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sunofpandora · 6 months

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Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

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

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/ fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna.

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up.

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

V I R A G O

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless.

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back.

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea.

You always felt protective over Kiri.

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

“So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away.

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes.

Sometimes you hate what you are. What you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you.

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of

Your bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention.

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.”

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them. You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces.

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

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

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp.

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu.

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya.

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.”

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.”

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard?

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now?

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment.

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold.

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it.

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n. You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter. It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey-

There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies.

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

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar.

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me.

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) , if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n.

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her.

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward.

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, he was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance. A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan.

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag.

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening.

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'.

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail.

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object.

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

“Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

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

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after.

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

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

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sunofpandora · 3 days

Text

V I R A G O

Chapter 5

Honey, you’re familiar.

Neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹i𝓼

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———WARNINGS:

Mentions of dick sucking and eating pussy???? IT'S A JOKE GUYS I SWEAR JUST READ AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND GIVE ME A CHANCE!!

Anxiety/mentions of hunger/mentions of not eating/ heights/ sex jokes/murder jokes?? Neteyam has like, one dirty thought?

Synopsis: Y/n and Lo’ak spend some time together at the lake, and return to the omatikaya to join the sullys for the communal clan meal. Jake and y/n have a heart to heart.

Extra characters:

Kyuna: Omaticaya clan member

Popiti: Omaticaya child, Tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary.

Authors note:

HI GUYS! Did you miss me?? It’s okay to say no 😭. I’m in such a good mood guys and you won’t believe why 😏 and because I am in such a good mood, I have decided to give you guys some fluffy sully family feels before the next chapter, where neteyam and Y/n will start their training! As just a reminder, please remember to go back and read chapter 3 (all 3 parts if you can) bc I have a feeling that not a ton of people have.

VERY IMPORTANT!!

This chapter is what I call a direct chapter. This means that the events in this chapter are happening on the same day as the ones in chapter 4 (found on my masterlist.). Ik it’s been awhile so pls feel free to refresh your memory

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»

“Damn that thing is huge.”

“…”

“So big and juicy looking…”

“……”

“I can’t wait to have that thing inside of me…mmm….my mouth is just watering thinking about it.”

“Lo’ak. Shut the fuck up.”

Lo’ak cackled, shoving you playfully.

“C’mon sis you know I play around.”

You huffed, trying to keep up being unamused with his sexual innuendos.

“Lo’ak it’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.”

You thwacked him with your tail, hissing at him lowly, making him shut up immediately.

“You know for someone who complained about neteyam moaning into a fruit, you talk a lot of shit.”

Lo’ak shrugged.

“Is it so wrong to admire a fruit for its nice curves??”

It was inevitable that Lo’ak would bother you like this while you tried to focus. It wasn’t anything new. And while you were practicing the art of perpetual kindness, the occasional sex joke from Lo’ak deserved a whack of your tail, did it not?

You huffed, dropping your shoulders and letting your stance slip. You had been out in the woods with Lo’ak for the last 2 hours. Just exploring and enjoying conversation and gossip as usual, your bow slung around your torso and a few arrows, sharpened and freshly fletched at the ready in case of trouble.

It wasn’t trouble you were trying to shoot right now, luckily. Your current target was the fresh bunch of fruits that glistened under the canopy’s kisses of sunlight leaking through the foliage.

Lo’ak shifted on his feet.

“I could just shimmy up there and cut them down at the stem.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly recalling how about 5 minutes ago he tried that and fell on his ass…7 times.

“No, Lo’ak. I don’t want you injured. We’re doing it my way now.”

You raised your arm again, placing your arrow against the string of your bow, carefully constructing your once slipping stance to its previous position.

You took a breath, widening yourself at the proper angle, the sweet sound of the stretch your bowstring was a gentle satisfaction. You felt your nose twitch as the fletching of the arrows brush your nostrils.

You can feel Lo’ak’s eyes on you. Tracing the way your muscles tensed and stretched, enamored by your skill. It seemed as if everyone was.

To be honest, it would have felt weird if it was anyone else other than Lo’ak.

You finally released, watching the arrow fly up and into the tree, the sound of the vine snapping as the arrow pierced straight through the stem that hung the fruits by the bunch to the branch resonated through the moistened air.

The fruits fell with a thud, you let out a satisfied sigh.

“There we go.”

You hummed, handing Lo’ak your bow as you squatted to swing the fruits over your shoulder.

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. Just staring at your weapon as you stood to your feet.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You queried, stepping over the few stones to stand with him.

He shrugged, a smile allowing itself to sink upon his features.

“Nothing. I just feel like I should be more formal. I’m in the presence of our clan’s mighty archer.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him as you started to walk down the path you came.

“Shut up.”

“No im serious. I should’ve done my hair or fixed up my outfit-“

“You’re not funny.”

“My mom says I’m funny.”

He puts his hands on his hips, chin high as if his existence was the height of humanity’s greatest accomplishments.

“Yourn mom also tells Tuk that babies come from flowers. So she’s extremely reliable, it seems.”

Lo’ak gasped frantically, dramatically tumbling over his steps and clutching his chest as if he’s entering cardiac arrest.

“You fiend of a woman! How dare you speak to me with such a tounge!?”

“Oh suck my dick Lo’ak.”

“Eat me out y/n!”

Lo’ak leaned against a tree, posing seductively. Spreading his legs and falling his hands around to gesture to his loins.

You covered your mouth and nose, gagging for effect.

“Put it away Lo’ak, phew, I KNOW it stinks up in there.”

“It smells delectable.”

“Mo’at had a heart attack scare last time she washed your loincloth. I wouldn’t count on it.”

Lo’ak flipped you off.

You both couldn’t restrain yourselves from the ugly cackles that erupt from your throat.

Your laughter weaving floridly around the forest before soaking into the late afternoons sunrays. The sky blushed it’s shadowed hues into breathtaking. It was at this time when the sun settled its intensity and ceased staining the world with its harsh tones, when the night crept behind a curtain of clouds.

Lo’ak and you continued to wonder around, Lo’ak carrying the fruit in the woven satchel bag that hung by it’s strap over his shoulder, your hands remained free, feeling the diminutive weight of the bow on your back, reaching out every now and then to swing on a branch or hurl yourself over a log.

“So, question for you.”

Lo’ak started, throwing himself over a rock to land on the patch of moss.

“Uh huh.”

“If we were to go swimming right now, would we be late going back to high camp?”

You think for a moment.

“Not if we make it quick. Try not to lose your loincloth in the rapids again.”

You snickered, recalling the incident during a fishing trip that your fathers took you on when you were both 12,

Jogging off before he could pull your tail or pinch your ankle or grab your leg or something obnoxious

“For fucks sake, will you ever let that go!?”

A boisterous laugh leaves you as you doubled over against a tree.

“No. It’s so funny.”

“Shut the fuck up. Listen-“

“I’m listening!”

“No you’re not, you're laughing!”

Another cackle leaves you. You wave a hand around, as if to rid the air of your own facetiousness.

“Okay— okay. I’m done. I’m done laughing. I promise.”

The wheezing endnotes of your breathless words betray you, and another fit of laughter leaves you. Lo’ak joins, and your chest starts to ache with the amount of breath that presses through your fits of giggles.

Lo’ak swings an arm around your shoulder throwing you both of balance, as if your steps weren’t already unparalleled and uncoordinated.

“No because- how did you lose your fucking loincloth—“

You rasped, your eyes squeezing shut.

Sounds that you’re almost 89% sure resemble some animal dying leave you and Lo’ak in sync.

And all the shit you’ve been through the last few days seem to just melt away when you’re laughing with your best friend so hard you can’t breathe.

After a few minutes, the chorus of chortles and raspy sentences cease.

“Oh eywa. You’re a fucking idiot.”

You sigh, shoving him lightly.

“So are you. We’re a package deal.”

He pushes you before sprinting towards the river.

“Lo’ak! Fuck— wait up.”

Lo’ak’s smile was different from Neteyam’s. Neteyam’s was full of warmth and sunlight. Saturn’s rings sulking in a lightning storm of gold gilded gardens.

Lo’ak’s smile was made of healing boyish hearts and oddly shaped persuasion. Flames and rings of smoke that radiated its warmth beneath incandescent skin. Rattling notes of wooden beads clinking together and a fragile temperament.

He throws himself in the water with a running start, an accented yelp echoed like a final chord striking before a late curtain call of a sunset evening’s songs.

Your laugh is loud, it shakes your body as his head emerges from the water.

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss.”

You took a breath, diving in the water.

You felt your body slicing through the surface, the air around you revisions itself into a

You enjoyed swimming. And you were actually really good at it. There was something about being in the water that was so soothing, sirenic sensations that seemed to lift the world into light.

Your vision consolidated, surrendering to the soft undercurrents that brushed along your skin.

You motioned your arms and legs forward, propelling yourself through the water. You swiftly raised your head above the water, feeling the surface break as you retreated for air.

As the film of aqua haze vanishes back to the thickened victorious viridescent shades painted the jungle. The light leaked through the canopy, reigning a rutilant warm glow, burned by the late afternoon sun.

Lo’ak’s silhouette blackens, shadowed by the thick line of fire that forms itself into the shape of sunlight.

“You’re crazy good at that.”

“At what?”

“Swimming.”

Your mother and father were traders.

Well, really, your father was.

Your father’s family were the representatives for your clan while traveling and trading for years.

His family had an almost nomadic lifestyle and spent much of their time away from hometree and the clan. The olo’eyktan of the clan at the time, Lo’ak’s grandfather, followed the tradition of leaders many years before him of entrusting your father’s family to be the ones to travel by ikran away from home in seasonal patterns to trade resources and gather new information to report and bring back to the clan. Its a system that has been in place for many years.

As a child, you occasionally traveled with your parents. Visiting the planes where the tipani resided, and even the beaches under the cliffs where the tayrangi dwelled. When you were little, you loved to swim in the oceans with the other tayrangi children.

You shrugged. Rubbing the back of your neck, your braids strung loosely about behind you, some some swaying across the surface of the water and other sinking against your back.

“My parents took me when they traveled east a lot. Remember? I guess I’ve built up some swimming skills.”

Lo’ak nodded, glancing down at the water before flicking his gaze back towards you.

“Do you think you’ll do it?”

“Do what?”

“Travel. Like your parents did.”

You think for a moment. Letting the silence settle. There was a time, where you and Lo’ak were dumb and 12 years old would stay up past dark quietly sneaking around the clan to steal some snacks and climb the yovo fruit trees that surrounded your village, the one you lived in before high camp. You would whisper about your plans for the future. How one day, you both would pack up your ikran saddles and fly off to a far away land, explore and travel the uncharted territories of Pandora together, and return when the journey ended on your own terms.

“Maybe.”

You hummed, thinking of how possibilities place themselves into puzzle pieces so quickly with time.

He nods, paddling around.

“Remember when we were kids? And we always talked about running away? Convincing my dad to bring back our old trading systems? Just going wherever we wanted? No nagging, no worries, just a bullshit-free life.”

You splashed your face with some water, the refreshing coolness washes down your neck.

“Should we really leave the clan like that?”

Lo’ak snorted.

“Please. I think they’ll be fine. The trade needed to be brought back anyways. There are resources we could use and it’s good to strengthen our connections with the other clans and blah blah blah.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

He swam to you, his expression statued a seriousness that was almost unfamiliar to his usual demeanor.

“But I want to be real for a moment. I don’t want to be stuck here forever. You hear what Norm and max say. Pandora is huge. It’s too big for us to just stay in the forest for the rest of our lives.”

You frowned, a heaviness blanketed your heart that you couldn't quite name.

“Your family will miss you.”

Lo’ak laughed, but it was thin and forced, almost bitter.

“No. I don’t think they would.”

You shook your head, knowing that wasn’t true.

“Lo’ak. They love you.”

“My siblings and you may love me. But I don’t think the great Toruk Makto always likes me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he does like you, and that hes just afraid of loosing you?? Because you are so much like him, so much of a mirror into his own youth, he knows the mistakes he made.”

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. His voice was softer this time, this tell-tale of a familial tragedy that unconditionally refused to acknowledge one’s individuality. Where Jake and Lo’ak walked the thin line of being a mirror that refused reflection, a window that showed you what you prayed you would never see. History’s cruel rhyme schemes never surprised you. Not anymore.

The hoarseness in his voice edged his tone, you could tell he was disassociating from the conversation.

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“I think he’s still learning to make peace with that. You never really grow out of growing.”

Silence settled between you before it was shattered by the heavy sweep of water that crashes onto your face.

You cough up some of the water, slapping Lo’ak’s shoulder.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“Stop being so fucking smart.”

He whined, dunking his head under water.

You rolled your eyes. Yanking him up by his forearm.

“Lo’ak, I’m serious.”

He glared.

“And I’m not in the mood.”

“Your dad doesn’t hate you. He just-“

“I never said he hates me. I said he doesn’t like me. You don’t have to like someone in order to love them.”

“That’s not— Lo’ak I’m sure-“

“Y/n.”

That was your cue to close the curtain on that conversation. It pained you to know that Lo’ak thought like that. But you knew he would open up. Eventually.

Your mouth tapped shut. Your lips pressing into a thin line.

He sighed, running his hands down his face roughly.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to snap. Not at you. It’s just-“

“It’s okay, Lo. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

And of course, what kind of awkwardness couldn’t be avoided with a change of topic??

You swam next to him, splashing him playfully.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s wait a few weeks, we’ll pull together something to present to jake. We can meet with him and discuss if he’ll let us travel and revive the trade.”

In all, it wasn’t a bad idea. Which was rare for Lo’ak. The least you could do was give him the opportunity.

He smiled at you. And before you could say anything, he whooped wildly like a child, his elbow thrown around your neck, forcing you to wade abruptly closer.

“Aye! Y/n! I knew you could come around. We’re going to be such badass travelers.”

You chuckled, patting his back.

“As if I would say no to you.”

“If you did I might have to spit in your food.”

He announces proudly, floating on his back.

You gag.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m distinguished.”

He corrects, reaching out his arms and moving them slowly in a paddle motion.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹 ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

Water was forgiving. Maybe that’s why you felt so familiar with it.

You haven’t felt forgiven for a lot of things in your life. Not now, anyways.

Underwater was where the sun’s warmth didn’t feel so harsh. You never had trouble discerning the safety and the solitude of land.

You took a breath before submerging yourself under the

The vault of the sky caves around its azure dome as light bent and broadened across the surface, stretching the sunset into a henotic harmony.

You dived deeper. Your arms pushed you forward, like wings guiding a bird through the skies.

The opaque world of glass rests under the world. The shadows of the depths are drunken words spreading orisons that seem like obstinate Orphics.

mazarine whispers, and cyan and cerulean sing.

Your thoughts seem to retreat to the uninhibited corners of your mind as you remain nantant.

Nothing could reach you here.

Well, maybe Lo’ak’s bitchy screeching.

“Y/n! Dude! Come on!”

He yanks you out of the water, his arm uncomfortably clamped around your waist like a child trying to retrieve a toy by fishing it out of water blindly.

You sputtered out the water that rushed to your face with the unexpected motion, so lost in your haze of serenity you barely heard Lo’ak the first time.

You coughed, squirming as he threw you into the plush riverbank grass.

“Shit! Sorry!”

He patted- well more like slapped your back roughly to try and aid your recovery.

“Sorry, sorry. You just weren’t coming up for air. I called your name like 10 times.”

You whacked him with your tail, and he hissed and held the spot on his arm.

“I don’t like being manhandled.”

You rasped, clearing the water from your throat.

“Dude who the fuck cares! My dad will handle us into a ditch if we’re not back in time!”

Shit.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

“Keep going!”

You yelled over your shoulder, scrambling over branches and through the brush.

You jumped over a rock, slinging yourself up a step with a vine, looping around to check on Lo’ak, who was halfway seen sprinting to catch up with you.

“Shit! My bow-!”

“Don’t worry! I grabbed it back at the lake!”

He calls back to you.

“Just keep going!”

You nodded, nearly tripping as you sprang forward once again.

You raised two fingers to your lips, pressing air as the shriek of a whistle left you.

The flap of wings you heard wasn’t that far away.

You stopped at when you reached a cleaning, turning around to see Lo’ak skid to a stop.

Kailo landed infront of you both, you Quickly mounted him, throwing your bow in the holster on the side of the saddle.

“Hey buddy.”

Lo’ak cooed in a rushed manner, quickly giving him a few pats before hopping on behind you. You reached back, pulling him up. He wrapped an arm around your neck, hiking up his legs.

“Comfy?”

You asked, turning around to meet Lo’ak’s eyes. He was out of breath, chest heaving.

“Uh huh— SHIT.”

You took off before he could answer, gently digging your heels into the sides of the saddle, pulling the strapped reign as Kailo took off.

Lo’ak tightened his hold using his elbow around your neck, his upright headlock was no unfamiliarity whenever you gave him rides.

But this is Lo’ak we’re talking about. Of course he got comfortable quickly.

There was a comfort to flying with Lo’ak.

It made you feel like a little kid again. Carrying eachother around on your backs, playing games and doing stupid things for stupid reasons because there was a time where being stupid was fun and okay.

And maybe, with Lo’ak, being stupid wasn’t so bad.

You banked left, diving through the center of an arched mountain over the forest. Lo’ak cheered and whooped, throwing his hands up, before cursing and holding onto you again after realizing he almost lost his balance.

His palm roughly cupped your shoulder as he sat himself up a bit higher, looking out onto the world below.

You climb a lift of air before directing Kailo to drop, a straight dive down the waterfall. Once you leveled out again, you and Lo’ak both leaned to the side, letting your fingertips skim the surface of the lake below.

You were never carelesss or reckless with Kailo. He was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen, plus he was larger than most average ikran. That was no excuse to go flying so fast you fling yourself off the saddle.

But occasionally, you let yourself go.

“Please please please go faster!”

Lo’ak yelled, his volume competing wit. The wind.

“What? No. Any faster and we’ll crash into something.”

“Please!?”

Eh, why not? He’s had a rough couple of days. So have you.

You dived down again, grinning as you joined Lo’ak in his wild bouts of yelling.

But the fun didn’t last forever. Ahead, high camp came into view.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

You could feel Lo’ak’s hand shaking slightly as you both touched down through the large entrance crevice of high camp.

“Dad’s gonna kill us.”

Lo’ak groaned, sliding off the saddle behind you, petting Kailo a few times.

“Just relax and let me do the talking.”

You shook your head, giving his shoulder a small squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know everything.”

“Where the hell have you crotch stains been!?”

And you sure as hell knew who that voice belonged to.

Lo’ak jumped a bit, turning to see Jake barging himself towards you both.

“Fuck.”

Lo’ak muttered under his breath. So quietly he might not have said it all.

He hung his head, a few of his braids swinging over his shoulders, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, only glancing up once to look at you.

A few heads turned, some na’vi bearing witness to the spectacle of their olo’eyktan yelling at his kids.

And boy, he did not look happy.

Lo’ak puts both hands up, something you’ve noticed Neteyam do when Jake got heated like this. As if trying to calm a raging animal from attacking.

“Dad, I know this looks bad.”

“I would be concerned if you thought this didn’t ‘look bad’, Lo’ak.”

Jake bit back, his taller figure looming over his son.

Lo’ak bit his lip, his fingers twitch as his fingers dangle at his sides.

“You disobeyed me.”

The space between his brow wrinkles offensively.

“How did I disobey you?”

“I asked you, I asked ALL of your siblings this morning to let y/n rest and i found out you two go off on a joyride!?”

“Slow down Jake or you’ll have a heart attack.”

You sigh, stepping forward until your gaze is paralleled with his.

Lo’ak snorts, but he quickly masks his amusement as Jake sends him a glare, then he sends you one.

“You and I will talk later, I can only deal with one delinquent at a time.”

He waves you away.

“No, since you have enough to dish out for Lo’ak here, i’m sure there;s plenty for us to share.”

You felt like a teenager edged with attitude, especially when you loved and respected Jake so much. But seeing Lo’ak get wrung out all the time was exhausting.

“Jake this wasn’t Lo’ak’s fault.”

Lo’aks shaking fingers stilled, the ghost your side, gesturing to you that you didn’t have t0 take this for him.

“I’m the one that suggested we go for a ride. We took kailo and went to the lake for a few hours. Cleared my head. Did some meditating just like you suggested.”

You nudge him playfully, but the man didn;t look amused. Conflicted was probably the right word.

“Either way, I said he was to stay away from you for at least a day.”

“Jake, he doesn;t run up my blood pressure like he does yours. He’s fine. No one was hurt. Nothing happened, and Lo’ak didn’t want me to go alone.”

You Lo’ak a look, commionucating silently with your eyes.

Dude. say something.

Lo’ak nods, fishing himself out of a daze.

“R-right. Yes. right, we just went to the lake, dad.”

Jake sighed, rubbing his fingers to his temple, attempting to soothe the brewing headache, virtue to the usual shenanigans Lo’ak and you could never seem to shake.’

“Guys, i really don’t think that-”

“Wait! The only reason we stayed longer is because Lo’ak wanted to grab these.”

You grabbed the satchel that rested on Lo’aks hip, opening the woven flap to display the fruits you gathered earlier.

You gently thwacked lo’ak with your tail, and he immeditaaly caught the jist.

“I know theyre mom’s favorites.”

Lo’ak batted his eyes while you gave jake a sickeningly sweet smile.

He groaned, turning away.

“Out of my sight. Both of you. Now.”

“Okay thanks! Love you dad!!”

You and Lo’ak sprinted across the camp, submerged in your own laughter. You scurried mo’at;s tent, shutting the flap when he turned to you.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Eywa wouldn't let us face battles if she knew we were going to do it alone.”

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

Neteyam’s pov, the sullys tent:

My mother hates crowds. It’s not something I’ve inherited.

You can tell by the way she shrinks behind my father or grandmother when we have clan gatherings. The way she resorts to fidgeting with her songchord or holding Tuk’s hand to distract herself from the ocean of eyes that are standing in front of her.

Tonight the clan eats communally. We do it every once in a while. My grandmother told me that the people did it every night before hometree was destroyed, but as time faded, so did our habits, I suppose.

Maybe thats why tonight, as my family prepares to leave for communal meal, the air is uneasy and tense.

Kiri and I had been home almost all day, watching Tuk while my grandmother rested and my mother attended to her duties around high camp.

It feels empty without my father, Lo’ak, and y/n.

My mothers voice pulls my attention.

“Neteyam, go wake your grandmother.”

She kneeled down in the corner, tending to Tuk, trying to pick the leaves out of her hair.

“Uh huh. Give me a second.”

I set the freshly washed bowls I just finished scrubbing down in the pile where we left all our dishes.

I turned to see my grandmother, currently 18ft deep in her beyond-afternoon nap.

I sighed, stretching my arms behind my back, locking my fingers together to soothe the tightness in my muscles as I walk my way over to her.

“Grandmother.”

I tap her shoulder, her snores blaring lowly.

I sigh. Waking up my grandmother was usually a two man job.

“Grandmother? Grandmother???”

She stirs, but doesn’t wake.

I poke her shoulder lightly with my fingers.

She gasps awake, flinging her arm at my face, I step back, flinching at the action.

She sits up, squinting at me before her gaze softens.

“Neteyam, I’m sorry. I thought you were your father.”

“So you were planning to smack my father?”

“That’s beyond the point. I had the most wonderful dream.”

She reminisced dreamily.

I shifted on my feet awkwardly.

“That’s wonderful, grandmother. But I woke you because-“

“Quiet boy. I’m speaking.”

Great. Just what I was aiming to avoid.

I straighten, a rough breath falling from my lips. Settling in for the haul of whatever was to come.

“Apologies, Tsahik. You were saying?”

“Well.”

She begins.

“It was many years ago…when your mother told me she was with child.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then once she started, eywa she just wouldn’t stop..one child after another..”

I catch my mother glaring out of the corner of my eye.

“Neteyam, I think your grandmother can get up on her own.”

She hisses.

Grandmother waves her off.

“Don’t listen to her, boy. Go fetch my cane.”

My mother throws her arms up to express exaggeration.

“You don’t need a cane, Sa’nok.”

I stand warily between the two of them.

“And you don’t need to be sneaking off with your husband every few nights.”

My grandmother shoots back.

Maybe there was a reason for my father’s constant headaches.

It’s kiri’s voice that grasps my attention. I turn to see her enter the Marui with a half-weaved basket in her hands.

“Neteyam, while the golden girls are fighting, you might wanna take the time to worry about yourself.”

I shake my head, protesting gently. Something keeping me tied to multitasking bites at the back of my mind.

“No, I got it.”

She gives me a look, setting the basket-in-progress down and crossing her arms.

“Neteyam, you have been chasing Tuk around all day, helping mother clean, and as much as I know you enjoy being serenaded by grandmothers snoring, you need a break.”

“Kiri, really I'm fine.”

“I wasn’t asking. Go.”

Arguing with Kiri was useless. There was no competing with full-bodied ambition when ignited.

I surrender. Retreating behind the curtain of the divider between the two areas of my family’s home.

I busy myself with personal tasks. Sharpening my knife, rummaging through lo’ak’s hammock to retrieve the armbands I know for a fact he's stolen from me. Again.

About 1o minutes had passed. I had found 8 armbands when I heard the familiar voice of my father as he entered the tent.

I slip under the divider sheet to see him. He alternates looks between Lo’ak and Y/n as they shuffle inside.

“Ma’jake.”

My mother sighs in relief, as if my father is the shower of fresh rain after a drought. She holds Tuk on her hip as she squirms and giggles.

“Where have you been? There is much that needs to be done.”

My father pauses as he takes in each dilemma.

Kiri and Grandmother arguing in the corner.

My mother is holding an overly-hyper tuk.

Lo’ak and Y/n laughing for whatever reason.

And me. Peeking out from behind the sheet.

“I can see that.”

He affirms, reaching out to take tuk off my mother’s hands.

running his hand down her back in soothing circles, trying to get both of them to calm down.

My father knows my mother is full of love. He also knows when not enough of that love is kept for herself.

Lo’ak stares at our parents, his expression of mild disgust.

“Do you two want a moment alone?”

A laugh follows, my eyes ascertaining to its source.

Her. Oh it’s her.

Oh.

It’s her.

She stands behind Lo’ak, a lean azure frame. Droplets gleam and scintillate as they slide down her skin. Her bangles and bracelets shine under the fractured light. I try so hard not to stare. I try to focus on anything. Anything at all. Anything that won’t make me feel like I’m staring at a woman who’s wet and shiny like some kind of pervert.

Fuck. That sounded like I was describing a river rock or something.

‘wEt aNd sHiNy.’ 19 years old, future Olo’eyktan of your clan and you can’t even talk. I feel like the ground envelops me in quicksand, my lungs famine for air. Eywa, she was pretty.

‘Pretty’ feels like a disparagement. Makes me feel inarticulate for lacking a better word. Beautiful. Stunning. Hot? Is hot weird? She is hot. Is that weird? Am I weird?

If there is another word. I’ll find it

Her braids cascade down her back, a crown of curls and waves Unwinding at the where the braids end, the curls I sometimes imagine spilling through my fingers while I capture sweet sounds that fall from her lips.

Am I weird for this?

My father speaks, yanking me out of my haze.

“Baby, I can always call off the clan gathering if you’re not feeling a crowd tonight.”

He adjusts Tuk on his hip, picking a leaf out of her hair.

My mother shakes her head.

“No. I’m alright. There is just much to be done before we leave…”

My dad nods graciously, placing Tuk back to her feet again.

“Say no more. We’ll get everyone outta here in one piece.”

“Were you planning on us leaving disembodied?”

Kiri asks, her tone welcoming sarcasm in its arms.

Lo’ak chimes in.

“Can I swap out my loincloth real quick? I hate having the wet weaving slapping against me every time I walk.”

“Then why would you get wet?”

Kiri asks, rather harshly.

“Why do you cut your hair like that knowing your forehead is too big?”

“It astounds me how every day you talk about my forehead. Did you know they almost had to cut mom open because your head was so abnormally enormous??”

Lo’ak looks at my mom with incredulous eyes.

“Ma she’s lying. Right?”

My mom evades any squander of the moment as she turns to duck under the divider flap to where my parents slept.

“Ma’Jake, I’m going to change my top before we leave.”

Lo’ak falls to his knees, a dramatic anguished groan leaves him.

“Oh shit. I’m a freak. I’m a freak with a huge head.”

“You’re not a freak. You just have your fathers genes. I’m sure Jake was unusually large as well.” y/n comforts him, gesturing to my father.

“The hell I wasn’t.” My dad pipes up, trying to wrestle Tuk into sitting still.

Kiri shrugs, leaning against the wooden pillar to the side of the sheet as she fidgets with one of Y/n’s braids, standing behind her.

“I think we should banish Lo’ak for the attempted murder of the Tsahik daughter.”

I snicker, nudging Kiri

“Mother would have joined eywa doing what she loved. Screaming at father.”

She laughed, tossing her head back.

Lo’ak’s jaw drops, he tries to speak but only a string of syllables come out.

“That’s not fucking fair.”

My dad glares at all three of us.

“Watch your mouth boy. And what did I say about plotting murder during dinner.”

Y/n blinks, tilting her head.

“We aren’t eating dinner.”

“I don’t give a damn-!

Okay, you know what? New rule. No discussing murder. Period.”

Kiri clicks her tongue, the usual gleam flickering across her irises.

“Can we discuss manslaughter?”

The sentence teases its own tone.

She places her palms against one another in a paring position before pointing them outwards towards my father.

Y/n mimics her.

“If we can’t discuss it can we at least plan one? Me and Kiri have already worked out a date and time.”

“And we have a target.”

Kiri adds, nodding confidently.

“For the love of god, I will put all of you on time out. And your grandmother can join you.”

My father threatens. Glaring at all of us.

Grandmother speaks as she slowly arises from her sitting spot on the floor, Lo’ak assisting her by holding her arm.

“Good. That will give me and the children time to plot against you.”

She speaks matter-of-factly.

I laugh, watching Tuk’s big eyes travel between my father and the rest of us as she tries to keep up with the conversation.

We all turn to see my mother as her figure is guided back through the divider, a new top now covering her chest.

It had flowers on it, delicately placed in a pattern over her breasts. Vines braided over her shoulders to hold the garment in place.

My fathers eyes take the shape of stars as he sees her, the sun setting outside and him both share a flicker of breath as she moves toward us.

“Are we ready?”

She asks, placing some of her braids behind her shoulder.

My father whistles, a hand coming up to cover the grin that etched its way onto his face.

“Goddamn. You look..”

“Like a pretty flower!”

Tuk chirps, clapping excitedly as she runs to my mother, hugging her waist.

“I was gonna say gorgeous, but yeah. That works too.”

Gorgeous. That’s the word I was looking for.

She giggles as she strides her way over to him, He takes a step behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, another hand tracing circles in her hip.

“Y/n made this one.”

She murmurs, speaking quietly for my father.

“Do you like it?”

“Kids’ got taste. It’s stunning. Do a spin for me.”

My dad nods approvingly, Y/n feigns cockiness, posing and swaying her hips.

“Of course I have taste. The best there is, no doubt.”

Out of all of the fabrics, all the leaves and flowers and materials on the planet, I think her smile always looks the most stunning.

“You know who else has taste?”

My father whispers, clearly not quiet enough, the endnotes a purr.

My mother gasps, it twirls into a chuckle.

“Ma’Jake, the children are watching.”

“Kids, look away!”

My dad demands, kissing my mothers cheek as she squirms in his arms.

“Oh I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Kiri gags, clearly not fawning over my parents' affections the way y/n or tuk is.

My grandmother wedges herself between my parents, poking my fathers chest.

“Enough of this. It is time to depart. Before you both go and make another child I will have to deal with it.”

That was my fathers cue as he sighs dramatically, scooping up a squirming Tuk and twirling her around like a princess.

“Alright family let’s get going. Roll tide.”

“Roll tide!”

Tuk mimics my fathers lingo as we exit the tent, single file.

Tuk scurries infront of me. Hopping vigorously to squeeze her way in between my parents as they walk ahead of us.

Lo’ak and Kiri take turns bickering with grandmother, keeping their paces ahead of me.

I saunter off behind them. The cool air and dwindling distant conversations plexure in the atmosphere. Families talking, children laughing, all coalesce into a chorus that ceases its journey where the darkening night sky ends.

I turn as I feel a tap on my shoulder,

Big, doe-like gold eyes invade my gaze. Those eyes are my vice. My biggest sorrow and my greatest gift.

The auric hues captivate me. The gleam so picturesque the shadows run for shelter.

She’s still wet from the river. The shine from the droplets define her features, tracing every curve, clinging to every dip.

I feel ensnared in her equivalent of hypnosis. The expanse of her throat, the coves of her eyelids, every inch of her has me infatuated.

She doesn’t look like she belongs here. Her features lack those of a mortal being in regularity. A deity you’d sacrifice yourself for in the form of a disguise.

“Oh— you.”

Oh wow. That must make women swoon. ‘Oh. You.’ Might as well have said ‘ew. It’s you.’

Pull yourself together!

She recoils, its so slight you might not have noticed it at all.

She’s nervous.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check up on you.”

Her steps find competence as they match my own. Her fingers lock together as she strides with them behind her back.

I awkwardly shuffle to keep pace with her.

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologize.”

I wave my hands stupidly, as if she’s hard of hearing and needs to have everything signaled.

I clear my throat, clearing the hoarseness. Letting a silence settle before I realize what she’s said.

“You..wanted to check on me?”

She nods, her eyes meeting mine for a

moment. She’s only a few inches shorter than me. It always reminds me of how she teased me when we were kids, saying I’d never catch up to her height.

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I just…Lo’ak told me you were acting a little…off? This morning?”

Oh. You mean where you consumed every single one of my waking thoughts? This morning where I woke up still imaging you hugging me? This morning? Where I woke up stunned, paralyzed, drunken in enamorment of how on eywa’s green ground you could possibly be real when you have beauty of such extravagance?

“I have no idea what you speak of.”

I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest.

She’s skeptical.

“Oh. I see.”

“Yup. Nothing wrong.”

“So, you weren’t moaning into a a fruit this morning?”

A who-was-moaning-into-a what?

“What are you talking about?”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I just heard from a friend, that you were…excited for breakfast.”

Oh, the joy of having siblings.

I groan.

“No, that was a misunderstanding.”

She nods, trying to regain seriousness.

“Of course..I figured it was.”

Her cheeks puff slightly, harboring laughter.

I would probably be annoyed if it was anyone but her. and if her laugh wasn’t my favorite sound.

“Okay, you know what? It was early, I was tired-“

“Oh please. I’ve known you since you could walk. You’ve always been a morning person.”

I scoff, trying to pretend she wasn’t right.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Neteyam, I’m going to be your teacher soon. You should confide in me,”

Her arm accidentally brushes mine as we walk.

“So I should know if there’s something between you and that fruit that might interfere with your focus.”

I sigh, shaking my head, my tail gently swishing behind me.

“Say it with me now. Okay? 1..2..3…you’ve been spending too much time with Lo’ak.”

She chortles, recoiling at the sound.

I doesn’t phase me.

Not one bit.

“It’s the other way around.”

She argues.

“I can’t disagree. Last week I caught him wearing one of your armbands..”

“The one your father gifted me after completing my rites of passage?”

“Amber stones, arrowed weaving?”

She snaps her fingers.

“That’s the one! The bastard. I’ve been searching for weeks.”

I chuckle, catching a glimpse of her profile at the side of my gaze.

“I don’t blame him, you know.”

My voice carried a sincereness that seemed out of place with the conversation.

She looks at me, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“For looking up to you.”

She scoffs.

“Neteyam-“

“No. I’m serious.”

And as much as I regret cutting her off, the way she said my name, so tired, as if it was worn.

“You are one of the strongest warriors this clan has ever seen. I know that for a fact. I hear the way my parents speak of you. The way the people look at you, the way the children braid their hair to look like you. Everyone loves and admires you. I know for a fact I lov-“

She slows for a millisecond. That’s all it took to correct myself. Her steps only broke its pace as consciousness calculated on the ledge of what i knew so well I almost said.

“I love admiring you. I hope you know that.”

She shifts slightly, her fingers fidgeting with one another instead of being held behind her. I can tell my words are an impudent invasion that scratch and claw at the walls she’s built.

“You don’t have to say things like that.”

All I can do is smile.

“I wasn’t born with jesters privilege, I’m only saying what I know. I’m not glorifying you.”

And suddenly, i forgot the concept of boundaries.

I blame the aureate iridescence in the paradox of her irises.

“You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She looks at me, confusion capturing her.

“What are you talking about?”

I shrug.

“You’ve saved lives. Protected our clan. Defended us against the sky people. What more can you ask of yourself?”

She stops walking this time. Her eyes staring straight ahead of us.

Her head turns slowly to stare at me. It’s not a look of offense, or fear.

My hand reaches for her back, my palm placed against the small of it.

“It’s just something to think about.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹 ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹 ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎

Y/n’s pov

You stare at him as if he's shown you colors for the first time. Epiphanies impulse under your skin, their unwelcomed and you’re unprepared.

As you approach the large area where other clan members have already sat down with their families, sharing food and laughter, you find yourself wandering astray.

“Give yourself more credit.”

Credit for what? What did you do to deserve praise?

Protected others? It wasn’t a task. It was second nature. If you didn't, what else would they ate from you?

What were you if not the sword and shield? What would you become the day the war ended?

There was no credit to be given. There was nothing to be given because there was nothing left. Because you refuse to repeat your mistakes. To suffer at another’s hand, to suffocate under the wreckage of what was built only to be torn down. Cankered, tattered, stained fingers clutching at the flesh that stretched across your bones, bruises worn like badges of honor.

You were afraid. So afraid of being sheltered and delicate. Being blinded and impetuous.

“Y/n. Come sit with me.”

You feel an arm link with yours, and you catch Kiri at your side.

The stray braids that hung by her neck like vines from a canopy of verdant haven swung while she walked. She guides you out of your solivangant sondering.

Her gestures were laconic. Her eyes marbled over with a generous concern as she whisked you away, grabbing a wooden bowl for herself and one for you as well where they were being distributed.

“Are you alright, dear? You’re zoning out a ton.” She whispers, placing a hand on your back.

You shake every former thought from your head, washing your mind clean.

“No, it is nothing. It’s foolish.”

“It’s not foolish if it’s bothering you.”

She corrects, looking down as she gathers some meat onto her plate from the communal fire.

You shift on your feet, eyes trailing her movements.

“I’m fine. I just..suppose i haven’t eaten enough today. Its making me spacey and slow.”

She nods slowly, her tail lightly swishing behind her.

“Well then, take this plate.”

She hands you the plate she had just finished filling with roasted sturmbeast, and squares of yovo fruit.

You shake your head graciously, handing it back yo her mindlessly.

“Oh Kiri no– no this was yours.”

She scoffs, waving you off.

“I'm more than capable of making myself a new plate.”

She smiles at you, and the familiarity of it is a comfort.

The frail dark bangs that wisped lightly above her eyebrows sweep subtly in the night breeze, the weightless braids that hang on the sides of her head swing softly, you reach your hands out and tuck a strand behind her ear, your fingertips grazing the subtle honey-oak streaks, a delicacy in your touch as if you were handling something a fragile as a flower petal.

“You’re so good to me.” Your tone was beatific, gentle.

She smiles smugly, dragging her fingers across where your collarbones rose and fell upon each drawn breath before handing you the plate once again.

“I’m keeping you alive and fed.”

Lo’ak peaks himself from behind kiri, his tail swishing.

“Kiri can you make my plate next?”

Her smile drops.

“No. Make your own damn plate.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing another wooden piece to start piling with food for herself.

Lo’ak gawks, offended.

“You made Y/n’s no problem!”

“That’s because I like y/n. I tolerate you.”

You laugh as Kiri links her arm with yours, whisking you away to the large dwelling in the center of highcamp.

A large fire with meat cooking over it, and families scattered into their little circles and sat around the ground, people weaving in and out to reach their group.

Some families wave to you, calling out thanks as you walked, because it was you who had hunted the sturmbeest with neteyam they were eating now.

Kiri and you found a seat next to Mo’at. Neytiri, Lo’ak, Tuk, Neteyam, and Jake had not returned yet, so you 3 waited.

“Did you girls get everything you need?”

Mo’at asks, resting her hand atop her knee.

You nodded, taking a seat.

“Yes ma’tsahik. We did.”

There was an unspoken formality between you and Mo’at. Despite her knowing you since you were born. An implicit etiquette that’s been emplaced in you ever since childhood.

She reaches out for your arms, her nails scarcely printing tiny marks on your palm as she inspects your wrist and hand.

“Your cuts are healing.” She informs you, somehow knowing even though your incises from the day before are not visible anymore.

You figured the cuts you got from spider's mask would heal relatively quickly. However, the memories of the accident would leave a different kind of scar.

You gently placed your hand back in your lap, your gaze only flicking away from Mo’at to see Tuk skipping towards your small sitting area with a bow in her hand.

“The lake water might have sped up the process. It’s not bothering me, though. Just another couple cuts to add to my collection.”

Kiri giggles, nudging your arm.

“Another paint stroke to complete the masterpiece. Maybe we should hang you up next to tuk’s artwork.”

You snicker, making room for the smaller na’vi in question as she scurries to your side, snuggling herself in place next to you on the log.

“Healing cannot be rushed, child. Scars are more than just victories. It’s time you know that.”

Tuk gasps just as Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Neytiri find their places in the circle.

She peers her head over your shoulder, looking down at your palm.

“It’s gonna be a scar??”

She blinked up at you with those big, disquieted, doleful eyes. She concernedly fumbled with your fingers, and you have to quickly gather her bowl into your lap with your other hand before it tips off her own with all of her movement.

“Oh no Tuk. I’m okay, love.” You kissed the top of her head, smiling at the way her nose twitched when you did.

“Do you want a kiss? To make it better.”

“Awh, sure. Thank you.”

She presses her lips to your bandaged palm.

“Mwah! All better.” her sweet and stagey movements make you melt, proudly admiring her work.

“Thank you, Tuk-tuk.”

“Mhm.”

She sits back down, and you hand over her bowl.

She starts to eat, carefully picking the seeds out of her fruit slices.

“Are scars good or bad?”

She muffles through a mouthfull of juices.

Jake shrugs, leaning over to wipe the corners of her mouth with his thumb.

“Depends who you ask.”

Neytiri nods, her hand pressed to her chest briefly as she swallowed her bite before speaking.

‘Your father is correct. Scars are pieces of our memories. We carry them with us.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, either. Back where i come from we wear our scars like badges of honor.”

Jake chimes in, setting his elbow on his knee, his back stretching forward.

Mo’at scoffed.

“Don’t listen to your father, children.”

Waving him off, she took a sip from her herbal tea.

Jake frowned, wincing as if he were in a cramping-kinda pain.

“Oh, I think I just got a new one.”

“A what?”

Neytiri inquires, concerned, confused, placing a hand on her husbands back.

“A new scar?”

“From what?”

“My mother in law..agh, how she wounds me.”

Neytiri hisses, a smile breaking from her and my fathers lips.

Mo’at is unamused.

Jake shakes his head as his laughter dies out.

“Come on, I mean, it’s symbolic.”

“Symbolic of what? Stupidity?”

Mo’at chuckled.

“Of bravery. Strength. Survival.”

Jake defies the Tsahik gently.

“Scars are cool.”

Lo’ak agrees half-mindedly, munching and speaking with a full mouth in a similar manner to Tuk.

“Look at y/n. Her scars are badass as fuck.”

You kept your head down. Stuck between accepting it as a compliment or perceiving it as pernicious.

“Lo’ak, we do not speak of others bodies.”

Neytiri sterns.

“Right, and how many times have i told you to watch that mouth.”

Jake rebuked Lo’ak’s word choice rigorously, pinching the back of his neck lightly.

Lo’ak shrunk away from his touch, receiving it with nothing much than a scrunch of his face before continuing.

“Scars are like ways of saying ‘I got through it’. You know? I mean, I’d rather have a scar than the other alternatives.”

Neytiri opened her legs the slightest bit, propping up one crossed as she displayed the inner of her thigh. With delicate fingers, she traced over a darkened discoloration, a jagged scar that dragged across the surface.

“This scar appeared shortly after giving birth to Tuktirey.”

She explained, her tone soothing and benign.

You leaned forward, getting a closer glimpse at it.

Tuk pouted, guilt striking her expression.

“I did that? I’m sorry.”

You gently drew her closer to your side, a small laugh that was horribly compressed left you.

“No, Tuk. You didn’t do it. Some mothers get them after having babies. It’s normal.”

You explained.

Neytiri nodded, smiling graciously at you for explaining so gently.

“That’s right. And it has been with me ever since that day. It’s a symbol. Like your father says. Celebrating the day of arrival for a gift in my life.”

She gently runs her slender fingers down Tuk’s cheek in an affectionate stroke, Tuk giggles at the sensation.

Jake took a swig from his cup.

“Hell, if that’s not strength, I don’t know what is. I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it.”

“Ew dad. We know. We know how the male body works.”

Kiri retorted, appalled.

“I’m surprised mom doesn’t have a scar from giving birth to Lo’ak and his big head.”

Neteyam mumbles into his cup, clearly not quietly enough.

A laugh was shared around the circle, even Neteyam shaking with chuckles as his head hung low for the moment.

Tuk looked at you, big eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You have scars. Do you like them??”

The circle became silent for a moment.

“Tuk!”

Neytiri and Jake both hissed in unison, their tone hesitant, scold-like.

“Tuk, we don’t ask such things.”

Neteyam, always the 3rd parent, corrects softly.

Tuk glances back at you, the sully’s eyes tracking her gaze.

You shook your head, clearing your throat of the hoarsness.

“No, no. Its alright. I mean, we were talking about it, right? No harm in asking.”

You turned to tuk, your eyes softening at the sight of her.

“Most of them, yes. They are symbols, like your father says. Scars are like..stories. Every single one has a place of origin, epitomes of remaining unbroken.”

“I like this one.”

Tuk points to the scar on your shoulder, the zig-zag imprint that dragged across the plate of your acromion almost resembling lightning.

You smiled, letting her trace her smaller fingers over it.

“So do i.”

You whisper.

Neytiri smiles at the both of you. Her gaze holds its tender warmth, radiating its warmth like a sun ray washing your soul.

“My beautiful girls.” She coos, reaching out to kiss Tuk’s head and Tuk a braid behind your ear.

She turns to Kiri, side-gazing at Lo’ak and Neteyam.

“All of you are beautiful. No matter how many scars you have, you are all so much more than what lies on your skin.”

“We’re not beautiful Neteyam and I are stoic, unfeeling, we don’t have time for that.”

Lo’ak affirms, proudly slinging an arm around Neteyam, making him lurch to the side awkwardly, a couple of fruit slices roll off his plate due to the action.

“Lo’ak, my food.” Neteyam swats Lo’ak away.

Neytiri pouts, “No, both of my sons are beautiful.”

She grabs Neteyam’s face, peppering it with kisses before she does the same to Lo’ak.

Lo’ak groans, floundering in her hold.

“Ma, come on..stop..Okay, okay, stop. I’m not beautiful, I’m handsome.”

Neytiri taps his nose with her finger. “You’re both.”

She giggles.

“You’re neither, you hell-raiser.”

Kiri hisses blatantly.

The air remained unscathed of burden as laughter simmered in the air, you found nepenthe with the Sully family, making the night seem so endless it could stretch into the stratosphere.

»»———–➤𖤓☽꩜———–➤𖤓☽꩜———𖤓☽꩜———–➤»»———–𖤓☽꩜———»

You laughed as you spun Tuk around by her arms, the meaningless balter keeping her entertained her laughter.

“Again! Again!”

She laughs, jumping up and down, reaching up to be spun around again.

You smile, grabbing her arms.

“Okay, okay- ready? 1…2..3..”

Supporting her tightly by her forearms, you swing her around as her squeals of laughter flood your ears.

“Y/n, you up for a quick flight?”

It was Jake’s voice that beckoned your attention. You turned away from playing with tuk to see him gathering the wooden bowls in his arms to haul back to the sully’s tent.

“Right now?”

He nods, shifting the pile in his arms. “Yeah. I mean, do you have something planned?”

You can’t remember the last time Jake Sully willingly encouraged anyone in his family to go on ikran out after dark since the return of the Rda unless it was him and Neytiri for the occasional date night.

You turn to Neytiri, who only gives Jake a pensive look.

“Will you be out late?”

He shakes his head.

“Of course not, baby. Just taking Y/n out for a little nighttime crusade.”

Neytiri nods, slowly and pensively as she hands the bowls in her hands over to Neteyam.

There’s a stretch of quiet that spreads through the air. High camp was settling down for the evening. Families gathering up their food and families and eating ware and retreating back to their tents and huts for rest. It was unusual to be out past that tim unless Jake had arranged a patrol group.

“Where are you guys even going this late?” Lo’ak queries intrepidly.

Jake shrugs, starting to walk behind Mo’at, who held hands with Tuk and walked alongside Kiri back towards the sully’s tent.

“Just got something’s to discuss.”

Jake’s answers are succinct and ambiguous.

Neteyam rears himself closer to Jake, his steps carefully matching pace with his father as he carted the woven sack of sitting mats under his arm.

“Will you be discussing the next raid? I can accompany you both if needed, father.”

He glances at you preventively, as if desiring to shape himself into a shield around you.

Jake causally declined his offer, patting his shoulder supportively.

“I think we’re good for tonight, son. You can rest easy.”

Neteyam nods, but you can tell he’s chastened. Jake always kept Lo’ak and Neteyam in this constant cage that clipped their wings, keeping them away from the fighting.

But something tells you this wasn’t about raid planning, or even the war.

Jake hands the pile in his arms off to Kiri, who mumbles under her breath as she tries to catch up with Mo’at. He turns to you, “Y/n, why don’t you run along and gear up Kailo. I’ll meet you at the crevice in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer, Neytiri appears behind him, her eyes softening soothingly, her gaze condemning with concern.

“Please be safe. Both of you.”

She whispered, placing a hand on your cheek and reaching up to kiss Jake’s shoulder.

“Baby, nothing will happen to her or me as long as I’m there.”

Neytiri doesn’t seem consoled.

“Y/n, please keep an eye on him.”

She sighs.

You chuckle, letting her kiss your hairline.

“I promise.”

She cracks a small smile, Jake reaches for her palm. Ghosting her fingertips across her lip, kissing the heel of her palm.

As if committing the feel of her skin to memory, even if he’s not away from her for long.

“Don’t worry I’ll be back before you know it.”

He winks at her, his eyes drifting to the cinch of her waist.

“Ew gross.”

You recoil, scrunching up your nose at Jake.

He rolls his eyes, waving you off.

“Go. Get your ikran ready. I’ll be there in a bit.”

You nod, jogging off to the rookery where your clans ikrans resided.

The air tonight was warm. Undertones of a glass remnants and tattered clouds. You were halfway to the crevice, quieting yourself with your inner thoughts, when you paused at the call of your name.

“Y/n!”

A juvenile voice echoes behind you. High pitched and distinct.

You turn around, and a small Na’vi child comes into view. She has yellow feathers in her hair. A woven grass top and braids that reached her shoulder blades.

Popiti. She was one of your students. She was apart of the group of children Makeyo and you taught archery lessons.

“Popiti! What are you doing here, evi’? (Child, affectionate.)

She scampered to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, smiling wide.

“She wanted to come say thank you.”

Another voice gathered your attention.

A taller Na’vi slowly sweeps her way out of the shadows. Tall. Feminine. Her steps were rushed. They lacked gracefulness. Her confidence was pure forgery, wearing a mask made of fool's gold and a fetish for mystique.

“Kyuna.”

You greeted, your face rather neutral.

Kyuna was only older than you by a year. Regardless of your age, you always surpassed her in most aspects.

Hunting?

She could never finish a hunt. Meanwhile you were dragging home freshly arrows skin-deep in a yerik.

Status?

Everyone is valued in your clan. That was a known fact. But it was you who was named the Olo’eyktan a strongest warrior.

You were stronger. Faster. Smarter.

It made you feel a bit guilty, how often so many didn’t make any effort to make your transcendence discreet.

She smiled at you. It was thin. Fake. Feigning any ounce of genuine decency.

“Popiti here wanted to thank you for y tonight’s meal. It was you who hunted the sturmbeast, right?”

You nodded, still stroking the top of Popiti’s head affectionately

“Yes. I was. It was my pleasure, Popiti.”

You smiled graciously down at the little girl who beamed up at you as if you were everything she ever wanted to become.

“When I get big, I’m going to be a warrior just like you. I’m gonna have a beautiful bow, with carvings and beads just like yours! And I’m gonna have-“

Your heart melts a bit as she rambles on, every word idolizing you.

A sudden hand on her head cuts her off. Kyuna pulls her closer in the opposite direction. Her ability to endure the nicety’s hanging by a thread.

“Popiti, why don’t you run along home.”

Her smile pathetically conceals the bite in her tone.

“But I don’t know how-“

“Now.”

With a small, sad wave, the smaller Na’vi huffs and stomps away.

You tilt your head back up to Kyuna.

When your eyes met hers, you can tell she’s frustrated just by the mere sight of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to rid the awkward intermission from the air.

“It was nice of her to thank me in person. She’s a good kid.”

Kyuna’s arms remained crossed, her gaze distant, occupied with other things

“Mhm. I’m surprised you had time to see her, after all, you’re always busy with the Olo’eyktan or..or those Sully boys.”

Lo’ak and Neteyam were both men but whatever.

She clicks her tongue, raking your figure up and down.

You forced a laugh.

“Well, I am living with them after all.”

“And sleeping with them.”

You snap your head up. The comment a little too dour to be a meaningless joke.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! Y/n, I’m sorry.”

She suddenly gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth that hangs wide open like an animal expecting food.

“I would never mean it like that, I just meant that ever since the clan decided to come up here to the mountains, everybody’s tents became a little…disorganized. Right? You’re sleeping in a hammock with Lo’ak? So I’ve heard.”

You don’t know where the fuck she would even ‘hear’ that from.

You straightened, your patience running thin and your tolerance for jealousy incredibly low.

“It’s two separate hammocks woven together. We’re not sleeping ontop of one another.”

You elaborated, chuckling to yourself.

“Can you even imagine sleeping so close to one of them? Well, I’m sure some would want to imagine it.”

Your tone carried a clear enmity.

Her cheeks flushed, her tail swishing fervently behind her.

Shes nervous now. What happened to all of that confidence?

“Well, I hope I don’t strike you as someone who’s desperate.”

“Oh no, of course not. That’s what makes people so good at it.”

You smiled, locking your fingers together behind your back.

She’s stunned for a moment. Stilling as her imperceptible brain struggles to process everything that’s been said.

“Well, I must be going. I have to meet with the Olo’eyktan. But I wish you a good night, Kyuna.”

She snaps out of her daze.

“H-huh? Oh. Oh yes, good night, Y/n.”

She stares at you. A mix of awe and envy compete for sovereignty.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹 ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

“What are we doing here?”

You and Jake had flown into the night, and landed on one of the mountain tops, the flat rock making space for you both as he sat across from you.

“Have a seat, Y/n.”

You didn’t know why he had brought you there. And you were feeling anxious for n some unknown reason. When you left, Jake insisted you leave your bow and other weapons at home. He promised that you didn’t need them. But how could he know that? How can he possibly understand the stability you felt when those objects were near?

Death, chaos, war, grief, it didn’t wait for anyone. Ever.

“Am I in trouble?”

You asked, nervously shifting on your feet. The rest of the world seemed to drift farther and farther away.

“Y/n.”

“Because If I did something wrong, I can fix it. I promise.”

“Y/n.”

“Jake this is killing me just tell me why-“

“Y/n.”

You felt his large palms cup your biceps, holding you still.

“…yes?”

“Take a deep breath.”

He said softly.

You looked at him puzzled before inhaling in, holding it for a good 3 seconds then exhaling out.

“Attagirl. Are we calm now?”

You nodded, finally sitting across from him, crossing your legs.

He smiled at you, clearly proud of himself.

“Y/n, welcome to your very first therapy session.”

You begged the finest pardon?

You froze.

Did you hear him right?

Therapy. The word sounded familiar. Then you remember that day he told you about it when you both went hunting.

Should you laugh? Be pissed? Both?

“What the hell are you talking about. Jake?”

He shrugged.

“Well, I’m no professional-“

“Clearly.”

“But I’d figured this would help with…”

He considers his next words, opting for gesturing to your entire self with his hands,

“Jake, I love you. I really do. You’ve done so much for me over the years. But I’m about 2 minutes away from rocking your shit.”

Not paying any mind to the threat. Jake waves his arms, ridding your frustration from the air.

“You know what, let’s start over. And please. Just give this a chance, yeah?”

“Fine.”

Jake leaned back, locking his fingers together and resting them on his stomach.

“Usually this kind of thing starts with a simple introduction.

Hi, my name is Jake. And I will be your therapist this evening.”

“Jake you know my name.”

He nods.

“Maybe I know your name yes, but I’m here to know your soul and what energy you put out into the universe.”

“Are you stroking out? What the fuck are you talking about.”

He groans.

“Come on kid, bare with me.”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Okay. Okay. Hi. My name is y/n. And I’m an adrenaline addict. Better?”

“…well, we had to start somewhere.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Authors note:

Stay hating Kyuna. Ik your itching like a bitch without your eczema cream 💕🫶🏽

lol anyways, I hope you guys Enjoyed this chapter. It’s very rushed but I had so much writing sully family fluff. And starting next chapter, we’ll get into Neteyam starting his training with Y/n. And you best believe there is some tension 😌 also you’re gonna have mini therapy sessions with Jake from now on. Remember when they discussed that in chapter 3?? lol.

But I wanted to share a little life update with you guys. I hope you don’t mind. For those of you who don't know, I’m in a relationship. And yes, sme of you probably know him as the guy who was the victim of my cgi faces avatar experiment 🤭

GUYS YOUR GIRL GOT A PROMISE RING 🥳🥳

Now, I don't want anyone thinking I'm bragging or ‘rubbing it in others' faces)’…you guys are the first people I've told. I'm still in shock about it. The point of telling you guys this is that love is beautiful, and I don't think my writing can even begin to express the full extent of that. And one of the many things I love is writing for you guys. I know you guys have never met me and probably never will, and I'm just some person tapping away about blue aliens and posting my silly little rants from time to time, but please know that I appreciate all of you. Every single one of you who read, support, comment, like, repost, my anons, my followers, the friends I've made here, I hope I make you guys as happy as you all have made me. I can’t wait to share my fics and creations with all of you. One of the reasons I love writing for ‘y/n’ and reader inserts is because as someone who has read y/Insert fics, I know how special they can make us feel. So long rant short, I hope I make you guys feel like sexy, gorgeous, devastatingly beautiful, badass bitches yall are ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Taglist 🪐🌑🪻

@fluorynn (my guest of honor 👑)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

@mojo-jojo-1

@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

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

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