a resolute shake of her head. But Tonowari is not weary of the unknown. Not as your sister is. He is kind and gentle to those that need it. A worthy olo'eyktan. They share in an unspoken conversation, staring at each other until finally Ronal relents with a nod.

“Jakesully and his family will stay with us.” He decides, reminding the clan to be mindful of their ignorance. “But they are forest people. They do not know the sea. It will be like taking their first steps, learning as a child does.” He names Ao’nung and Tsireya the childrens’ teacher before your sister turns to you with a scowl on her face.

“My sister will teach you, Jakesully. Learn well.” She says before stalking away. The crowd begins to dissipate as soon as their leaders turn their back to the newcomers, declaring them non threatening with action alone.

No matter the excitement there is still work that needs to be done and everyone moves to return to their tasks. And now you’ve been given a heavy burden. As Tsireya leads the Sully family away you mull over your new responsibilities. Teaching children is easy. It is easier to learn when you are young, but Jakesully is not young. Not as a child is. He is a warrior. Not old, still in his prime, but surely past the point of learning such simple tasks as breathing and riding an ilu. These things are easy to learn young. Of course, Jakesully will not master anything in a day and if he is as great a warrior as the stories say it will surely be shameful for him to be forced to learn as if he is a baby.

Still, Ronal has given you this order and you will fulfill your purpose as asked. Just as Tonowari said, there is great shame in being useless and it’s how you’ve always felt living in Ronal’s shadow. The People respect you but there is no need for a tsakarem as old as you. It is the title of a youngling, one that Ronal outgrew years ago. It used to feel like a crown placed upon your head. The clan needs a tsahìk just as it needs water and they have one. Ronal is healthy and young, glory to Eywa, and it makes you useless.

Tsireya will be named the next tsakarem, or perhaps another young girl of the clan. And they’d overshadow you as well. Though you can’t find it in your heart to resent your sister or niece. It is not their fault that the Great Mother’s light shines brightly through them, that Tonowari had his pick of the tsakarem and chose Ronal. It was better than an arranged mating. He had a choice and you will not fault anyone for his freedom to decide his own mate. But at times you still feel lost, like you’ve floated far from the reef and lost the way home. You seldom dwell on these feelings but Ronal snapping at you reminded you that you are not tsahìk just as she said. Whatever Jakesully’s show of respect had stirred inside you was easily squashed under your sister’s temper.

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something.” Jakesully says, drawing you from your stupor as he takes the basket from your arms. You hardly remember walking here but it is where your feet have carried you as your mind wandered. The marui is empty save for him, the children went off to train with your niece and nephew some time ago. You have nothing to say to his remark as you stand with the light of the disappearing sun warming your back. The shape of your body blankets the pod, cutting a dark shadow across the brightly woven mats. Jakesully’s eyes look a few shades darker in the warm light, yellow irises shining bright as flames as he tilts his head in curiosity. You shake your head.

“It is nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing. You didn’t even hear me say your name when you came in.”

“I’m sorry,” you greet him properly, touching your fingertips to your forehead and drawing it out towards him. «I See you.» He returns the gesture.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Actually I should thank you.”

“Thank me? It’s only fruit. The children will be hungry after swimming for so long.”

“The fruit is one thing, but I wanted to thank you for your kindness earlier. I knew your sister would be less accepting, but I hadn’t expected her to–” he draws in a deep breath, “thank you for defending my children.”

“I know your story, Jakesully. It has carried across Pandora like a song on the wind. Every Na’vi knows your name. There is no fault in your children. They look like you. I am not tsahìk,” you say quietly, “but even I can See that the Great Mother chose you for a reason. No matter what Ronal says, Eywa has not turned her back on you. You don’t need to thank me for saying it.” He laughs but it lacks humor. He sounds pained, rueful, as his ears drop ever so slightly. His brow furrows, so differently than any other Na’vi’s frown with the adage of dark brows, eyes shifting towards the burning light of the coming eclipse. There is something in the reflection of his eyes. A deep sadness. In time, he’ll learn that you were chosen as a tsakarem because your eyes See things others don’t. In everyone’s eyes is a piece of their spirit and Eywa has blessed you to know what each piece means. It is the one thing Ronal has yet to learn. This she cannot See.

“You can just call me Jake.” He says after a while. Whatever torment he’d been thinking of passes like the tide, tension rolling off his shoulders as he shakes away the darkness.

You nod, “Jake. And you can call me by name. No need to say tsakarem. I haven’t been one in years. Since Ronal mated with Tonowari. There’s only tsahìk now.”

“I wanted to show respect.” He says sheepishly, still worried about making a good impression. As if you have the power to rescind Tonowari’s granting of uturu.

“I See you, Jake. If you See me, that is enough respect. I’ll go now, I have to help prepare food for the clan, but we will begin training in the morning.” He looks as if he wants to say something more, mouth poised to ask, but he simply quiets himself with a nod.

Morning rises in shades of shell pink and sea blue, warming the woven paths hung between the marui as you go to fetch Jake. His children are still inside when you arrive. You pause in the open flap of their marui, hesitating to enter. It feels intrusive arriving so suddenly when you’ve yet to properly introduce yourself to the family, but Jake welcomes you in with an offer of breakfast.

“You made this?” You ask, accepting the food graciously, but still feeling awkward sitting down beside him. His children eye you warily, thin tails flicking in anticipation. All but the youngest whose eyes only hold curiosity.

“No,” Jake says around a mouthful, “someone brought us food this morning.” Probably one of the elders.

Both you and Ronal had been scolded by them during your meal last night. Berated for acting so childishly in front of newcomers. There was no defense for your behavior. Had it been just harsh words they’d have nothing to say but the two of you had acted in aggression like bickering children, though your mother insisted that it couldn’t be helped. Siblings are more comfortable with shows of aggression towards each other because there’s no real threat of violence between families. Unfortunately, of the Sully family, only Jake knew of your relationship. The children surely must’ve thought the two of you would swipe at each other regardless of Ronal’s pregnant state. Both of you had been scolded thoroughly, heads bowed and ears tucked in the face of your punishment. Adults turned to children before the elders of your clan. It made Ronal angrier than she had already been getting belittled as if she wasn’t an authority in the clan and she’d been glad to leave your presence when the two of you were finally dismissed.

Now it only makes sense that Jake’s children are wary of the woman that dared to stand up to the tsahìk so publicly. You offer them a proper introduction as a show of peace. They seem to settle as you name Ronal as your older sister.

“I’m Neteyam.” His eldest speaks first. Even in so few words his voice carries a cadence you recognize, an echo of someone else’s voice. His voice sounds as assured as his father’s and you wonder how much Jake’s sons must revere him, and how much they must loathe the shadow his legacy has cast over their lives. It is the same with you and Ronal, but perhaps not as heavy. Ronal is only known well within your clan. To have a father who’s name has been woven into songs must be a great burden to bear.

“I’m Lo’ak.” His second son says after his daughter turns her head away, yet not so far that you can’t see her eyes. She’s wary, confused, and filled with the light of Eywa. Truly something special but still young, still abrasive. You don’t push her to speak after she mumbles her name.

“I’m Tuk!” The youngest says, less bothered by the tension of the unknown that fills the air.

“Tuktirey.” Jake says once they’ve all eaten and Tsireya comes to gather them.

“Hm?”

“Tuk’s full name is Tuktirey.”

“Oh. Would you rather me call her that?” Perhaps you hadn’t earned the right to be so informal with them. Jake was a father, he’s protective. If this is his way of shielding them from harm you’ll comply happily.

“No,” he laughs, “she thinks she’s in trouble when you call her by her full name. I was only saying it in case you were curious.” You hadn’t been. Your names in Awa’atlu differ only slightly from those that are common elsewhere. Tuk seemed like a perfectly good name for a girl but Tuktirey sounds even lovelier.

“She’ll grow into it, I’m sure.” You says, listening to her scream as she jumps into the water. Soon Tsireya and Ao’nung will teach them to dive properly, but for now their shouting and splashing is just fine. Breathing comes first. They move like shadows beneath the water, darker skin standing out where the others disappear in the greenish-blue waves. They only make it so far before their braided heads poke out of the water, clearly out of breath long before the Metkayina children. Teaching them will take patience.

“That’s what her mother always said.” Another melancholy look takes over Jake’s face. It is not your place but even still you want to ask about his feelings. Where was his mate? Had she remained with her clan in the forest? It sounds inconceivable. To be parted from her children would surely tear at any mother’s heart.

“Where is her mother?” You ask gently. Jake’s expression crumbles then rebuilds into something empty and contained. His eyes are hauntingly empty when he turns to look at you.

“Dead.” It’s enough to make you flinch away. No matter how much you want to pluck the petals from this flower to see what’s at the center it’s clear Jake doesn’t want to speak of it any longer. It’s only fair. Losing a mate is a terrible pain. There are more questions in your head but you ignore them. It is not your job to soothe his spiritual wounds. You’re not tsahìk. Instead you lead the way out of the marui to a quieter area of the water.

“We will learn here. If you want to live here the ocean must become like a second home. You said you could adapt, this is your first step to change.” He nods. He looks restless, bouncing lightly on his feet as he waits for your instructions. He’s clearly eager to learn, eyes suddenly bright with almost childlike anticipation. Even his tail seems to move with rapt interest. It’s endearing to see him so open to learning your way of life, to truly becoming one with the clan.

The ocean is as warm as the sand as you step in. The water swallows you, up your ankles and knees, hips and shoulders until you disappear beneath the gentle waves. Threads of white sunlight pierce the water, dancing in rippling ribbons across the backs of passing animals as you swim farther out. You surface quickly and gesture for Jake to follow you. He clambers through the shallow water awkwardly before disappearing beneath the waves. He moves with more precision in the water. Despite his form being made for balance and agility on land he moves well, with strong strokes that cut through the water. You sink beneath him as he approaches, watching his shadow pass overhead. He only stops when a few sloapek swim into his path, slowing down at the sight of the horned fish. He turns to look for you, brows raised in surprise. The childish glow returns to his face as he watches the animals swim around him.

«They are safe. Sloapek don’t harm Na’vi.» You sign to him, realizing belatedly that he can’t understand you. He tilts his head inquisitively before gesturing that he needs air.

“What were those things?” He asks when you both surface.

“Sloapek. They don’t bother Na’vi. Most of the animals are docile, especially this close to shore. It’s only outside the reef that you need to worry. Even tsurak are safe if you don’t bother them. Like your forest banshees. They’re a hunter’s mount. If you wish to learn that you’ll need to ask Tonowari. Ilu I know but skimwings are something meant to be taught by a proper warrior. I learned to complete my rites, but I am not a warrior.” You say, tracing the shape of your first tattoo spanning from the right side of your chest to your shoulder. “Learn well and you will receive your own tattoo when all your rites are passed.”

For all of your doubts, Jake learns well. Despite his thinner limbs he is a strong swimmer, something he said he was taught long ago. He hasn’t said that he learned when he was still one with the tawtute but it is what you suspect. His body knows how to move and yet his lungs are like a baby’s. Whatever he learned then was not taught to his new body. He can swim only for so long, though he’s getting better with each day as he builds his strength and stamina. As are his children. Kiri seems to be learning the quickest as the days pass and she’s finally become comfortable enough to speak with you as she would her family.

“What type of wound is this?” She asks, stretching to lean over your shoulder. It is easy to see where the hunter is wounded. It looks as if something has taken root beneath his skin, sprouting and spreading like faintly glowing rivers. The barb of whatever stung him is blessedly gone from the wound. The mark of it is shallow and you mix a salve to soothe the stinging.

“Most likely, a barb from a nettle coral. They are stone trees outside the reef that have stinging spikes. They’re usually hard to remove because they’re barbed. Luckily it did not stick.” She draws closer in excitedly, always keen to learn something new about the world around her. Her chin rests on your shoulder, hair tickling your ear as she leans over to watch you work.

“What are you mixing?” She asks with rapt attention. You list off the things as you add them to the bowl, reminding Kiri not to forget to maintain pressure on the man’s wound even as she’s distracted. If he shares your sister’s distrust of Jake and his four fingered children he says nothing as her hand keeps his blood inside his body while you mix his salve. When it is ready you let Kiri smell the bowl. She mentioned liking the scent of medicine as it reminded her of home, of her grandmother and the “lab.” You’re still not exactly sure what a lab is but it was a place of solace for her. The first conversation you shared with Kiri started because you smelled of something familiar, an almost human-like substance, she said, that filled the lab with a sharp, clean scent. It had only been a few plants to settle a child’s stomach but she appreciated the smell nonetheless. Now she’s become your shadow when Ronal is occupied with other duties, leaving the healing of lesser wounds to you. Her yellow eyes are rapt with attention as you carefully cover the hunter’s wound with the soothing balm. It will stop the stinging and help with healing but the path of the shock will scar like a tree growing up his torso. You dress the wound carefully and remind him to rest as he leaves the marui.

“Sa’tsmuke,” Ao’nung’s voice carries as he rushes into the healing tent. Kiri stiffens beside you as she rinses the blood from her hands. There’s still a heavy bruise beneath his eye from his earlier fight with Neteyam and Lo’ak but he doesn’t seem to be otherwise injured.

“What is it?” Ao’nung eyes Kiri warily, shifting awkwardly with his eyes towards the ground. “Ao’nung, what is it?”

“Lo’ak is missing.” He mumbles.

“Missing?” You’re on your feet before he can explain. “Ao’nung, it’s nearly eclipse. Why did you wait so long to speak? Where did you last see him?” He mutters something else, turning his face away from you. Whatever he’s done he is trying to keep his eyes hidden. You lift his gaze with a firm hand under his chin and all that shines in his pale blue eyes is guilt.

“What have you done? Where is Lo’ak?”

“Near Three Brothers.” He says finally, eyes downcast as he shifts in the face of your ire.

“Three Bro–Ao’nung! You took him beyond the reef?” His shoulders sag in shame. “There is no time for this. You will be dealt with later. I will go find Lo’ak. Kiri.” She doesn’t take her eyes off Ao’nung, gaze bright with anger, but her ear ticks in your direction. “Take him to your father. Have him say exactly what he told me.”

She nods, gripping Ao’nung tight by his arm so he won’t wrestle away from these consequences. You’ve known your tsmuke’itan to be brash and hotheaded, still going through the throes of growing and becoming a man, but this is beyond something you’d expected of him. If he is here now it means he abandoned Lo’ak. Left a newcomer outside the reef with no knowledge of how to return home. As Kiri pulls him away you hiss, mock clawing at his face in a show of frustration. He doesn’t flinch, knows you wouldn’t harm him despite your anger, but his ears fall back in a show of submission. He knows what he’s done.

Eclipse closes in as you call your ilu, and you consider lighting a torch but riding underwater will be quicker, so with a yip you set out with only the dimmed sky as your guiding light. Three Brothers isn’t too far beyond the safety of the reef. Your ilu feels the urgency in your body through tsaheylu, swimming as fast as she can manage beyond the safety of the seawall terraces. The only light so far from land is that of Pandora, the animals twinkling beneath the dark water and the stars sparkling overhead, Naranawm ever present in the sky. Your voice echoes over the sky as you call for Lo’ak, praying to the Great Mother that he hasn’t drowned or been attacked.

“Lo’ak!” This time there is a splash, like something hitting the water a distance away. Weary of the darkness but worried for Jake’s son, you move towards it, hoping it isn’t an akula tempting you into a trap. In your haste you left for open waters unarmed saved for your knife. Now is not the time to be caught in a predator’s sights. Something small moves through the water, small enough to ease the thoughts of a hunting animal. As the silhouette moves through the pale ripples of starlit waves you find familiar shapes outlined by a scattering of freckled light.

“Lo’ak!” He follows your voice, allowing you to pull him onto your ilu. He doesn’t look nearly as exhausted as you’d expected him to be after spending half of the day outside of the reef’s gentle waters. Tsireya must’ve taught him well. He’s quiet as you start back towards the island, urging your ilu forward at a gentler pace. For a while he doesn’t say anything and you realize he won’t. You’ve seen Lo’ak’s eyes before this. He feels lost, othered. A withered sapling at the foot of a towering tree, always fearful of being a disappointment. But you are not his father.

“You don’t owe me silence, Lo’ak. I know what ma tsmuke’itan did. He came to me himself. If you are angry you can be angry. If you are frightened you can be frightened. If you are upset you can be upset. I will not scold you for speaking your heart. Ao’nung was wrong. He mistreated you. Whatever you feel is alright.” He’s quiet still before letting out an unsteady breath.

“I want to go home.” He says finally. His voice sounds small and you’re reminded that he’s still a child. His arms tighten around your waist as his head falls against your back.

“I’m sorry, Lo’ak. I know this was not your choice but Awa’atlu is your home now. The Metkayina are your family.”

“Doesn’t feel like much of a family.” He grumbles. “No one Sees me. Demon blood, alien, that’s all they see.” He bites out, hands tightening to fists as anger builds in his voice. You don’t discourage it. Most of the clan has kept away from the Sullys but those that don’t have largely been unkind in their approach. Even Ao’nung and his friends have made the children feel alone in this new place. But they are not aliens. Even if they carry the mark of the skypeople they were born and raised as Na’vi in the forests of Pandora. They’re no more human than you are.

“Lo’ak, if it means anything, I See you.” Every part of him is fighting to be seen. He is not just the son of Toruk Makto, he is not just a companion to his elder brother. He is Lo’ak. A person in his own right. You See this. He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, doesn’t confirm or deny his belief that your sacred words hold meaning. Instead he falls quiet as if he’s waiting for something. He seems to know what will happen when you return. The shoreline is alight with torches when the two of you arrive. Jake and Neteyam are waiting with them. Lo’ak is lifted from the water by his brother as Jake pulls you up as well. He’s quick to check Lo’ak for injuries.

“He’s fine.” He declares to the crowd gathered around. “Just a few scratches, he’s fine.” And quieter he asks, “What were you thinking?” Lo’ak stares at his father, jaw clenched as he awaits his punishment.

“No.” Tonowari says. “Ao’nung knows better than to go outside the reef. The fault is his.” He pushes his son down to kneel. A look passes between the two boys. Something aside from the usual look of confrontation. There’s a budding understanding between them. Both of them look at you for a moment before Lo’ak raises his chin defiantly.

“I was the one that wanted to go beyond the reef. Ao’nung tried to stop me.” The quick glance is explained as Lo’ak lies to his father, protecting Ao’nung from the shame of being so publicly disciplined. Jake grabs Lo’ak’s wrist and pulls him towards their marui. The men nod to each other and your sister catches your eye, looking between you and Jake as he reaches over to usher you away as well. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to know she’s curious as to how far your relationship with Jake and his children goes. It isn’t a conversation you’re ready to have. The waves of your hair shield your face from her as you follow behind the Sullys. Lo’ak tries to speak before he’s berated further.

“You told me to make friends with these kids. That’s all I’m trying–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake cuts off his defense. “You are a shame to this family.” Lo’ak’s face falls and his gaze shifts to you. You want to reach out and hold him, to comfort him, but he turns away before you can. His stomping strides carry him further down shore, away from his home. Neteyam’s lips press into an irritated line before he goes off after him. It is what Jake expects of his eldest son but Neteyam looks to be exasperated, tired of having to be the one to bridge the gap between his father and brother.

When Jake spoke to his son, the voice of an olo'eyktan replaced that of a father’s. Right now Lo’ak is not his son. He is a warrior that has stepped out of line, defied orders. You stop him from following them with a hand around his wrist, quickly removing it when you realize what you’d done.

There have been small touches between the two of you but never something as direct as this. You are not his mate. It is not your job to soothe his anger or protect his children. You take a half step back, readying to return to your own marui as night settles deeply over the island. Jake’s ears relax as he catches you retreating. Now he grabs your wrist to keep you beside him. He’s still angry. It’s evident in the tensed line of his muscles and the hard set of his jaw. His dark brows are drawn low over his eyes and for a fleeting moment you see Lo’ak in his expression. It pains your heart to see that they are so similar and yet so different.

“He is upset, Jake. You have to see that.” It’s all you can do to defend his son. You look to where they’ve both disappeared to, seeing Ao’nung join them on the beach. You hope this will put an end to the antagonizing between the clan children. When you turn back to him, Jake is already looking at you, anger bleeding from his face the longer he stares. His grip on your wrist, though not harsh, loosens, as his hand slides up your forearm to pull you closer.

“I thought we’d lost him.” He says quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears. You wonder what he sees as he looks at you, if he realizes who you are. “We” he said. As if Lo’ak was his and yours. Perhaps he’d meant his children but the way he holds you says otherwise. “Thought I’d lost you.”

“I can never be lost. The sea is my home.”

“The forest was our home. But home isn’t always safe. When Kiri told me you left alone–” he stops himself from speaking his fears into the air between you. “I can’t do that again. I can’t lose anyone else.” His words are only a whisper, haggard and desperate. He suddenly sounds his age as his thumbs stroke against your arms. Whatever he’s feeling goes far deeper than you had expected.

In the few months since their arrival you’ve spent almost every waking moment with the Sully family. At first you thought it was simple diplomacy outside of your lessons. Befriending the third most important clan member would solidify their standing even if tsahìk did not fully approve of their joining the clan. But Ronal was past her tantrum. She was wary but not completely unkind as she had been upon their arrival. A tenuous thread of understanding has formed between them and you wonder now if that thread is spun by your own hand. If your sister would have tempered herself so soon if not for your open acceptance.

The Sullys accepted you as well, but only now do you realize how open their hearts have truly been.

“I am here. I’m safe. We’re safe.” It’s all you can say as Jake seems to bask in your simple presence. He doesn’t touch you aside from holding your arms in his, though part of you wonders if he wants to move closer. You want to. So desperately do you want to close the distance between the two of you, to lay your head on his shoulder and promise that everything will be alright. But he is not yours to comfort, nor are his children. It is because you are still tsakarem to them that they open their hearts and bear their vitra to you. Slowly, you pull away.

“I am tired. I’ll go first.” You say, head bowed to avoid what you might see in Jake’s eyes. You spare a quick look in the marui and wish you hadn’t. Tuk is sleeping curled up against Kiri, the elder gently cradling her sister’s head as they sleep. It squeezes at your heart. The weight of Jake’s eyes follows as you retreat, ears drooped in reflection of your soured mood. Part of you wants to pray. To visit the Cove of the Ancestors and seek solace in the voices of those that came before you. But what they would tell you is no different than what you already know. Jake had his mate. She is gone but her place will always be in his heart and her memory leaves no room for you. Clinging to the edge of a family that doesn’t need you won’t fill the void of not having your own.

Everyone had given up courting you shortly before Ronal became tsahìk, when Tonowari began sending courting gifts in pairs before choosing your sister. No one wanted to overstep with their future olo'eyktan and now you’re far too old to be courted. Any man that wanted you would’ve made his desire known years ago. So you return to your empty marui to sleep alone, fending off thoughts of the man you wish could be yours.

The avoidance starts small. Instead of joining Jake for your lessons you encourage him to seek out Tonowari to learn to ride a skimwing. As you’d expected he hadn’t been keen on starting with an easily mastered ilu. When the children ask you to teach them you turn them towards Ao’nung and Tsireya. After the Three Brothers incident the relationship between the children seems to have improved. Lo’ak invoked an understanding between him and Ao’nung. One that your tsmuke’itan has not taken lightly. Your days return to how they’d been before the Sullys’ arrival, busying yourself with menial tasks until you’re needed for something. But it only lasts for so long before Tuk finds you feeding the ilu, half of her hair undone from its usual braids as she wades over to you. The water is up to her chin as she pouts at you.

“Sa’nok!” Your heart leaps in your chest at the title but you quickly remind yourself that Na’vi children often call their teachers mother. “Can you help me with my braids? I tried to do it myself but I can’t.”

“I see that.” You say, drawing your fingers through her disheveled hair. She stays to help you feed the ilu, giggling as they carefully snap the fish from her little hands. When your basket is empty you put her on your hip and carry her back to her marui, stopping at your own home to grab your box of hair ornaments and combs. Jake is there when the two of you arrive and you hesitate to enter, mumbling a soft greeting as you pass him. It’s clear on his face that he has something to say but he keeps it to himself, sharpening the spear in his hand with more force than necessary as you undo the rest of Tuk’s braids. She had only taken out a few before deciding to seek help and the loose hair sticks up around her head like sprigs of grass as you try to pick through the tangles she’s caused trying to do it on her own.

“Alright go wash your hair.” You say, patting her shoulders. She jumps to her feet immediately, probably happy for the brief freedom before she’ll be stuck in one place for the long while it will take to braid her hair. As soon as she’s gone Jake tosses aside the spear that’s long since been honed to a perfect point. For a moment both of you only sit, waiting for the other to move. There is nowhere for you to go. If you leave, Tuk will come looking for you again and you’d be right back here to face him one way or another. He stands with the fluidity of a rising wave, ready to crash over you as he walks inside.

“Where have you been?” He asks plainly. From his height his gaze falls over you like cold water and a shiver dances up your spine despite the sunlight still spilling in from outside.

“I have been busy. Did Tonowari not tell you?”

“You didn’t tell me.” He snaps. Behind him his tail sways in tense arcs as he begins pacing. “You can’t just disappear like that.”

“I didn’t disappear. I was busy.” You say again. It does little to calm him.

“If you’re not going to be around, you tell me. Don’t just disappear without saying anything.” His words make you feel like a child being scolded. It wasn’t as if you’d left the reef. If he had simply asked someone would’ve told him where they’d last seen you on any day he might’ve been curious. Whether you were tending to less urgent wounds or helping younglings learn to swim in the shallow tide pools, you never went where you couldn’t be found. Because truthfully you had hoped he would look for you despite your avoidance. Tuk coming to find you had been a blessed excuse to see him without having to go to him with your tail between your legs, ashamed of your own feelings.

“I’m sorry.” He tuts at that, looking away for a moment before he finally kneels before you. He sits staring at the treads of the mat beneath his feet, locs falling over his shoulders before finally looking up. His face is creased with worry, a line gathering between his brows as remorse shines in his eyes.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh I was just worried about you. It went from seeing you everyday to not at all. That–just tell me when you’re not gonna be around, okay? I want to know where you are.” His hand moves to hold your arm like he had when you brought Lo’ak home. His five fingers soothe over the rippling pattern of your skin as you wonder what he was going to say before he stopped himself. His eyes are still full of worry and guilt but there’s a fleeting hint of grief there too. The feeling of wanting to pluck away at his layers surfaces again but you resist the urge to ask. It is not the time nor is it your place. Of course you’ve grown close in the time since his arrival but it isn’t nearly long enough to ask what you want to know, to dig at his wounds when you can’t tell how long they’ve been healed. Whatever is ailing his soul has nothing to do with you no matter your desire to help soothe the spiritual pain. It is in your nature but if he wanted help he’d ask and the words have yet to leave his mouth.

Even still something has shifted between the two of you. These gentle touches feel different than before. This isn’t guiding or teaching; this is purely for the sake of closeness as the two of you sit in heavy silence. So many words linger inside you, almost being spoken yet never leaving your lips. It isn’t until Tuk returns with sun-dried hair that you part. Jake says something about returning spears to Tonowari, not turning to face you and his daughter as she climbs into your lap.

The last bead is finally threaded into her hair just in time to send her off with her brothers when they come to fetch her, saying something about visiting the Cove of the Ancestors. It’s nearly eclipse but the floating mountains and glowing trees always look most beautiful when the sun is hidden. You take your time to clean up the mess made while fixing Tuk’s hair. She’d rooted through your entire collection of beads and ornaments, picking her favorites. She’d been excited to show her brothers, bragging about how she had pretty shells mixed into her hair, too. It was endearing to see her so happy to be wearing part of your clan’s traditional dress even if it was something small.

“You’re still here.” Jake says as you set the last comb back into the box. He sounds relieved.

“I only just finished with Tuk’s hair. She left with Neteyam and Lo’ak as soon as I was done. I’ll leave now.”

“You don’t have to. Stay and eat with me.” He says, gesturing to the food set out. Someone had brought another meal to feed the Sullys while you braided Tuk’s hair. She was happy to sit still while she was eating, no longer squirming with childish impatience as you worked. There is still enough food left for the rest of the family and Jake hands you a portion before you can refuse. Your fingers brush his as you take it from him and it makes you linger for a beat longer. In the gentle silence of your shared meal you finally gain the courage to ask one of the question you’ve been wondering about since you first met Jakesully.

“What was it like riding toruk?” There have been only six riders since the time of the First Songs and here is one of them before you. You try to keep the awe from your voice. While riding toruk is a feat of legends it is only done in times of great strife. Jake wasn’t Toruk Makto because he simply wanted to be. It is a great responsibility that he took on. One that easily could’ve led to his death had he failed. And surely many had failed before.

“Terrifying,” he decides, laughing humorlessly. “Riding him was different than riding an ikran. There was so much at stake. And knowing what it meant to ride him, that power and what I needed it for; that was terrifying.” He laughs again, a small chuckle but it doesn’t sound as empty this time. “That’s the first time I’ve ever admitted that to anyone.”

“That you were afraid?” He nods. “I don’t fault your fear, Jake. Even the mightiest warriors feel scared sometimes. There was much to lose in that battle. The whole of Pandora would’ve mourned the loss of the Tree of Souls. That was a heavy burden for you to carry but you succeeded.” He nods. He’s heard you but it does not seem like he believes your words.

“Have I?” He mutters softly, so softly that you wonder if he meant to say them at all. But before you can ask Neteyam’s voice rings through the hush of the night. The rest of the children follow him, kneeling just outside the marui as Neteyam gently lays Kiri down. She isn’t moving and the light that should be glowing brightly in the darkness is dim beneath her skin.

“What happened?” You ask, already moving to check over her. She is breathing but her eyes don’t open when you lift her arm. Her muscles feel tense beneath your fingers, tightening when you try to move her even slightly.

“We were all connected to the Spirit Tree but Kiri started shaking and then she stopped moving. She wouldn’t wake up.” Tsireya is close to tears as she clings to Lo’ak’s arm. His face is set in a harsh frown but his fear is evident in his eyes. They all look scared and Tuk cries as she clings to her father. Jake holds her tightly as he looks to you for help.

“Go get your mother.” You say to Tsireya but Jake stops her.

“No. You are here. You’re tsakarem. Help her.” He says. “Please.” His eyes are pleasing as he cradles Tuk to his chest, kneeling beside you once more. If he trusts you to do it then you will care for his daughter.

Her heart beat is slow as you press your ear to her chest, and her breath rattles with the familiar sound of drowned lungs. That is easily fixed. It is one of the first things you learned to heal. With two fingers you draw sweeping lines from her waist up to her chest then from her neck down to her heart before blowing air against her navel. It takes a few passes before her lungs open and she coughs up the water. She doesn’t wake as you dry her face but her heartbeat sounds stronger and her breathing comes easier. Her body is less tense as you try to move her arms again but she is still twitching almost imperceptibly.

“She will sleep. I can’t say when she’ll wake. If she isn’t awake by morning I will call for Ronal.” Jake nods and lays Tuk down beside her. The little one has tired herself out with tears, cheeks still wet as she curls up next to her sisters.

“You two return home.” You expected Tsireya to be slow to part with Lo’ak but even Rotxo seems to hesitate in leaving. A true bond has been made between all of them and you are glad to see that the Omatikaya children are finally being treated with Metkayina respect and care.

“Come.” Jake grabs your wrist as you pass him to take the children home.

“Come back?” It’s a question. Desperation is clear in his tone as he stares into your eyes. He’s terrified. You can see it in his eyes. The fear of a father who can do nothing to protect his child. There’s no enemy to fight, no battle to win. Whatever has harmed Kiri is intangible and the feeling of futility shines in his eyes. You nod, and slowly he lets you go. It feels as if he’s uncertain about letting you leave at all. But you do, taking Rotxo to his parents and Tsireya to hers.

“Do not mention Kiri. I don’t want to worry your mother needlessly. If she has not improved by morning then I will call for her help.” They nod and Tsireya hugs you before entering their marui, sitting down quietly next to her brother.

“Tsmuke,” Ronal says when she sees you.

“You are growing.” A small smile finds its way to your face as you take in how much her stomach has grown in the time since Jakesully’s arrival. The two of you have been apart for the long weeks, months, since the Sully family joined the clan. At first it was stubbornness. Neither of you wanted to admit that the other was right as you took opposing views of the displaced family. Now it is simply the duty of teaching them. Ronal has the clan to tend to as you worry over the newcomers. She had no time for them and so she had no time for you, either.

“Is he waiting for you to come home?” She asks when you finally turn to leave. You pause in your retreat but don’t turn around. Your home is not with Jakesully. Every night you leave to return to your own lonely marui. And Ronal knows this.

“That is what I thought.” She says after a moment, likely seeing the way your body has sagged in the wake of her question. Your tail has stilled and your ears have fallen flat against your head, though that at least is hidden by your hair. When you turn, fists clenched, she is already going inside. It’s a game you’ve both played since you were young. If she turns before you leave you’ll know if her words were meant to be as scathing as they sounded, but she holds firm. Her eyes stay hidden. Not sitting or turning before you lose patience and storm away. It could’ve been a simple question, but if she meant to insult your interest in a mated man she has done it.

As if you don’t already know that your feelings are wrong. This budding desire is as useful as putting a single drop of water on a fire. You’ll burn away and turn to steam and he’ll burn on, unbothered by your infatuation. Whatever comfort he’s seeking from you now is that of a friend. It has to be because you won’t let your heart consider that he could feel something more. He had his mate. She might’ve joined Eywa before her time but she was his and he was hers. There was nothing you could do to change that.

The boys are asleep by the time you return and Jake is sitting with his feet in the water, eyes trained on the horizon. He looks up at your approach and you watch as his shoulders relax in relief.

“I thought you forgot about us.” The words you want to say are too much for this quiet moment so you simply shake your head as you sit down next to him.

“I called in some old friends. They’re going to come look at Kiri in the morning.” You look at him questioningly. Neteyam had said that the ride to Awa’atlu took many days. No clan could spare their tsahìk for that long. Not even for Toruk Makto.

“Friends?”

He nods, “Human friends. The ones that stayed when the skypeople left.” It’s an instinctual response to hiss at that. You feel yourself bare your teeth before you can gather your feelings. Jake was human once. If he trusted them to treat his daughter then you could trust them to be near your clan. But there is still a piece of you that loathes the thought of tawtute coming to your home. He doesn’t rebuff your harsh response, only reaching to run his thumb over the back of your hand. You want to flip your palm upward, to catch his hand in yours. It would be strange to hold his hand. You can’t thread your fingers as you would with anyone else but his hand is strong, comforting. Your grip tightens on the edge of the path overhanging the water to keep from acting on the thought.

The humans arrive soon after sunrise, stirring up more clouds of sand as their strange, black ikran descends from the sky. It isn’t truly an ikran but you aren’t sure what else to call the strange ship.

“Keep them back.” Jake instructs before moving towards the thing still stirring the beach. The small crowd gathered is happy to comply as you usher them away from the loud, buzzing thing. A dreamwalker steps out in his human garbs, though there are pieces of the Omatikaya decorating him as well. A necklace, an armband, even a knife across his chest like a proper warrior. And his feet are bare. The second man to leave the buzzing beast is human. His face is covered in a clear mask and he wears no Na’vi adornments. They all speak in frantic tones before they take what they need from the strange, hollow beast and start following Jake. He catches you by the elbow as he passes, a clear sign for you to join them. They’re watched by everyone that they pass and the human is the first to duck inside the marui, seemingly glad to be in a somewhat hidden space. He greets the children before Jake sends them away. They only go as far as being out of the way, standing vigilant just outside the open flap. You wish to join them but Jake pulls you with him as they begin their human treatment.

Kiri is not like you. You know this. It’s plain to see in her five fingers and the low placement of her tswin. She has part of the skypeople in her, but she’s spoken so freely of her mother in the time she’s spent with you. She wasn’t Jake’s mate but his friend. A woman that taught the Omatikaya children about earth and learned about Pandora in turn. She treasures Eywa’eveng just as any Na’vi does. She was careful and curious and she gave her life trying to help Jake protect it. It’s no wonder she gave birth to someone so in tune with the Great Mother. Grace. Kìreysì.

The human and the dreamwalker fret over Kiri, seemingly making no progress as the three of them speak in their human language. It means nothing to you though, your ears only able to find your own name amid the flurry of foreign sounds. The children seem more in tune with the conversation, ears twitching as they listen just outside the marui. After so long with Kiri not so much as flinching as they move and poke at her with sharp needles you stand to leave. The tiny man looks up from his strange, bright and moving plate. It glows against his brown skin but it isn’t a glow that you’re used to. It seems too bright, too harsh. Unnatural. He looks just as uncomfortable as you feel but you can’t be sure. There’s nothing to see in his brown eyes beneath the two masks he wears.

“I am going to get Ronal.” Jake calls after you but you’ve already decided. His friends have done nothing but make noise around her. Ronal will see to whatever is harming her, quicker than they ever could. You find her in the healing tent, working over the back of a young hunter.

“He was met with an akula.” She says as you watch her cover the long gashes along his back with a healing salve.

“Kiri needs you.” Her hand pauses at your words.

“What is wrong?”

“She was shaking uncontrollably last night while at the Spirit Tree. She swallowed water.”

“You can heal her easily.” She concedes.

“I have cleared the water from her lungs but she hasn’t woken up. Whatever made her convulse is still inside her. I’m not knowledgeable enough to help.” Ronal clicks her tongue at that.

“Whatever I know, you know.” She sighs when you don’t leave. “I will be there as soon as I am done here.” You nod and leave her to her work, returning to the Sully marui.

“What are they saying?” You ask Neteyam.

“He doesn’t know.” Lo’ak says, satisfaction clear in his tone. “I am better at English than him.”

“Then what are they saying?” His smug attitude fades immediately.

“They don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Hah!” You growl. None of the children react but the two outsiders look up at you. The dreamwalker only looks confused but the human flinches as if there’d been a threat in your frustrated tone. Jake looks at you for a moment before holding out a hand for you to join him.

“Where’s your sister?” You wrinkle your nose at him. Jake has always had a slight accent, tongue still failing to perfect certain words with the ease of a child taught since birth. His children don’t carry his same inflections but if you had noticed it before it’s disturbingly prominent now. It strips away a bit of him, revealing the man he used to be beneath it. Human, dreamwalker. Part of you wants to know that side of him to better understand the man he is today but then your eyes trail wearily to the strange things that now fill the marui with lights and sound and it suddenly feels too overwhelming to ask. Ronal arrives as Jake speaks to his friends, looking between the three men before her eyes land on you.

“I see that I am not needed.” You’re on your feet in an instant, snatching up her arm before she can leave.

“You are tsahìk.” She understands your words, your trust in her and hesitancy towards the foreign men. In this matter you stand with her in a shared distrust. Whatever they are doing is not helping. But this is what tsahìk does. She stares at you for a moment, eyes uneasy.

“Remove these things.” She says it to you but her voice is loud and unflinching, though it’s doubtful the human understands her.

“Out!” You hiss when they do not move away from Kiri.

The dreamwalker moves first, then Jake says something in his human tongue to get the other man to listen. They work quickly in the shadow of you and your sister, leaving Kiri to be properly cared for. Tuk runs in as soon as they pass her, hand grabbing yours as Ronal sets her healing tools beside Kiri. She asks for the tent to be closed off, all of you keenly aware of the two outsiders standing just beyond the open marui. This is not something for them to witness. Jake complies, leaving the three of you inside with Kiri as he closes the flap. Ronal looks over Kiri, mumbling a prayer to herself as she does the same as you did last night. She moves her limbs, testing her body as she tries to find what is harming it. When she does she goes to work immediately. Her tools aren’t strange. They are pieces of your everyday life. She doesn’t pierce her skin as they had, and doesn’t need their strange glowing and noise to work. She calls on the Great Mother to guide her as she begins to heal the child.

It takes much time and you begin to sing a working song to fill the tense air and cover the sound of the human words coming from outside. It doesn’t distract Ronal as you sing about the ocean and Eywa. It’s a song meant for fishing, for working on the great seawall terraces, for weaving clothes, and sharpening weapons. It’s an idle song to fill the time and you sing it quietly as Ronal works, blowing great gusts of air against Kiri’s skin. With one last exhale like a great tulkun’s breath she sits back heavily as Kiri begins to shift. You’re at the child’s side in an instant, brushing her hair from her face as Tuk takes her hand. Her eyes are barely open before she begins to cry.

Her hand reaches out for you as she finally recognizes your face above her, wanting to be held as your sister collects her things. Ronal rests a hand on your head as Kiri hugs you, Tuk worming in between your bodies. There is meaning in your sister’s touch that doesn’t need to be said with words. Take care of her, her touch says, before she leaves. You watch her go and she glares at the outsiders as she passes but as soon as she does Jake is moving to gather the three of you into his arms.

“Thank you, Great Mother.” You whisper against Kiri’s hair. Whatever has happened she is awake now. She will heal. It takes a long while before she is comforted enough to let go. She sits quietly, picking at the food Tsireya brought for her. The children fill the marui, all seven of them crowded together as they try to rouse Kiri from her low spirits. It leaves you outside with Jake and his strange friends. Jake introduces you and you’re surprised to hear their names. Norm the dreamwalker and Max the human. These are things you can say easily. Jake’s name still sounds a bit strange on your tongue, the sound of it just as complex as Grace’s name had been when Kiri first taught you. Their names sound rounded to start, but your tongue wants to make a sharper sound. But Norm and Max. These sounds you know.

“May the Great Mother smile upon our first meeting.” Norm says, gesturing towards you. «I See you.» Max says something in his human tongue–English, Lo’ak called it–but you just tilt your head. You can’t understand him any more than you understand a chittering ilu.

“He said it’s nice to meet you.” Jake says, laughing at whatever look of confusion has crossed your face. You nod but say nothing. Soon they go back to speaking their human words but Jake keeps you close to him with his arm hooked over yours. So you sit, listening but not understanding. Finally they say something that seems to upset Jake. His ears fall as he sighs, and his hand finally finds yours. There’s defeat in his eyes when he looks at you after hearing what his friends had to say. Defeat and longing you realize as his hand tightens around yours. If he wants to say something he doesn’t. Instead he nods resolutely and rises to walk the outsiders back to their hollow ikran. You meant to ask what it was called but the thought is easily lost as you turn towards the children.

It is near to eclipse and the sun is a bright crescent of firelight in the sky, casting an orange glow over them. They’re gathered in a tight circle, like a braided cord. Shoulders touching and tails sweeping against each other. Lo’ak has Tsireya’s arm, Ao’nung and Neteyam are sharing in their own conversation, and Tuk has tucked herself under Rotxo’s arm, still clinging to her sister’s hand. Kiri’s face is still troubled but she doesn’t look as upset as she had when she first woke. You imagine it will be long before she returns to herself. It doesn’t seem like they’ll be eager to leave so you take it upon yourself to feed them.

“How is the girl?” Ronal asks when you join her at the cooking fire. Women of the clan are gathered here, talking amongst themselves as they prepare dinner. Many hands are needed to feed so many people and they smile upon your arrival.

“Awake and well enough. The children have been keeping her company since she woke.”

“That is good.” She nods, passing you leaves to wrap the fish you’ve cooked. The two of you work in tandem as you had before Jakesully’s arrival upset the balance of Awa’atlu. Or perhaps it’s only you that’s been so upended by the man and his family. You’ve missed moments like this with your sister. They’d been lost after you set yourself as her opposition before the clan. Her acceptance was reluctant and eased by the will of her mate. But things have simmered since and Ronal has quelled her distaste for the family.

“You are close to her,” Ronal says carefully, blowing the flame off a roasted bit of meat. “She will be more comfortable if you look after her. I can’t say what happened, but it was something terrible. The whole of her spirit was upset by it.” She speaks quieter now, strong voice suddenly lost in the din of gossiping women. “If something more happens you have seen how I healed her. It will be your responsibility.”

“My responsibility? I am not tsahìk. This is a matter for the will of Eywa.” Your voice is a sharp whisper.

“You say this as if we do not know the same things. The Great Mother speaks just as clearly to you, tsmuke. It is because I am tsahìk that I am entrusting the health of a child of our clan to you. Any mother of Awa’atlu would do the same. You know this. Stop questioning yourself.” She snaps. Ronal has never been one for kindness based on familial ties. She treats you as any other member of the clan when the need arises. You aren’t above reproach. She frowns at you, before venting her anger into the food in her hand. With a jerk of her head in the direction you came from she dismisses you. The last of the food she’s made goes in the basket on your hip as you leave.

“Sa’tsmuke,” Tsireya announces you when you set down the food. Your niece’s dimpled smile lights up her face as laughter greets your arrival. Even Kiri has a small smile on her lips. It’s a relief to see. Jake still hasn’t returned but you try not to dwell on his absence. They continue their happy conversation as the night grows darker until it tapers off into quiet mumbles and stifled yawns. The Sully children settle down for the night and Tsireya is nearly asleep as you detangle her from between Kiri and Lo’ak. She clings to you the same as she had when she was small as you put her on your back. Her face nuzzles against your hair as you see everyone home. The oversight isn’t necessary. There’s no danger in walking alone even in the darkness but you enjoy these small moments of borrowed motherhood.

But when you return to your empty home once more your heart feels hollow. The feeling has plagued you for weeks, marked with the arrival of the Sully family. The loneliness hadn’t bothered you so much before. The clan has many unmated men and women. Finding a mate can take years and you always assumed you’d bloom into love later than most. And when the time for mating seemed to pass you accepted your status as a singular woman. Now it feels as though there is something missing. Like a chip in your knife that you hadn’t noticed before. The dull ache of it plagues you as you try to sleep, trying to ignore the whispers carrying on the balmy breeze.

If this pain is the Great Mother trying to tell you something you choose to ignore it. Jakesully has mated before her. He belongs to someone else. No matter the circumstances he’s found himself in now; without his mate and far from his home, nothing but friendship can be shared between the two of you.

Even as your heart squeezes painfully in your chest you resign yourself to the dull ache. These feelings are yours alone. You’ll just have to accept the pain of longing for a heart you can never hold.

ɴᴀ’ᴠɪ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

Oel ngati kameie – I See you

Tsakarem – tsahìk-in-training

Uturu – sanctuary

Tawtute – skypeople

Sa’tsmuke – aunt, mother’s sister (speculative)

Tsmuke’itan – nephew, sister’s son (speculative)

Naranawm – Polyphemus, the planet Pandora orbits

Vitra – spirit, soul

Tsmuke – sister

Tawtute – skypeople

Tswin – neural braid

Eywa’eveng – Pandora

#jake sully x reader #sully family x reader #avatar x reader #avatar #atwow

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mist-see · 1 year

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You don’t deserve mercy.

quaritch vs na’vi reader

After months of grieving your loved one, Neteyam, you hear gun shots. You found out spider saved his father. You make sure that he’s dead this time.

I love violence.

I have no beef for spider, he’s a good kid.

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Graphic descriptions of death, cursing, blood, the anger of losing someone, murder, and normalize women being pissed angry, violent angry. I felt like I could’ve gotten way more graphic, but for the sake of not wanting to get in trouble, I mellowed it down.

“I will bite your ear off and feed it to my ikran!” You bared your teeth, your four canines sharp and long, blood covering them as one of the ski people busted your lip before hand. Quaritch just laughs in your face.

Your anger amused him. Mostly because he knew he was going to die. It was a laughter of disappointment and rage, he was going to die, and he only got to kill one of the sullies. How pathetic of himself.

“Don’t bother having conversation with me, either kill me or get killed, we got this island surrounded with avat-ar!” Your red eyes widen, 3 sharp nails digging their way into the skin of the old man’s neck, breaking the skin.

You were strong, stronger than the na’vis they fought. You were a freak of nature, a hybrid as your mother was from the clan of ashes, father from the Omatikaya clan.

He’s read about your kind, your mother, a leader before she married outside her clan. Your anatomy was different from the rest, made you tough, but not invincible .

At this moment you were thousands of feet in the air, above the deep water it took months for you to learn. Your ikran was stable and your arrow deep inside the gut of the person who killed your Neteyam. “Do not hesitate Y/N, kill him before he kills someone else!”

Jake watches from afar, feet planted on his skimwing and emptied gun gripped in his hand.

You’re growled at this, causing another choked laugh to leave the avatars mouth. “Don’t bother.”

“Uh!-“ you gasped. The sound was brutal, the noise of the knife digging into your gut. You breath hitched, suddenly being able to taste, and smell your blood so clearly.

Tears prickling your eyes as you felt the army knife shift in your stomach. He didn’t take the arrow to his stomach lightly you suppose. Your ikran screeched, the connection between the two of you strong. She starts losing her balance, the knife you took causing her to feel it. The knife only went deeper from the movement.

How could you be so stupid? So naive to think it would be an easy job. “Weak. Just like that poor son of a bitch that came from that tree monkey down in the ocean.”

“Y/N!” Jake screamed through your ear piece as he watched your legs buckle, but never completely giving.

You would never kneel below this colonizing creature.

Quaritch heard it Crystal clear, having stole Neytiris ear piece awile ago.

“I will not die here. I will not die by the hands… of some foul demon who wants to live like us. To breathe- our air. I won’t!” You clinched your teeth, knees weak as you gripped the knife that pierced your large intestines. With a scowl, the man watched as you slowly remove the knife.

It wasn’t the size as a normal knife, no, it was bigger, meant to fit the hands of an army veteran that changed species.

Disgust on his face, he hissed, but your hand was still tight on his neck, never wavering, only getting tighter. His neck bled from the holes you made.

You stared deep into his eyes, his face close to yours, he could feel your chess grumble with a growl as the knife left you. “You can’t be that stupid kid. You’ll bleed out before you could do anything.”

“Don’t underestimate a true na’vi, demon. I am not weak. And neither was Neteyam.” Before he could even struggle to get out of your grip, you slammed him against your Ikrans back, this made her screech in complaint, her wings loosing control from the connection of your queue. she could feel everything you felt.

“If I die, Eywa will reunite me with my Neteyam. You, will go to hell, burning like the demon you are.” You hissed in his face, large blue foot pushing the arrow into his stomach more, causing him to scream.

“I will cause you to suffer.” You growled through your teeth, bloodied hands tying your rope from the end of the arrow, then forcing him to turn to his side. You grunted in pain. “Fat fuck, heavy- like the chains that will be dragging your down to your fate.” You clinched your teeth, ignoring the screams from the weak man below you as you pushed the arrow through him, until it exited his back.

“AHH- you- bITCH!” He yelled in a foreign language, assuming it was English, you scoffed. “You see us as the villain. I will kill you as such. Right in front of your traitor son who left you alive!” This caused his smaller eyes to widen, but you already tied the rope at the start of the arrow.

“Y/N- where are you- are you okay?!” Lo’ak spoke through his ear piece, out of breath. “Lo’ak! Where are you?!” Jake was quick to respond back, gun now in the ocean as he road his skimwing as fast as he could to the shore. “With mom-“

“Take her to Ronal and quickly get to y/n, she’s been stabbed!” “What?!” They yelled in your ear, but you were only focused on one thing. Revenge.

“She-ri!” You gripped onto your ikran, sending her to go above the beach, the same one you and the sullies arrived on.

You will drop him, the rope held tight in your ikrans jaws. You will rip him to shreds, the arrow more than strong enough to hold his weight, to almost rip him in half, before ending his demise.

“Just-just kill me- don’t have to- to scare the boy like that- please!” He begged, grunting from the uneven flight path She-ri flew. Poor girl was in pain, she didn’t deserve to suffer when you did.

It would be over soon.

Grabbing the old man by his braid, making his seize up in pain.

You grit your teeth, blood leaking down your stomach, soaking your loincloth as you lifted him up.

“See him demon? How confused he is, looking for his so called family, looking for you.” You whispered in his ear, red eyes glaring down at the human as he looked around the beach, not knowing where to go, what to do.

“Don’t-do this.” His voice cracked, but you didn’t care, anger, rage and pain going through you.

“You cannot protect him now. This is for the sullys. For- my love.” Tears went down your cheeks as you remembered the last breath he took, the last time his heart beat.

He was gone. And now his killer is as well.

The knife that was covered in your blood, tight in your hold. “You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Guys?! Guys?!” Spider looks around frantically, ear piece smashed yet he still tried to get some kind of connection.

Thump!

Woosh Woosh Woosh…

The human flinched from the sound, head whipping back, only to see something he wished he didn’t. Spider looks up, eyes following the loud noise of the ikran wings. The one who dropped the vet off. But it was already gone in the distance, with no one on its back as it looked for its next victim.

“Sir?…” He called out, but he knew there wasn’t any use, there wasn’t any point in calling out to the man that didn’t raise him. He could see the arrow was ripped throughout his back, the rope bloodied. But he was still his father.

“Hey… Sir!” He yelled out, naked feet hitting the hot sand as he ran to the man.

Spider grunts as he turns the sky person over, only to see a knife through his head.

Part 2>>>>>>

#avatar quaritch #quaritch x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar angst #avatar the way of water #avatar spoilers #spider sully #jake sully #jake sully x y/n

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roxynmae · 1 year

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Spider and the Ash People

A big thanks to @fictionramblings, this is the result of our brainstorming!

From what we already know the Ash People behave differently from what we’ve seen up until now. Apparently they have an antagonist behaviour towards the other tribes. It’s also relevant that in the comic books we are told that there’s a tribe who is known to accept outcasts and it might be them.

Ash is the symbol of death and penitence just as it’s the symbol of purification and rebirth. Aspects very fitting to a tribe that openly accepts those who were shunned by their people.

Eywa is used in many ways by the Na’vi we encountered and one is basically a moral compass. Eywa is tradition over progress, her three laws are what keep the Na’vi stuck in what by Earth’s standards would be a Palaeolithic epoch.

Actively seeking a knowledge outside of what is permitted could be one of the common factors in the shunning of these people, making them resentful towards this deity and reject her.

Taking into account the rejection of Eywa opens up a lot of possibilities.

Like for example their own coming of age ritual, they could be burning off their queues. This means that in order to use animals for transportation they would have to actually tame and domesticate them. Their rejection of the laws of Eywa permits them to advance technologically and I see them being fascinated with what the humans have to offer, or maybe see them as useful for their own agenda.

Here enters Spider, he’s human but able to communicate perfectly with them, he knows how to use human technology and most importantly he wants to be accepted by the Na’vi. Let’s say that after the Sully discover he saved Quaritch he ends up running away or gets shunned and meets with this tribe. He would have a chance to actually be part of the People as they are already accepting of outcasts and have an interest in having a Human between them for the aforementioned reasons and negotiating with the RDA. Not only that, but their burning of the queue and taming animals means he has the possibility of being the rider of the warrior mount this tribe uses. One could say that in the Ash clan he is Seen by the People. And he would be able to gain actual agency over his life. Spider could also be taking up a role as ambassador/ intermediary for negotiations.

Now if this was the case it would also make for a great reunion ground between him and Quaritch, as they would be standing basically as equals.

#let me know if you want more of this #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #na’vi avatar #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #avatar spider #avatar quaritch #miles quaritch #ash people #jake sully #neytiri #recom quaritch #avatar rda #avatar theory

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mylesimeblr · 6 months

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Aged Up: after everyone learned Spider saved Quaritch (who goes on to lead the ash tribes) and kick Spider out as a traitor, but Spider joins the ash tribe as Tsahik, and comes back years later to help the other tribes when they beg for the Ash clans help. Whom ever is paired in this ship, Mets the ash Na’vi that Varang wants to Spider to mate with.

I just love the idea of this with any of the pairs, Aocorro, Locorro or Nocorro.

Ok, I love this one and funny enough I was currently writing a Locorro/Aocorro story aged up future fic with Spider as a (very, very badass) Dragonborn/Mother of Dragons and FUNNY enough too they were actually based on red-skinned Na'vi (were you in my head?!) (I'm not kidding I'm 10 pages into this already!)

However, it was kind of dark (honestly, I based it on Game of Thrones so Spider is not having a good time at the beginning then he becomes basically a God leading all the Na'vi tribes against the human cities and Lo'ak and Aonung live alone to serve him)

But based on this ask, here's how it goes:

After Spider is kicked out, he struggles to survive alone in the wild and after weeks of surviving on his own, he's found by red-skinned Na'vi

At first, they're really not friendly and more or less happy stuff happen to Spider with the clan before they discover he has a gift and strange connection to Ewya when saving Varang from near death and Spider becomes one of their own, his strange humanity/power making him unique and very respected

Time skip - rumors start running of a powerful Tsahik rising in the south

When things start getting complicated with the Sky People, Jake and Tonowari have no choice but to ask for their help and the help of their powerful Tsahik

Varang accepts on the condition that their fiercest warrior mates with the tsahik

Everyone agrees even if Lo'ak is a little reluctant at being mated by "force" with some girl he doesn't know (or so he thinks) - he never bounded with Tsireya because he actually doesn't like girls but has yet to accept it

And then a few days later, the delegation of the Ash tribe arrives with the Tsahik and surprise, surprise!! It's actually Spider, older, super beautiful and Lo'ak is very, very confused because that's his bro and at the same time, it's not and damn, he's supposed to mate with his bro?!!!

Aonung finds his confusion funny and proposes to do the mating himself because he's really, really ok with this and Lo'ak glares at him

Spider has changed a lot, he's still much smaller, but he has an aura of power that keeps everyone frozen on their spot and he's very confident

Everyone is shocked, Neytiri doesn't know what to think, she's both lost between compulsory respect and disgust because a human cannot be a Tsahik, Jake is completely taken aback by Spider's apparition, Aonung is instantly smitten and Lo'ak realizes that he's actually been in love with Spider his entire life

This isn't exactly your prompt, but here's an extract of the story I was writing similar to your plot:

After Spider disappeared, all those years ago, he thought he’d never see him again. He thought him dead and he mourned him deeply. In silence. He wasn’t even aware of the true nature of his feelings for the boy back then. His brother. How this makes him laugh now! Spider was never a brother. But it took him years to realize it.

He did hear the rumors and the formidable tales of a growing power in the south, far, far from their village. He heard the rumors of the Dragonborn and the mighty warrior who bounded with the Chief of the tribe and gave birth to the Dragons World.

But like many, he thought this was a Na’vi woman and from the sanctity of his life with the Metkianya people, he paid it no heed.

Then, this mighty warrior, this mother of Dragons was said to be a human. He was intrigued but there was no interest piqued.

Anonung left to find this warrior, this human who he wanted to meet and challenge.

And finally, the rumor made this human a man and Lo’ak’s interest was piqued. Not to mention that Aonung never returned from his encounter with this human he wanted to best and conquer.

When he finally realized that this God - arose Khaleesi - was his dear, long gone Spider. He was shocked at first - his mother was furious, she hated him and all humans after Neteyam’s death - but he knew he had to join him and see for himself who this Khaleesi really was - if it really was his Spider. He rode day and night on his Ikran to Merene where the Dragonborn was said to have built the beginning of a Kingdom.

He had expected many things upon this first reunion, anticipated emotions and looks based on his now feeble memory of what the boy was like. But nothing could have prepared him for the absolute perfection that was the Dragonborn. And he pledged himself to him on the day of their reunion and for the days to come.

He wasn’t the only one who lived only to adore him. Aonung had long lost himself to a passion he could never quell. And Lo’ak remembered the rumors that did portray Khaleessi with a beauty that could not be resisted. He had seduced the dangerous Chief of the most primitive Na’vi tribe after all. And from their union, three dragons were born. A miraculous birth. A prophecy fulfilled.

His feelings for Spider were already strong. But when he saw him in his glory on that Throne, he felt his soul sip from the pores of his skin and air leave his lungs. It was more than physical perfection. It was an aura of absolute Power. A beauty and a strength that transcended everything.

#miles spider socorro #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #aonung #nocorro #locorro #avatar the way of water

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normspellsman · 1 year

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Deja Vu

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!tawkami!reader

genre: angst

word count: 2k+

warning(s): sibling death, mention of fatal wound, & mentions of violence

word bank: sempul — father, tsmukan — brother, tsmuke — sister, kehe — no, yawntu — beloved, eywa/great mother — goddess deity the na’vi believe in, & oel ngati kameie — i see you

note: another writer had posted something similar to this way before i did (except w/ neteyam i think) & i was inspired to create something similar. if you know their user, please comment it so i can give them the proper inspiration creds! kelu is your brother in this fic. i wrote this within an hour and a half so it might be shitty even if i proofread it twice lol.

Fire and ash was the only thing you could see. Soot covering your azure skin as you mindlessly walked around your beloved burning home. Nearly everything that you grew up around and knew was halfway burned to the ground. Nothing but burnt stumps left behind.

The moments that led to your current situation was of the Sky Peoples making.

They had tracked down the Sullys from their home clan, ambushing yours, burning and slaughtering everything and everyone in sight.

Your Sempul had ordered you to get the remaining children in sight to safety and away from your clan's Home Tree. Everything after that was a blur. You had gotten the children away to safety, running back to aid your Sempul in fighting against the evil that was invading your home. But only found fire and ash in the place where you last seen your Sempul. A million dreadful thoughts clouded your mind as you desperately looked and shouted for your beloved family.

It wasn’t until you saw the familiar armband of your only brother that seized you in your steps and caused your heart to fall into the pit of your stomach.

“Tsmukan…?” You called out, frozen in your spot, watching if the body in front of you shifted or made any movement. Please, Great Mother, please, you thought.

A barely audible groan reached your ears, causing your feet to move faster than your thoughts, gathering your little brother in your arms as you gently clutched him to your chest.

“Kelu,” you breathed out, wiping away the soot from his beautiful azure skin. Your heart began to ache as the seconds passed by and nothing came from his lips.

“Tsmuke,” Kelu responded, moving half an inch closer to your chest, craving your body's warmth as his rapidly disappeared, “Don’t cry”.

You didn’t even realize tears began to fall from your waterline, dryly chuckling at his response, stroking underneath your brother's cheekbone in comfort, for the both of you.

Kelu had a tendency to say that whenever he could see that you were visibly upset because if you cried, so did he. He was always an emotional child growing up and seeing his older sister upset and cry made him upset and cry as well. He cares for you so much. More than you would ever get to know.

“I’m sorry, tsmukan, I can’t help it,” you replied, refusing to look at the wound at the base of your brother's ribcage, knowing that if you did you’d only sob harder.

“I love you,” Kelu whispered, using the last of his strength to put his own hand over yours that gently laid on his cheek, “Do not be sad. I will always be with you,”. His hand moved from your cheek to your the left of your chest, right above your heart.

That phrase was the last thing you expected your brother's last words to be. In fact, you never thought that your brother's last words would be directed to you. You’d hope that by the time his time came, you’d be long gone by then, waiting in the afterlife with open arms to welcome him.

You let out a choked sob as he finally relaxed into your grasp and fell limp against it, his eyes slightly glazing over as they remained on your face.

“Kehe,” you choked out, beginning to rock back and forth, “Kelu! Please!”.

You shook him a couple of times, trying to rouse him so you’d have some more time with him. But he didn’t stir.

Silence had spread over multiple beats, the sounds of crackling fire and distant sobs being the only source of noise that echoed throughout the forest.

The realization and acceptance that your only brother had passed away in your arms had settled itself into your brain and chest, making your, unfortunately, still beating heart ache from grief.

Kelu was only thirteen years old when he passed, barely experienced life. He hadn’t even completed his Iknimya, only starting it months ago.

You brought your deceased brother closer to your chest and kissed his ashened hair before placing your forehead onto his cold one.

You held so much love for your brother that you carved a special piece into your heart to harbor it. It had been immediately filled the day he was born, when you had held him in your arms and he had gripped his tiny hand around your forefinger. You promised to protect and love him no matter what from that day forward. But it looked like you had broken that promise, even if it was out of your control.

Sobs wracked your entire body as you rocked back and forth on your knees in order to comfort yourself. You had a tight grip on your deceased brother as you did so, afraid that if you let go, the ground was going to open up and swallow his body whole, Eywa taking him back into her grasp.

“(Y/N)!” a familiar deep voice called out, anxiety laced inside their voice.

Every fiber in your being stilled at the voice. You knew who it was and you didn’t want to see him. The one who was responsible for this grief. The death of your brother. The death of some of your clanspeople. The death of your once beating heart. And, still, the one that you loved.

“Go away,” you demanded, tightening your hold on your brother further, continuing your previous actions of rocking back and forth gently.

“Yawntu,” he softly said, kneeling down beside you, placing his five fingered hand onto your shoulder.

“Kehe! No, Lo’ak. Go away!” you hissed out, whipping your head towards the boy next to you, baring your sharp fangs at the teen. “This is all your fault!” You added on, glaring at him.

A flash of hurt came across Lo’ak’s face, slightly frowning at your words and actions. “My love, I’m sorry. So sorry,” he softly said, knowing who limply laid in your protective hold.

He loved watching you interact with Kelu. It reminded him a lot of himself and Tuk in some ways. Albeit you and Kelu not having a significant age gap, he still saw him and his sister in the two of you. He always insisted on tagging along wherever you went, pouting and pleading when you refused. Kelu also talked highly of you to his friends, Lo’ak catching him in the act many times. His heart always swelled in size whenever he saw you interact with Kelu. It made him wonder if you’d be as sweet, as caring, and as loving to your children as you were with your younger brother.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, desperately trying to meet your gaze.

When everything started happening and the Sky People began attacking, Lo’ak immediately began looking for you before doing anything else. He was so worried that you’d be amongst the many of the deceased bodies that he passed while looking for you, that he turned every single one around to make sure it wasn’t you. Whispering prayers to the Great Mother that she would lead him to you. Alive.

“No! You and your family have done enough,” you shouted, pushing him away as you ripped one of your arms from around your brother's body to do so. “You should’ve never came here!” you continued, refusing to meet Lo’ak’s gaze. You knew that it wasn’t exactly Lo’ak or his family’s fault, but you needed someone to blame. Someone to be mad at. His family had seeked refuge within your clan, ultimately leading to the events that occurred today. Their presence led them here. Their presence is what killed your brother.

Lo’ak had felt stones begin to gather within his heart. He felt heavy at your words. He knew to some degree that they might be true. He and his family had targets on their backs ever since Quaritch had returned. And he knew that you were grieving and in pain and that you didn’t fully mean the words that you said. You needed an outlet to direct your anger to and Lo’ak would happily be that outlet if that meant you were still breathing and safe and sound. Even if it meant you resented him forever for what was done to your clan this day.

He tried to comfort you, attempting to put his hand on your cheek but you only brushed it off, looking back to Kelu and tucking the loose strands of his braids back.

He looked so peaceful like this. Like he wasn’t a child that was born into a world that only knew war and its aftereffects. Like he was a baby once again and soundly slept without a care in the world.

“This is your fault,” you repeated, ears pressing back against your skull, “all your fault”.

More stones gathered in Lo’ak’s heart as those words slipped past your lips. He felt guilty at your confession. He loved you with his whole heart and felt responsible for bringing this kind of grief into your life. He vowed to protect you from the cruelness of the Sky Demons, failing at the one job he gave himself.

Lo’ak brought his hand up to your warm and damp cheek, softly rubbing away at the soot that covered nearly the entirety of your face.

You tried your best to not melt into his soft hold, but you didn’t have the energy in you to push his hand off. So, you allowed his hand to continue its gentle grip on your face.

You felt so tired. You just wanted all the suffering to stop. You wanted your brother back. You wanted the fire to stop burning your home. You wanted your heart to start beating again.

“Lo’ak!” a deeper voice called, causing Lo’ak to retreat his gaze from your slouched frame to his enclosing Father, “Lo’ak, we have to go.”.

Jake’s words pulled you out from your trance, head whipping up to look at your lover's Father, a new found anger spreading throughout your body.

It was as if Jake could sense your anger and hostility towards the man, stopping in his tracks as he gulped the saliva in his mouth, shaking. He could’ve swore that he saw your amber hues turn into slits as they landed on his frame. A sense of deja vu flooded Jake as he stared at your position and his son's desperate look. He knew what had happened and found himself feeling bad for you.

“Go,” you barked out, finally letting go of your brother and hauling Lo’ak up in a bruising grip, “Go! Leave here! Never come back!”.

“(Y/N), please,” Lo’ak whispered. “I’m sorry. Oel ngati kameie. Let me help you,” he pleaded.

You only shook your head, intricate beaded braids whacking Lo’ak in the face, causing him to stagger back a bit. “Go! Leave! Don’t not come back here,” you hissed, pushing at his lean chest, “You all have done enough.”.

You turned your back on him after your yelling, crouching back down to gather Kelu into your arms once again. You wailed in agony as you laid your cheek on his forehead, squeezing himself into you as if he was your lifeline.

Your words were like daggers to his heart, causing it to bleed out from within his chest. All he wanted to do was drag you into his warm embrace and comfort you. He wished he would transfer your pain to him so you wouldn’t have to suffer and live with it everyday.

Jake Sully had decided to seek refuge within the Tawkami clan. Their withdrawn and peaceful nature allowed him and his family to stay as long as they needed. He had chosen the peaceful lorekeepers due to their convenient placement deep within the forest. They were only hard to find if you didn't know the way, something that eased Jake’s thoughts regarding Quaritch finding them. He had been wrong it seems. Because Quaritch still found him. He’d find him no matter where he went. Jake was foolish to think otherwise as well as drag another clan into avoidable and unnecessary violence. He was the reason many Tawkami died that day. He was the reason for the destruction of their beloved home. He was the reason for your beloved brother's death. It all gave him deja vu as he thought about it, seeing himself in his son and his wife in you.

“Son,” Jake called out, gently grabbing his son's hand as he urged him to follow him, “We need to go. Now.”.

Lo’ak didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to leave you. He knew you needed support during this time and wanted to offer you that crutch to lean on. But the pleading voice of his Father and your cold shoulder had pulled him from his position by your side to by his Father, following after him as he walked further and further away from your grieving figure.

Just before Lo’ak completely left you in your saddened state, he turned back around to look at you one last time. As his eyes danced around your body, he silently promised to himself and the Great Mother that he’d get your revenge. No matter what it took.

#lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fic #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo'ak sully x reader #lo'ak sully x you #lo'ak sully x y/n #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #angst #avatar #atwow imagines #atwow x reader #avatar x reader #atwow #atwow x you #lo'ak

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mayfast · 1 month

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HeadCanon Ash Na’vi Edition

So, as we approach our our third movie of the Avatar Franchise, everyone’s been making some thoughts on what they hope to see and etc. So naturally I want to pitch in.

Ash Na’vi are supposedly made of the outcast of other tribes right?

What if their iknimaya is a little different? - I’ve seen the idea of their teens surviving a full year on their own before be allowed back into their clan, “carving their own path if you will”. - Maybe that’s part of the rites? Being outcasted. As their ancestors were. - So if being cast out by your first tribe leads to your ‘Spiritual’ death, finding the home within the Ash clan becomes your second, or third birth.

Moving on to angst because I love angst like a crackhead loves meth,

Spider, just being cast out by Jake and Neytiri in a hot flash of anger, they are not over Neteyam’s death, Lo’ak feeling betrayed in a way, and Kiri feeling so confuse because that’s her brother, while all Tuk can do is watch her family fall apart again. [I don’t think this would happen, I just like being Delulu, all characters here are complex and have trauma and a griefcase] . Spider breaking down in a Windertrader’s arms or another Ash Na’vi (who was latest outcast) because he feels like he’s lost everything. After grieving his heart out and having a well deserved breakdown with someone holding him, Spider hears his friend whisper “Welcome home brother.”

#spider socorro #avatar the way of water #avatar spider #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #ao3 #ao3 writer #avatar #headcanon #delulu #delusional #angst with a happy ending

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 2 months

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Hi, I'm curious if you have any theories about Avatar 3 and any thoughts about Ash Navis? What could they be like and will Quaritch really join them?

I wouldn’t say I have hard theories based on a ton of set leaks or anything but I have things in mind that I think could happen that would be interesting to me.

So I’ve heard the Ash clan is made up of Na’vi exiles from various clans. Basically it’s ✨Space Australia ✨. I think it’d be really cool to see them have a blended culture from all those other tribes along with seeing what there land looks like. It’d have to be pretty brutal if you’re sending exiles there. It’s confirmed that it’s a volcanic land so made those volcanoes regularly erupt (and could you imagine the lava maybe changing colors or being like something you’d see through heat glasses. It’d be so cool) I think other tribes are gatherers and don’t really do farming so maybe the ash clan have to grow plants to survive “manipulating” Eywa’s creation. Maybe there’s even deadlier animals then what we’ve seen or variations of animals we have seen that are adapted to the ash lands. All in all I think the ash clan will be brutal with a more feral relationship with the land and Eywa then the other tribes.

Something I’d find interesting for Quaritch would be if he tried to become Toruk Makto. I find it unlikely that there’s only one Toruk. The one we see in the first Avatar would at least have to have a mate so the species doesn’t die out. So Quaritch could become a dark Toruk Makto (could you imagine the fight him and Jake would have!) like a false prophet that some tribes actually get behind. I don’t think the ash clans leader Verang would fall for him though. I think it’s more likely that they use each other. I don’t think they’ll be romantic either.

The title the seed barrier has always had me speculating even though that’s apparently not the title anymore. But I’ve wondered what these seeds could be and what if it’s literally like a seed of Eywa that the humans could take back to earth to heal it? I think that’d be cool. According to the avatar survival guide (which I’m not even sure is canon) Pandoran plants have been taken to earth and there are even cults of eywa on earth. I love this concept so much and would love to see this expanded upon though I don’t think it will be. But all that’s to say there’s all ready Pandoran flora on earth and support for the na’vi, so you could have allies on Earth that would get the seeds planted. I’d love to see more of Earth in general but I’d like to see something done to actually save the planet. I think that’d be the best solution for the humans and the Na’vi. First you’d have to defeat the R.D.A because they are poison for everyone but their investors. There’s no way a human settlement on Pandora run by the R.D.A would ever be sustainable obviously not for Pandora but even for the humans. They’d be slaves to a company, your everything would be dependent on them and it’s not like you could just leave when you can’t breathe the air.

I think we’ll see more of Earth through Jake and Quaritch’s memories and maybe that’ll create sympathy from Eywa that leads to the creation of these earth healing seeds. You’re definitely not giving these to the R.D.A because they would just exploit it. They’d probably have to hijack a ship and send a human they trust (not Spider! I would hate to see him leave Pandora) to get the job done. They’d link up with the Na’vi loyalists on Earth and save the planet. This is more an overall theory though not just a third movie theory.

This isn’t really a theory and I’m sure everyone has heard the set leaks by now but Spider having a near death experience with Kiri healing him and Spider gaining the ability to breathe Pandora’s air afterwards is basically already canon to me.

I would like to see Neteyam resurrected in some way. I don’t think he’d be flesh and blood resurrected though I’d be so happy if he was. I think, if Eywa is an actual god ( and I think she is) and not a more scientifically explainable collective consciousness then maybe with the building threat Eywa decides she needs more spiritual help and turns characters we know into minor gods. I think I’d be cool to see Neteyam as like an earth god with his spirt creating earthquakes that wreak the R.D.A during battle. I would want this for Tsu’tey and maybe even Sylwanin too. I think this is totally not going to happen but I really like the idea.

I do think Grace will be resurrected in her Avatar body. I had the thought a few weeks back of, could they just hook graces avatar body back up to the tree of souls? ‘Cause her soul is with Eywa, maybe her soul just needed more help getting to her avatar body when she was you know- dying. But Kiri basically being Eywa’s avatar is probably strong enough to shepherd her mother’s soul into her na’vi body. I actually think this is pretty likely because I feel like just keeping Graces body around creates a narrative need to do something with it. No body but Grace can drive it so I think it’s only logical for her to be resurrected.

Those are my major theories/thoughts! Thank you for the question. I’d love to hear what everyone else thinks 💙

#avatar theory #avatar way of water #avatar 3 #miles quaritch #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #jake sully #neteyam sully #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #tsu’tey te rangloa ateyitan #ash clan #grace augustine

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proffesionalalpaca · 1 year

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Quaritch is gonna join the Ash people clan; here’s my proof.

Don’t you think it’s just perfect that Recom Miles Quaritch, a product of Project phoenix, would join/ally with the Fire Na’vi of the ash clans.

Literally named after the creature that sets itself on fire, that dies, in order to be reborn from the ashes!

I don’t know about you but that seems a wee bit too intentional.

#jc avatar #avatar 3 speculation #avatar 3 spoilers #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar theory #recombinant miles quaritch #miles quaritch #avatar varang #varang #project phoenix #ash clan #ash people #fire Na’vi #it’s a bit obvious but so perfect

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strangerdangerwrites · 1 year

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twin flames | L.S. (Avatar: The Way of Water) - Chapter One

Summary: You meet the people who were once your clan’s enemies.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk’itan x Ash People Na’vi!Female!Reader (Uses she/her/hers pronouns; No use of Y/N)

Warning: None

Chapter Masterlist

In the eyes of the flames, everything is one and the same.

Within you is the fire, the urging desire…

to cause destruction, all because of the ember's seduction.

Mahuika is a beauty. After all, it is your home, the warmth of the sands on your feet, and the scorching ashes dancing through the air never bothered you.

The kiss of the breeze on your skin was what you love most, the warm embrace of home.

The marui surrounded by magma, spouting its embers into the air.

The tarākona that roamed and rested among the large rocks, your bonded creature forged in fire.

The children watched the flame dancers during the eclipse in glee.

Your clan, happy as another group of warriors, celebrated victory in conquering the leap of faith in Mount Valko. The burn marks on their skin tell their own tale.

Your sisters dance among the fire, as you cheer among their grace.

Your Olo'eyktan, your mother sat among her people smiling.

And the most sacred place upon Mahuika is the large tree that sprouted among the volcanic grounds with golden luminescent leaves and white roots and trunk; it almost looked like it was burning, The Roots of Life.

Your heart longed and ached for your home.

But now you are surrounded by blue and green. Water, the enemy of the flames.

How ironic, your enemy— no companion— no savior… had been basking in the clear blue seas. At first, you would've thought he looked like the depth of the ocean, the unknown. Yet as much as you looked at him clearly, he didn’t resemble the clans who resided in the waters; perhaps he is one of the forest dwellers you thought.

On your journey toward Awa’atlu, the place where his family had already considered their own, you revel in silence while the tulkun tries its best to carry your wounded tarākona. A place where you could rest, rest before heading back to your shattered home.

The cinders still remain and a simple flick could easily ignite it all. You’d heal and when all is done…then what?

You were silent while both of you rode his ilu back to Awa'atlu, you held your bleeding arm across your chest, untouching. Even if there was a fine line that made you understand one another, you cannot trust him completely; you are still wounded by the scars of the sky people. You only hold onto his waist with one hand. But when you shivered as every wave slapped your arms and legs; your teeth chattering loudly he couldn’t help but turn around, and with you bleeding profusely, you can feel your eyelids grow heavy.

You were too tired. Too exhausted to even be conscious of your surroundings.

His ilu stopped midway, while Payakan continued his way among the seas he knew.

“Would you like to stay at the front? I can—shit— I could warm you up?” He moved away from his ilu, ready to go behind you while you looked at him with your intense glare. Even if you were bruised and shivering in the cold, you still looked at him with this cold glare making him cower.

Lo’ak almost smacked himself in the back of the head with how he worded it out, but you slightly shifted to the front of his ilu and left him space behind you. Lo’ak gently placed himself behind you, at first giving you the distance that you needed while you held your bleeding arm across your chest.

When he commanded his ilu to go forward, slowly you leaned against him making his breath hitch. Lo’ak felt like he was stepping on eggshells with how careful he wanted to be with you; he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries and toy between the line of what this is and what you are to each other.

This was oceans that are not traversed and Lo’ak is simply dipping his toes in the waters, testing…waiting.

He can smell the faint smell of smoke, fresh spice…from you. You were warm, not too much that he would sweat, just the right amount of touch for physical contact. You fit right beneath him perfectly, still shivering while he held his ilu’s reins.

Throughout the whole ride, Lo’ak never heard you talk, only after your fight earlier. Even Lo’ak was silent, he could’ve just left you there alone but he didn’t. The bitter understanding of the taste of loneliness painted on his lips.

He knew your darkest secrets without needing to know you that long. This blind trust you have with each other makes him feel things he never had… it makes him feel wanted… depended on at long last… that he is worthy of trust and responsibility.

This would probably do both of you good, you were both alike, weren’t you? Lo’ak thinks.

How bizarre it is to think that you bare your fears and pain to a complete stranger? There would be once-in-a-million chances for you to meet and yet here you both are.

Every line becomes muddled with uncertainty.

Lo’ak only realized that you’ve been leaning on him completely when he lowered his hands, you were sleeping. Your drowsy state, trying to open your eyes when you saw the faint light of the fire.

The urge to close your eyes was too strong, and so you did. Putting your complete faith in the na’vi that you almost considered the enemy into safety. After all, what else could you lose?

When the both of you reached the island surrounded by roots of mangrove-like trees, there are multiple campfires and lanterns open. Right in the distance, Lo’ak could see figures he knew too well, looking out into the ocean.

Looking for him.

‘The boy has returned!’

When Lo’ak tried to shift you awake, your eyes remained closed and your head lulled backward. His ilu guided him towards the white sands, people had gathered to look at the boy and the figure he was carrying.

“Where were you?!” Jake came barging right in front of Lo’ak, anger and fear littered on his features.

Neytiri, his mother looked at him with panic in her eyes, muttering ‘my son’ in the wind. Neytiri’s hand placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, scanning her son’s body for further injuries when she realized the figure he was carrying, a bloodied na’vi with ash blue skin, the large feathers and bones that adorned your frame told her that you are the same age as her son.

Payakan had pushed your tarākona towards the shore, the crowd gasped at the large creature slumped right behind Lo’ak. It hissed in pain and the eyes of the Olo'eyktan narrowed as soon as he saw the creature trailing behind you, almost making a protective barrier with its large body. Preventing even his family from even coming close beside him, with the tarākona protecting you both.

“A tarākona.” Ronal hissed. There is only one clan that tamed this monstrous beast.

Lo’ak kneeled, gently placing you in the sand yet refusing to let you go. You were still bleeding, he cannot afford to pass any minute with you being dead to the world. You were running out of time.

The sole reflection of his pain, the only person who’d understand is lying here waiting until Eywa would take you as hers.

“I-I found her drifting across the sea…and I… help her please.” He begged the Tsahik, looking at Ronal with a pleading stare.

Metkayina’s Tsahik was cautious as she did not trust the Sully family at first. And Lo’ak was at the last on her list of good graces, Lo’ak brought nothing but trouble and yet here he is presenting another problem to the Metkayina’s home.

A na’vi from the Manawa Wera Clan, an enemy of their own clan.

Manawa Wera had their own beliefs and cultures that are far too different from the Metkayina. If they believed in The Way of Water, your clan believed in The Seeds of Fire.

For the Metkayina, the sea is a better ally.

For the Manawa Wera, fire is judgment

If the water is eternal, the fire begins with a spark and ends in ashes.

If the sea is your home, the flame is a lover who is erratic. uncontrollable, unforgivable, everything and beyond.

If the Metkayina can learn acceptance and forgiveness, your clan on the other hand would burn everything in ash and cinder.

A fire cannot be contained or trained, they ran havoc in destruction.

Because no amount of water can quench the fire that resides within.

“You have no idea about the child you brought here, she is from Manawa Wera.” Ronal growled.

Lo’ak feels helpless and he can feel his own anger rise upon the accusation just because of your own upbringing. He could almost see himself in you, untrusted, enemy… just finding solace and comfort only to be pushed away. You showed no signs of threat and just like his first time with the Metkayina Clan, he is being ridiculed, scorned, mocked, and shamed.

The anger in him slowly crept up in his veins. He felt his eyes twitch.

Like a calculated venom, he spat out the following words: “If you are no help then maybe you don’t deserve the title of the Tsahik.”

Ronal's intense stare wavered, as Lo’ak parents scolded him. He held his ground, looking at the Tsahik in front of him.

Tonowari held his mate’s arm softly, looking at her as if talking with her with only his eyes.

“It is a child…” Tonowari whispered, looking at Ronal softly and back towards their own children. Ronal knew the feeling of a mother, and how she didn’t want her own children to be separated from her own family; When the Sky People had posed a threat far greater than what they could fight.

Your own mother must be out there, worried about her own child's loss in the sea. Ronal couldn’t do that even with the former enemy.

Metkayina’s are forgiving, and if the sea had brought you here then there must be a purpose. Because if not, you should’ve drowned a long time ago.

Ronal exhaled defeatedly conceding to her husband’s request.

“Bring her to me.” Ronal demanded, and with that, the healers of the clan carried the girl away from Lo’ak’s hands.

Leaving Lo’ak standing there with his family looking at him worriedly. Kiri carefully stepped around the tired creature, looking at it in wonder. It was majestic in her own eyes, far too different as its muted red color scales glinted in the moonlights.

“You disrespected her and our family. Do you understand that?” Jake scolded looking at him in anger.

“Lo’ak, you do not talk to the Tsahik that way!” Neytiri scolded, only for his mother’s eye to fall right into his bloodied chest. His mother’s breath almost caught in a hitch, it reminded her of another most recent loss far too great for a mother to experience.

Neytiri’s hand wavered in front of his son’s bloodied chest, she could almost feel the cold embrace of her guilt when Lo’ak slapped her hand away.

The pain in the eyes of the mother did not go unnoticed by Jake and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak reassured his mother: “I am fine, mother. It’s just a scratch.”

Lo’ak own erratic breathing was pulsing with anger, but when Jake place a comforting hand on his son’s head Lo’ak realized that he was back to directing his anger to what was in front of him. Just like what he had done when he met you.

“Where have you been?” Jake asked, this time he lowered his tone. Wary about how it would sound in the ears of his child.

“Ma Jake, you ask questions later. Your son is bleeding.” Neytiri softly said, grabbing her son’s shoulder tightly, as if Lo’ak would disappear as soon as she closed her eyes. “I apologize… let us go and I’ll heal you.”

Walking side-by-side, the tarākona shifted awake, looking at Lo’ak, and followed him begrudgingly. Its forked tongue hissed in the air, while Kiri remained intrigued. It was a beautiful creature, it looks to be a bonded creature of a warrior.

Kiri noticed there was a prominent burnt scar on the tarākona’s neck. Far too calculative to be just a mere coincidence, like it was meticulously placed there. Even with its tired state, the creature followed its own owner; not even bothering as it slithered away from the watchful eyes of the na’vi who were far too curious about the said creature.

Lo’ak looked behind him, watching as the light in the pod of Tsahik glow as they healed you. In the dim light of lanterns, it gave your sleeping figure a heavenly glow.

You looked serene, peaceful… perfect.

Māori Words Used: Manawa Wera - Manawa (heart), wera (hot) means “being fervent of heart and passionate”. In the case of the story, it is the Clan of the Ash People, the Fire-Dwelling Clan. Taglist: @okaylorrainee, @destinylb

A/N: I SPENT A GOOD TIME RESEARCHING GOOD NAMES THAT FIT FOR ASH PEOPLE CAUSE JAMES CAMERON WOULDNT PROVIDE ME WITH ONE.

Also, I would like to give credit to the recording artist, Ria Hall, I was listening to her album named “Manawa Wera”. Also "Set Fire to Rain" by Adele is one of my looped songs for writing this. Also if you go back to the prologue you would notice something, there is now a header! This is a reminder that the plot belongs to me, except for the characters of the Avatar Franchise. This is only for fictional purposes.

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sunofpandora · 5 months

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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.

☾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.

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

#avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #neytiri #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you

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