tireyun - Tumblr blog

tireyun · 5 months ago

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Memories of you

Hi so I wanted to add a fanfic of mine from AO3, I go by a different name there. I don't really know how posting fanfics on Tumblr works as I'm fairly new to this platform. Any tips on writing would be appreciated. So this fanfic is a sad one and involves character death of Neteyam. Also has a little smut its more hinted at than anything.

Translation:

Tìfnu sivi- Sweet and sour (he calls the reader this) Yawne- beloved/darling Sevin- Pretty/beautiful Skxawng- Moron/idiot

The eight Stages of Grief

Stage 1: Meeting

The waves lapped gently against the shore, the turquoise waters glinting under the midday sun as the Sully family stood before the gathered Metkayina. You were at the edge of the crowd, your arms crossed loosely over your chest, standing beside Tsireya. Your closest friend was practically vibrating with excitement, her wide, curious eyes fixed on the newcomers.

“Forest people,” someone whispered nearby, the word carrying through the crowd like a soft tide. The air hummed with a mix of intrigue and caution, the village’s collective gaze heavy on the strangers.

You didn’t bother whispering. You openly studied them, letting your eyes roam over their unfamiliar appearances—thinner tails, darker skin, strange clothing. The youngest girl clung to her mother, wide-eyed and uncertain. The youngest boy shifted uneasily under Ronal’s sharp, questioning gaze. Their mother and father held themselves with practiced strength, unflinching under the scrutiny.

Your gaze landed on one of the older boys.

He stood just behind his father, shoulders straight and expression calm. The sun caught on the braids in his hair, glinting off the beads woven into them, but it was his eyes that held your attention. Bright gold, sharp and assessing, like they were already unraveling the secrets of this place.

Then those eyes shifted to you.

Your breath caught in your chest, the sudden connection startling. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze sharpened, locking on to yours with a curiosity that felt almost tangible. The intensity of it sent heat rising to your cheeks.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. You wouldn’t be the first to look away.

But when the corner of his lips tilted into a faint smirk, you did just that.

Neteyam had felt the weight of the Metkayina’s stares the moment his family stepped onto the sands of their village. He stood tall, his training kicking in, keeping his posture calm and unbothered despite the murmurs around him. He could feel Lo’ak shifting beside him, the tension in his younger brother almost palpable.

But Neteyam wasn’t looking at Lo’ak. His gaze moved through the crowd, noting their wary expressions, their leaner forms, the way their eyes darted between his family and each other.

And then, his gaze stopped.

She stood near the edge of the gathering, beside the Olo’eyktan’s daughter, her arms crossed over her chest in a way that spoke of confidence. Her expression was unreadable, her teal eyes sharp as they met his.

Neteyam blinked. Something about her struck him—something he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just her striking features or the quiet power in her stance. It was the way she looked at him, like she wasn’t impressed, like she was daring him to impress her.

The corner of his lips twitched.

When she finally broke eye contact, looking away as if she hadn’t just challenged him in front of an entire village, he felt the strangest urge to smile.

Tsireya tugged at your arm as the tension between the two leaders eased. “Come on,” she whispered, excitement bubbling in her voice. “We have to meet them!”

So, you found yourself near the front, standing beside Tsireya and her brother, Ao’nung, as Tonowari questioned the forest family.

“They seek uturu,” Ronal declared after a long moment, her eyes sharp as she scrutinized Jake Sully.

You shifted uncomfortably at the tension that hung in the air, your tail twitching slightly. You weren’t sure what to make of these forest folk—so different, so foreign.

Finally, Tonowari’s voice cut through the murmurs. “My son, Ao’nung, and daughter, Tsireya, will show you our ways.”

“Father, why—” Ao’nung began, only to be silenced by a stern glance.

“It is decided,” Tonowari said firmly.

Tsireya smiled, her expression radiant as she turned to the Sullys. “Come, my friend and I will show you our village.”

Your ears twitched at the words, and you shot her a wide-eyed look of disbelief. “Tsireya—” you started, but she gently touched your arm, her smile unwavering.

You knew what she meant without her saying it. It would be unkind—rude, even—to turn your back on those seeking refuge. Still, you hesitated, your tail swaying in a way that betrayed your unease.

Tsireya tugged your arm gently, her voice soft and encouraging. “Come on,” she said. “It will be fine.”

You sighed quietly, forcing yourself to relax as you followed her toward the newcomers. She approached with her usual grace, her smile as warm as the sun. “I’m Tsireya,” she introduced herself, her voice lilting with friendliness. “This is my closest friend, Y/n.”

You managed a polite nod, acutely aware of how the forest family’s eyes shifted to you. One pair of golden ones lingered longer than the others. Oh, Neteyam.

Stage 2: Bonding.

A few weeks had passed since the Sullys arrived in the Metkayina village, and Neteyam had already adapted to their ways. While his brother struggled to bond and ride with the ilu, Neteyam had tamed his on the first try, gliding through the water with ease. The ilu seemed to respond to him as if they were one, a bond formed instantly in the way his body moved with natural grace. But even as he effortlessly rode across the waves, weaving through the coral, there was one thing that still eluded him—your attention.

From the shore, you watched, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to mask the slight envy you felt for the ease with which he handled the creature. His fluid movements were impressive, though you weren’t about to admit that out loud. His every stroke of the water was smooth, his head held high in that quiet, confident way that made him stand out from the others.

The sun shone brightly on his skin as he returned to shore, dismounting with practiced grace. You stayed where you were, a neutral expression on your face, though your tail flicked with mild annoyance at how effortlessly he managed it.

Neteyam noticed you standing there, arms still crossed, his golden eyes twinkling with mischief. He grinned, his lips curving into a smile that made something tighten in your chest, though you refused to acknowledge it. “What? No applause?” he signed with a flick of his fingers, raising an eyebrow as he slowly approached.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes cool and calculating, as you took in the way he stood tall, his chest rising and falling from exertion. You signed back with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “Show-off.”

He tilted his head, clearly amused. “Jealous?” he signed, leaning forward, his posture playful yet still strong. His accent was thick, the soft, lilting drawl of the forest Na’vi, contrasting the sharper, more clipped Metkayina dialect.

You crossed your arms and shrugged, letting your tail flick behind you. "Not impressed. Even a child can ride an ilu." You signed, your body language firm and unyielding. You weren't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing how impressive he actually was.

Neteyam’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, his interest piqued. He signed back, a question in his hands and a teasing grin on his face. “Is that so? What would impress you, then?”

You smirked, stepping forward, your tail swaying gently. “Maybe if you could keep up with me.” You signed, the challenge clear in your stance as you turned swiftly, diving into the water before he could even reply.

The moment your body submerged, you pushed forward, your tail and limbs moving with practiced ease. You weaved expertly through the coral, not bothering to glance back at him. You knew that underwater, Neteyam’s movements were still a bit off—he was still learning how to breathe properly, how to move with the water.

You heard him follow, but you didn’t slow down, weaving through the rocks and currents with ease. His attempts were strong, but still clumsy, his lungs working harder than yours to keep him afloat. You shot a glance back once, watching him struggle to keep up, his movements determined but less fluid than yours.

You could feel his presence behind you, but you knew he wouldn’t catch you. You were faster in the water, more at home in the currents than he was.

When you reached the surface, you broke through the water, not even breathing heavy as you waited. You looked around to see if you’d won, and sure enough, Neteyam emerged soon after, his golden eyes bright and determined, his breath ragged. His chest was rising and falling, but he still managed to give you that slow, teasing smile.

You couldn’t help but smirk back as you teased, “Not bad.”

He reached the shore next to you, his movements graceful as he pulled himself out of the water. “Not bad?” he huffed, hairless eyebrows raised in a playful challenge. “I was right behind you.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I beat you,” you spoke, your body language confident.

Neteyam seemed to roll his eyes at your confidence, his grin widening. “If you say so.”

The tension between you both was palpable, the challenge not only about the race, but something deeper—something unspoken but still there, like an undercurrent in the water. You both understood it, though neither of you would admit it yet.

As the sounds of the village began to call you both back to shore, Neteyam’s golden eyes lingered on you, a promise in his gaze. “Next time,” he breathed out, “I will win.”

You snorted softly, flicking your tail in a gesture of dismissal. “We will see about that, forest boy.” Your lips curved into a smirk as you walked-no-sashayed away, but you could still feel his eyes on you, burning with the challenge he’d already accepted.

And you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over.

The real race—between you and Neteyam—had only just begun.

Stage 3: Persistence.

Neteyam had been finding more reasons to be near you lately—joining your hunts, shadowing you during quiet moments by the water, and offering his help, even when you didn’t need it. At first, you’d brushed off his persistence, keeping your distance. But his charm and unyielding determination wore down the walls you tried to keep firmly in place.

One evening, as the sun dipped low, painting the skies in hues of orange and pink, you sat on the soft sand near the water. Your fingers moved deftly, weaving shells and beads into jewelry, a quiet activity that allowed you to enjoy the cool evening air. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore was your only companion—until he appeared.

Neteyam appeared beside you, carrying a small handful of shimmering stones. His steps were quiet, almost hesitant, as he lowered himself to sit near you. Without a word, he gently set the stones down on the woven mat in front of you.

“For you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the evening breeze. His accent was distinct—softer, rounder, and noticeably different from the lilting tones of the reef Na’vi. It was thicker than his siblings’, a subtle echo of his forest home, and he was always so soft-spoken.

You glanced at the stones, raising a brow. “I did not ask for anything,” you replied, your tone neutral as you inspected his offering.

“I know,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just thought you might like them.”

You rolled your eyes but picked up one of the stones, turning it in your fingers. They shimmered in the fading sunlight, their colors rich and deep. You muttered under your breath, “They are not to terrible.”

Neteyam chuckled softly, the sound low and pleasant. “I am glad,” he said, the faintest trace of shyness coloring his words.

You returned to your weaving, your fingers deftly threading shells and beads together. Neteyam didn’t leave. Instead, he sat beside you in comfortable silence, watching your hands work with quiet fascination. After a moment, he reached for a few strands of leftover thread and began fumbling with them, his fingers clumsy against the delicate material.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, biting back a smile. “What are you doing?” you asked, your tone teasing.

“Trying to help,” he answered earnestly, though the slight furrow in his brow betrayed his struggle.

“That,” you said with a smirk, nodding toward his tangled creation, “is pitiful.”

Neteyam huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I am not used to this,” he admitted, his tone light. “The different materials you use here…”

You couldn’t help but smile, the edges of your teasing softening. “It shows,” you said, a playful lilt in your voice.

You smirked but didn’t respond, letting him continue his clumsy attempt. He worked in silence, his tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, until he finally held up his creation: a slightly lopsided bracelet made from uneven strands of thread.

“For you,” he said, holding it out with a boyish grin. “To remember me when I am not around.”

You took the bracelet from his hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a moment, the teasing smile faded from your lips. “As if I could forget you,” you said lightly, though the words carried more weight than you intended.

Neteyam’s smile softened, and for once, he didn’t have a quick reply. The silence between you was comfortable, the sounds of the waves filling the space as the air grew heavier with unspoken emotions.

You tied the bracelet around your wrist without comment, pretending not to notice the pleased look on his face. But the warmth in your chest betrayed you—you liked it. You liked him.

And judging by the way Neteyam lingered just a little longer, so did he.

Stage 4: Confession.

The ocean stretched endlessly before you, its surface rippling with the soft glow of the stars above. The night was serene, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in your chest. You glanced sideways at Neteyam, his profile outlined in the moonlight. He hadn’t spoken much tonight, a far cry from his casual teasing remarks and quiet charm.

“What is on your mind, forest boy?” you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice came out softer than intended, but you didn’t mind. Somehow, the night demanded gentleness.

He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was lower, more hesitant. “Everything. My family, my responsibilities…” His pause was long enough to make you look at him fully. Then, his eyes met yours, and you froze. “…you.”

Your breath hitched. Of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. “Me?” you managed, though your voice wavered.

Neteyam nodded, his lips curving into a soft, almost self-conscious smile. “You are not easy to impress, Ma Tìfnu sivi. But I like that. It makes me… try harder.”

Something tightened in your chest. He had a way of saying things that felt simple yet monumental, as though he was peeling back a layer of himself you hadn’t even realized existed. You looked down, trying to gather your thoughts, your fingers instinctively fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you.

“You don’t give up easily, do you?” you asked, trying to lighten the moment, but your voice betrayed you.

His answer came without hesitation, steady and sure. “Never.”

The weight of his certainty left you unmoored. When his hand brushed against yours, you didn’t move away. His touch was warm, grounding, and as his fingers settled over yours, you felt the unspoken tension between you shift into something undeniable.

“Neteyam…” you began, unsure what you wanted to say.

“I’m not asking for anything,” he said quietly, cutting you off. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a small, soothing gesture. “I just wanted you to know. Being around you feels… right. Like this is where I’m meant to be.”

His words landed softly but carried the weight of a promise. Your throat tightened as you searched his face, trying to find a crack in his sincerity. There was none.

You forced a faint smile, the vulnerability in his gaze nearly undoing you. “You’re too soft for your own good,” you murmured, hoping your teasing would mask the tremor in your voice.

His soft chuckle made your heart ache. “Not for you.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into his warmth, letting your fingers curl around his. “I’m not easy, Ma'teyam. You know that.”

His lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

In the silence that followed, you let yourself believe him.

Stage 5: Firsts Together

The night was quiet, save for the distant sounds of the waves and the mingled breaths between you and Neteyam. The soft glow of bioluminescent flora bathed the space in a faint, dreamlike light, illuminating the way his golden eyes held yours. His gaze was steady but tender, like he was memorizing every detail of you in this moment.

His lips found yours, slow and deliberate, as though savoring the taste of your breath. His hands moved to your sides, fingers tracing paths on your skin that left a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch spoke volumes, a language only the two of you could understand.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and breathless, a mix of awe and reverence.

You shivered beneath him, not from the cool air but from the intensity of his words, his touch. Your fingers tangled in his braids, pulling him closer as though the space between you was too much to bear. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly, every movement slow and intentional.

His lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that made your breath hitch. He paused, resting his forehead against your shoulder, his breaths coming quicker now. “Tell me if it is too much,” he murmured, his voice shaking slightly.

You ran your fingers along his jaw, guiding his gaze back to yours. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice steady, though your heartbeat pounded in your chest.

The quiet stretched between you, but it wasn’t empty—it was full of trust, of understanding, of something deeper neither of you dared name aloud.

He moved with care, his touch reverent as though he were afraid to break you, his lips finding yours again as his body pressed closer. The rhythm was slow, unhurried, a delicate dance where every motion felt purposeful, meaningful. You clung to him, your breaths mixing as you lost yourself in the intimacy of the moment. You could feel everything with him, as though your very souls were intertwined through the connection of your kuru. Every heartbeat, every breath, each pulse of emotion was shared between you—his pleasure, his love, his very essence flowed through you as if it were your own. The depth of his feelings, the warmth of his affection, the weight of his desires—all of it vibrated within you, pure and unmistakable. And he could feel you just the same, your emotions, your every thought, everything you couldn’t find the words to say, he could feel it, too. The sensation was indescribable, a beautiful melding of two beings becoming one in the most intimate, profound way. It was as though time slowed, the world around you fading into a distant hum. There was only him, only the connection between you, a bond so strong, so deep, it transcended the physical. You didn’t need to speak—everything was understood without a word. You could feel his love in the way his heart surged against yours, a steady rhythm that matched your own. His pleasure was like a soft wave, gentle but building, and you felt it in every part of yourself, his joy becoming your joy. And as your emotions intertwined, you knew this moment, this connection, was something far more sacred than either of you had ever realized. It was truly beautiful—this sharing, this unity, this deep, indescribable bond. It was more than just physical touch; it was an experience of the soul, of being seen and understood in a way that transcended all barriers. .

The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of his skin against yours, the soft murmurs of his voice when he whispered your name, the way he held you as though you were something sacred.

As you reached the peak together, his hand found yours, fingers lacing tightly, grounding you in the intensity of it all. He rested his forehead against yours, his breaths coming in soft, uneven pants, his eyes half-lidded but still locked on yours.

“You are everything,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with so much conviction it made your chest ache.

"I love you."

And in that moment, you believed him.

Stage 6: Heartbreak

“I love you… Neteyam…”

The words spilled from your lips in a broken whisper, desperate and trembling, as you pressed your forehead against his, fingers running through his braids with frantic urgency. Every touch was a silent prayer, a plea to hold onto him, to keep him from slipping away, but his warmth was fading. His skin, once alive and radiant, was growing colder, and your hands shook as they threaded through his braids once more. You couldn’t let go, couldn’t lose him.

Neteyam was crumpled against the jagged rocks, his body a twisted mess of blood and pain. His back was torn open, the wound too horrific to comprehend. Blood soaked into the earth beneath him, mixing with your tears. His golden eyes flickered between moments of consciousness and deep, painful slumber, the light in them dimming with each breath.

You couldn’t stop your fingers from stroking his braids, trying to find any sign that he was still here with you, trying to hold onto him in a world that was falling apart. Each movement, each caress, was like a broken melody that only you seemed to hear.

Jake, his face pale and drawn, lifted Neteyam’s limp body, trying to assess the wound, the damage. His hands were shaking, and there was a look of helplessness in his eyes that cut through you like a knife. He reached for Lo'ak, pulling his trembling hands to the open wound.

“Put pressure on it, Lo'ak. Pressure!” Jake’s voice cracked, desperate. Lo'ak’s hands shook as he pressed down, but the blood kept flowing, and the weight of the situation was too much for him to bear. His face was ashen, his gaze locked on his brother’s battered body, unable to do more than hold onto him.

Spider stood at the back, paralyzed by the sight of his friend, his face frozen in shock. Tsireya, unable to hold back her tears, stood beside him, her body shaking with the grief of watching their family fall apart.

And there you were—clutching Neteyam’s hand, your tears mixing with his blood, running through his braids, touching him as though somehow, by doing so, you could make it stop. “Please… please, Neteyam. Stay with me.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but the weight of your desperation filled the space between you.

His breath was ragged, each inhale shallow, each exhale punctuated by a violent cough that wracked his body. His blood splattered against his skin, but he still tried to speak, still tried to reach for something, someone.

“I want… I want to go home…”

He was so scared—so frightened. His words barely made it out, the sound of his voice breaking your heart into a thousand pieces. You kissed his forehead again, lingering this time, feeling the coldness of his skin beneath your lips. You ran your fingers through his braids again, trying to bring him comfort, trying to remind him that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You could feel his pain, deep in your chest, a connection between you two that hadn’t yet been severed, even though it was being stretched thin. His hands twitched slightly, and you held them tighter, trying to steady him, trying to hold on to any part of him that still clung to life.

Jake cupped his son’s face, his own eyes filled with fear, pain, and helplessnes s. “I know… I know… we’re going… we’re going home…” His voice trembled as he spoke, his words heavy with the realization that they were powerless to stop this. Neteyam’s breathing was erratic, each inhale a labor, his chest rising and falling unevenly as though his body couldn’t keep up with his fight to survive.

You couldn’t breathe. You were suffocating under the weight of it all. You kissed Neteyam’s forehead again, softly this time, your lips pressing against the coolness of his skin. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough.

His eyes searched frantically, looking at each and every person here until they locked with yours—wide, filled with panic, but there was something else in them too. Love. Fear. A million unspoken words. Finally, his lips parted as if he were about to speak. “Y/n—I—”

But his words never came. His voice was cut off as his body jerked violently, his entire form going rigid. His chest stilled. His breath, once desperate, stopped.

Your world shattered. The sound of your heart breaking was deafening in your own ears. “No… No, no, no…” you cried, your hands gripping his body, shaking him, willing him to wake up, to move, to do anything. "Neteyam! Please! Please!"

But there was no response. His eyes were glassy, lifeless. His skin, once warm and alive, now felt like ice beneath your touch.

And then, the scream came.

"Neteyam!!!"

It was Neytiri. Her voice broke through everything, her scream echoing in the stillness of the night, raw and guttural. She landed beside her son with a force that seemed to shake the very earth beneath you. Her arms reached for him, pulling him close to her chest as she cradled his lifeless form. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but they were full of agony, not air. The mother’s instinct to protect, to hold on, had failed.

She sobbed, her wail piercing through the night like an animal in pain, a sound so heart-wrenching it seemed to break the very spirit of the world around you.

Jake stood frozen beside her, his face pale, his eyes wide, unable to move. He didn’t know how to react, didn’t know how to process the loss. His son—his firstborn—was gone. The reality hadn’t quite set in.

Lo'ak sat at the side, his face a mask of disbelief. His hands were still coated in his brother’s blood and he couldn’t look away from them. From the devastation that lay before him. His chest was heaving, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His body was on the edge of collapse. His brother’s blood was everywhere—on his hands, his clothes—and it was too much for him to process. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, and his stomach churned, his entire body screaming in protest as he fought to hold back the bile rising in his throat.

The world seemed to have stopped. Time felt like it had frozen in place. There was nothing but the sound of Neytiri’s sobs, the occasional cough from Jake as he tried to clear the tears from his throat. And then, the silence. The suffocating silence that followed.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. Your chest was so tight, so full of grief that it physically hurt.

You couldn’t breathe. Your chest tightened as the weight of loss crushed you. You kissed Neteyam’s forehead once more, the feeling of his warmth leaving your lips. You ran your fingers through his braids, desperately, like you could pull him back, bring him back from wherever he had gone. But his body was unyielding, lifeless, still beneath your hands.

You could feel it—the sharpness of the pain as if it were your own heart that had been ripped from your chest. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. Not like this.

Neteyam was gone.

You hadn't even realized it was just you and Tsireya surrounding Neteyams dead body, where the others went you had no clue. Didn't even remember.

The night air was cold, but you barely noticed as you cradled Neteyam's lifeless body in your arms. Your fingers trembled as they brushed through his braids, the long strands soft yet foreign in your touch now. It didn’t feel real. How could this be real? He had been alive just hours ago—he had been full of life, full of everything that made him Neteyam. But now… now he was cold, unyielding, and still.

Your hands moved to his cheeks, fingers tracing the smoothness of his skin, as if you could somehow bring warmth back into his body, make him wake up, just one more time. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go, couldn’t bear the thought of losing him forever. His lips, once soft and sweet, felt stiff beneath your fingers as you gently traced their outline, the faintest tremor in your chest tightening with each second.

“Neteyam…” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the night. The words felt empty, useless, but you said them anyway. “Please… wake up.”

But he didn’t. He never would again.

Your breath hitched, and the silence around you seemed to grow even heavier. Every inch of your being ached to the point of breaking, but still, you couldn’t tear yourself away from him. Not even when Tsireya, standing a few paces back, softly called your name, her voice breaking the fragile moment.

“Y/n…” Tsireya said gently, her voice filled with an unspoken sorrow. She took a tentative step closer, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He is… gone.”

The words pierced you like a blade, tearing into what little control you had left. Gone. That was all. Gone.

Before you could stop yourself, a guttural scream tore from your chest, a raw, anguished cry that seemed to come from a place deeper than anything you had ever known. Your arms wrapped tighter around Neteyam’s body, pulling him closer, as if by some miracle, you could bring him back by holding him tighter, by refusing to accept the truth.

“No! No, no, no!” you cried, shaking him as if your desperation could force him to open his eyes, could bring him back to life. But the body in your arms remained still, lifeless.

Tsireya stepped forward, her voice trembling as she tried to console you, her hands reaching out, wanting to offer comfort, but every time she touched you, every time she tried to help, you pulled away with a sharp, bitter snarl.

“Please, Y/n… it is not your fault."

Her words only made the pain worse. You didn’t want comfort. You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want to hear that it wasn’t your fault, because it felt like it was. You should have been there for him. You should have—

“Don’t!” you snapped, your voice hoarse and raw. You shoved her hand away, not caring that you were hurting her in the process. “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t need your help, Tsireya!”

Tsireya flinched at your words, her face crumpling with hurt, but she didn’t pull back. She remained standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes filled with sympathy, sorrow—and maybe a bit of frustration too. She knew you were hurting. She knew you were angry. And, in some small part, she understood. You had lost someone you loved deeply, someone who had been so full of life. But she couldn’t understand the depth of your pain, not fully. Not the way you did.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms as you pulled Neteyam even closer to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut to block out the sight of his body. You couldn’t think, couldn’t reason. All you could do was hold him, as though he would magically wake up from this nightmare.

But it didn’t stop.

Every time Tsireya spoke, every time she reached out to comfort you, you only grew more and more distant, more irritable. It wasn’t her fault. She was only trying to help, but you couldn’t accept it. You didn’t want her to be kind, to be gentle. You didn’t want her sympathy. You wanted Neteyam back.

Tsireya took a small step back, hurt flashing across her face, but she didn’t leave. She stayed, her tears continuing to fall silently as she watched you. She understood that this wasn’t about her. This was about you and the loss you couldn’t yet face.

She was your friend. She always had been. And right now, all she could do was cry with you, offering what little comfort she could while you pushed her away.

The night stretched on, long and endless, with only the sound of your sobs, and Tsireya’s quiet weeping, filling the stillness.

You could feel your heart breaking, piece by piece, but you couldn’t stop yourself from being angry, from being lost in your grief. All you wanted was for this nightmare to end.

Stage 7: Grief

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting golden rays that danced across the rippling waves. The ocean mirrored the grief of those gathered, its surface calm but heavy with the weight of sorrow. The funeral procession moved slowly, reverently, with a quiet that felt sacred. Neteyam’s body rested on a large leaf, carried by Jake’s ilu. The leaf was intricately adorned with bioluminescent flowers and soft glowing tendrils, a final tribute to the young warrior who had given his life for his family.

Neteyam’s arms and legs were bound in the traditional manner of the Metkayina, his body prepared for his journey into Eywa’s embrace. His hair had been tied back with care, and his face, serene and beautiful even in death, seemed to reflect the peace he had found. The sea breeze carried the faint scent of the flowers that surrounded him, mingling with the salty tang of the water.

You and Neytiri clung to opposite sides of the leaf, your fingers trembling as you held onto the edges. Neytiri’s face was a canvas of raw anguish, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sang softly to herself—a mother’s final lullaby for the son she could no longer hold. She wore Neteyam’s choker around her neck, its beads glowing faintly in the fading light.

Your own grief felt like a physical weight pressing down on you. Your funeral garb was simple, the muted tones of mourning broken only by the vibrant battle band you had tied around your waist. The band, once Neteyam’s, felt like the last piece of him you could hold onto. Your fingers brushed against it often, as if the touch could bring him back.

Behind you, Spider and Kiri shared an ilu, their faces pale and stricken with grief. Kiri’s tears fell silently, her head bowed as she clutched Spider’s arm for comfort. Tuk clung to the edge of the leaf, her small hands gripping tightly as if letting go might mean losing her brother all over again. Lo’ak followed on his own ilu, his gaze locked on Neteyam’s lifeless body, his expression hollow and unreadable.

As the procession moved farther out to sea, the Metkayina gathered around them in a wide circle, their presence a silent testament to the respect they held for Neteyam. The waters around them glowed faintly, illuminated by bioluminescent life that seemed to honor the fallen. Tonowari and Ronal stood at the forefront of the clan, their hands raised in blessing. Ronal, usually so composed, had tears streaming down her face, her voice shaking as she murmured words of farewell to Eywa. Beside her, Ao’nung held tightly to Tsireya’s arm, his own tears falling freely.

The procession slowed as they reached the sacred burial site. Jake’s ilu stilled, the waves lapping gently against the leaf. Neytiri’s voice rose in song, the melody of Neteyam’s songchord carrying across the water. Her voice trembled but did not falter, every note infused with love and grief. The song spoke of his life—his bravery, his kindness, his role as a protector. The words, though foreign to some, were understood by all through the sheer weight of emotion they carried.

You hesitated, your heart shattering as you moved closer to Neteyam’s body. Your hands trembled as they brushed against his cheek, the coldness of his skin a cruel reminder that he was truly gone. You stroked his face, your fingers lingering as if memorizing every detail. His once vibrant eyes were closed, his lips still. A sob escaped your throat as you leaned down, pressing a trembling kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll always love you,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The words felt inadequate, too small to encompass the depth of your feelings.

You lingered, brushing his braids back, your hands running over his arms as though you could still feel the warmth of life in him. Neytiri touched your shoulder gently, her silent plea for you to step away breaking the spell. Reluctantly, you moved back, joining Lo’ak at his side. His face was etched with pain, and without a word, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, your shared grief binding you together as you watched Jake and Neytiri prepare to say their final goodbyes.

Jake and Neytiri moved to opposite ends of the leaf, their hands trembling as they touched their foreheads to Neteyam’s body. Neytiri whispered something in Na’vi, her voice trembling as tears fell freely down her face. Jake’s jaw clenched, his grief barely contained as he nodded silently, his own tears mixing with the ocean spray.

Together, they slid into the water, the leaf floating above as they carefully guided Neteyam’s body into the sea. The bioluminescence around them flared brighter, as though Eywa herself was welcoming him home. Neytiri swam at his head, Jake at his feet, their movements synchronized as they carried him toward the glowing burial anemone below.

The anemone’s tendrils reached out, their soft glow a beacon in the depths. Neytiri and Jake released Neteyam gently, their hands lingering for just a moment before they let him go. The anemone closed around him slowly, its light enveloping him as it carried him into the embrace of Eywa.

Underwater, you screamed, the sound muffled by the water but no less heart-wrenching. Your body shook with the force of it, your grief too vast to contain. Lo’ak reached for you, his own cry silent but just as anguished. His hand found yours, and you clung to him desperately, your tears lost to the sea.

Above the water, the Metkayina began their chant, a hymn of farewell that rose and fell with the rhythm of the waves. The sound was hauntingly beautiful, a collective expression of sorrow and respect for the life that had been lost.

When you and Lo’ak surfaced, your bodies trembling from exhaustion and grief, the reality of Neteyam’s absence settled heavily around you. Lo’ak held you tightly, his arm still wrapped around you as you leaned against him, both of you seeking comfort in each other’s presence.

Neteyam was gone, but the love he had left behind remained—woven into the sea, the sky, and the hearts of those who would carry his memory forever.

Stage 8: Acceptance

The moon cast a silvery glow over the calm ocean as you and Lo’ak swam side by side, your movements fluid and synchronized. The water was cool against your skin, but the warmth of Lo’ak’s hand in yours anchored you, providing a sense of comfort and solidarity. Ahead, the faint glow of the Metkayina spirit tree pulsed with life, its tendrils swaying gently in the current like a welcoming embrace.

Jake and Neytiri had already descended, their figures visible near the tree’s glowing roots. They had gone first, their bond as mates carrying them into this sacred moment together. Now, it was your turn. You and Lo’ak shared a solemn glance, the weight of your grief reflected in his amber eyes, but there was also a flicker of determination—a shared promise to honor Neteyam’s memory.

As you approached the tree, its tendrils reached out, bioluminescent threads undulating like gentle waves. Lo’ak gave your hand a squeeze, a small, solemn smile curving his lips. You returned it, your heart aching with both love and loss. Together, you reached for your kuru, the bioluminescent ends of your braids glowing faintly as they moved toward the tree.

Lo’ak met your gaze, his expression softening with understanding. The two of you nodded in unison, a silent affirmation. Slowly, reverently, you connected your kuru to the spirit tree, its tendrils wrapping around yours with a tender glow.

The world around you faded.

When you opened your eyes, the vibrant world of the reef surrounded you. The ocean was alive with glowing flora and shimmering schools of fish, their scales catching the light like tiny stars. You floated in the water, the gentle current tugging at your hair and skin.

Neteyam was there, his figure illuminated by the soft bioluminescence of the coral. He was laughing, the sound clear and rich, echoing through the water. Lo’ak swam beside him, the two of them tussling playfully, their movements fluid and full of life.

Neteyam spotted you first. “Ah, there she is!” he called, his grin so wide it made your chest ache. He swam toward you with a few powerful strokes, his golden eyes alight with warmth.

“Yawne, what’s wrong?” he asked as he reached you, his brows furrowing when he saw the tears streaming down your face. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the salty droplets. “Why are you crying, Ma Sevin?”

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. His touch, his voice, his presence—it was all so familiar, so vivid, that it overwhelmed you. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, that he was gone.

A shaky smile broke across your face, and you leaned into his hand. “I just missed you, Ma ’Teyam,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

Neteyam’s expression softened, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Missed me? I’ve been here the whole time.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and for a moment, the world felt whole again.

“Hey, don’t hog all the attention!” Lo’ak’s voice broke through the moment, drawing your gaze. He was grinning, though his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Neteyam pulled back, turning toward his brother with an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, baby bro, you are interrupting again,” he teased.

He swam over to Lo’ak and, before his younger brother could react, grabbed him in a playful headlock. “Come here, Skxawng!”

Lo’ak spluttered, letting out a laugh that was half-sob as he tried to wriggle free. “Neteyam! Let go!”

You watched them, your heart swelling with love and bittersweet joy. Tears streamed down your face, but your smile never wavered. This was how you wanted to remember him—alive, vibrant, and full of mischief.

Neteyam released Lo’ak with a laugh, ruffling his younger brother’s braids. “You’re such a crybaby,” he teased, though his tone was warm.

“Look who’s talking,” Lo’ak shot back, several tears streamed down his face as he pointed to you with a grin.

“Enough crying, you two,” Neteyam said, his expression softening as he glanced between you and Lo’ak. “Come on. Let’s do something fun. I know just the spot.”

The three of you swam together, weaving through the coral reefs like you’d done so many times before. Neteyam led the way, his movements graceful and confident as he guided you and Lo’ak toward a hidden cove. The water was shallower here, the sunlight breaking through the surface and illuminating the colorful coral below.

“Race you to the bottom!” Neteyam called, already diving before either of you could reply.

“Cheater!” Lo’ak shouted, darting after him.

You laughed, the sound bubbling through the water, and followed. The three of you spiraled downward, your movements effortless as you glided through the water. Neteyam reached the sandy floor first, turning to flash you and Lo’ak a triumphant grin.

“Last one has to clean Ilu saddles for a week,” he teased.

“No way!” Lo’ak shot back, playfully shoving him.

The three of you spent what felt like hours exploring the cove, chasing fish and playing games you’d invented as children. Neteyam’s laughter rang out like music, his joy infectious as he pulled you and Lo’ak into every bit of mischief he could think of.

At one point, he found a shell and tucked it into your hair, his fingers lingering as he adjusted it. “Perfect,” he said with a smile, his voice full of affection.

You couldn’t stop smiling, even as your heart ached with the knowledge that this was only a memory.

The vibrant underwater world began to dissolve, the edges of the memory fading into the soft glow of the spirit tree. You leaned back under the water, your eyes still closed as the emotions of the memory lingered. A bright smile curved your lips, the ache of loss soothed, if only for a moment, by the warmth of Neteyam’s presence.

Beside you, Lo’ak floated in the same stillness, his expression mirroring your own. The two of you stayed there for a while, basking in the shared memory of the one you both loved and missed so deeply.

When you finally surfaced, the night air was cool against your skin, and the sound of the ocean surrounded you like a lullaby. You exchanged a quiet look with Lo’ak, the bond between you stronger than ever. Neteyam was gone, but he was also here—alive in the memories you carried, the love you shared, and the joy that would never fade.

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