Jake Sully x daughter reader (platonic)
Sully family x sully reader
Being forced onto Pandora and holding Na’vi children hostage just to capture Jake Sully feels like an absolute nightmare. While you're supposed to work for the RDA, you refuse to follow their rules, sticking only to your own.
No amount of footage, data logs, or carefully edited RDA briefings prepared you for this.
The forest of Pandora stretched in every direction touring trees will win together by the roots and glowing vines. The bioluminescent plants pulsed fatly beneath the canopy, casting soft blues and purples across the undergrowth, like a heartbeat.
She was dangerous. And untamed. And breathtakingly beautiful.
And they were destroying it. That much was impossible to ignore.
You had caught a glimpse of the force from the transport before landing, just enough to see how violently it contrasted with the metal sprawl of Bridgehead. Where machines scarred, Pandora healed herself. Where humans took Pandora endured.
You exhale through your nose, tail swaying behind you as you adjust to the unfamiliar weight and balance of your avatar body, longer limbs, sharper senses. Everything felt different—heightened, too vivid, almost overwhelming.
The forest lies ahead of you. Unknown. Alive.
“How the hell did I end up here?” You muttered.
The answer came quickly. You didn’t. They forced you.
“This is bullshit.” You said outloud, finally opening your eyes as you looked ahead of the path ahead.
The leaves crunched beneath their boots as you moved forward with the group, weapons and gears, clinging faintly around you. You stayed far enough from the others to feel alone, but not far enough to escape notice
“What was that, cupcake?”
The voice made your jaw tight instantly. You glanced up to see Colonel Miles Quaritch, his massive blue frame casting his shadow across the forest floor.
You stopped walking and turned fully towards him. “I said this is bullshit.” You snapped, irritation bleeding into your tone. “I’m here against my will!”
You reached up and adjusted the necklace at your throat, fingers brushing over the familiar pendant. You had refused to leave it behind when you linked in, this body or not, it was yours. The last piece of Jake Sully, your dad, you had left.
Quaritch's eyes flickered briefly to the necklace, then back to your face.
“Tough shit,” he said easily. “You’re here because you’re useful.”
You scoffed at him. “Funny. That’s exactly what I was afraid you’d say.”
You didn’t bother lowering your voice. You didn’t care if the rest of the squad heard you. You didn’t care if Quaritch didn’t like your tone. Hell you didn’t like him.
Humans took and took. They were poison to this planet.
You stepped past Quaritch, intending to put as much distance between you and him as possible. His hand shot out and clapped around your wrist.
You hissed sharply, muscles tensing, tail lashing behind you in a flash of irritation and instincts, your body reacted before your mind could catch up.
“Do not walk away from me when I'm speaking to you, Captain,” Quaritch growled, his grip from him, but not crushing, a warning.
You meet his gaze without flinching, slowly. They're deliberately you pride his fingers off your wrist, his grip loosened just enough for you to pull free.
“Or what, colonel?” you shot back, voice full of challenge. “You gonna report me? Reassigned me? Oh wait—can’t. I’m your best tracker.”
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing at you.
For a moment, you thought he would say something. Might push back. Instead, he smirked.
“Keep pushing,” he said quietly. “See where it gets you.” Then he turned on his heels and stalked forward, barking orders to the squad as if nothing had happened.
You followed, but not closely. While the rest of the team stuck to Quaritch, like obedient soldiers, you drifted. Your steps are slower, gaze wandering, letting the forest pull at your attention instead of his command.
That was when you saw it. An opening in the trees. You paused, squinting through the reins. Consumed by vines and mass stood the remains of a structure, all abandoned, human-made. A base.
Curiosity got the better of you as you slipped away from the group without a word, approaching the ruins carefully. Nature had reclaimed it.
You peered inside. Your press caught. A link. Just like the one you were in now.
Your fingers brushed the window frame as a straight sense of familiarity washed over you. Someone had been here, someone had lived in pressed Pandora before I was turned into a battlefield.
The group had moved on without you. You didn’t care.
You stepped towards the doorway when a scream shattered the quiet. You’re having picked it up before your mind processed it, raw, terrified, real. Your senses flared all at once, and without thinking, you took off running.
Your boots hit the ground hard as you sprinted towards the sound, heart pounding, breath steady despite the speed. You burst through the opening.
The squad stood in a tight circle, guns raised, fingers tense on triggers, and there in the center, there was someone…no more than one person.
You heard as you walked closer. You knew what it meant. Be calm.
You pushed past the ring of recoms, boots crunching against the forest floor, the smell of disturbed earth and fear thick in the air. Guns were raised, fingers hovered far too close to the triggers.
And there, right in the middle of it all, were children.
Miles Quaritch stood at the center like he owned the moment, rifle raised, as if this were nothing more than a training exercise.
“Whoa, what are you doing!?” you snapped, angry, flaring, hot, and fast as you shoved past Z-Dog without hesitation. She stumbled sideways with a curse, but you didn’t slow. You planted yourself closer to the center of the circle, eyes flickering rapidly over the scene.
Quaritch didn’t even look at you.
“What have we here?” he said, studying the captives like a predator with its prey. His gaze moved from the human boy to the Na’vi boy as he slung his gun behind his back.
“Hey, Colonel, check it out. Four fingers,” Lyle said, holding the Na’vi girl's hand for Quaritch to see. “We got a half-breed.”
Lyle's grip tightened as he yanked the girl's kuru forward, forcing her to tumble as she let out a pained sound.
“Hey!—” you snapped, launching forward and shoving Lyle hard in the shoulder. “Watch it, asshole."
He staggered a step back but didn’t let go of her. You moved instantly, stepping between Quaritch and the girl without thinking twice.
“Hey,” you said gently, your voice dropping. “You’re okay. I’m sorry. He’s an incompetent idiot.”
She didn’t answer. She just stared at you—wide eyes, tense, and confused. Her breathing was shallow, her body stiff like she was bracing for pain that hadn’t come yet.
You understood. If you were in her place, you wouldn’t trust you either.
For a moment, you forgot where you were, then your arms locked around your waist. You gasped as you were hauled backwards, feet hovering over the ground. Instantly, you drove your elbow back hard, slamming it into Quaritch's ribs with all the strength in your Avatar body could muster.
He granted, but didn’t release you. You know it hurts. You felt the impact. But Quaritch just laughed low in your ears before shoving you aside.
“Easy, Captain,” He muttered. “You’re gettin’ a little too emotionally invested.”
When he finally let you go, you stumbled forward, regaining your balance.
The three Na’vi stared openly, shock, confusion, and disbelief written across their faces. The human boy did too, his brows drawing together.
You weren't threatening them. You weren’t shouting orders. You weren’t hurting them. That alone made you something unfamiliar.
Quaritch turned away from you as if you were no longer worth his attention and stepped towards the Na’vi boy kneeling on the ground, looming over him.
“Show me your fingers,” Quaritch ordered as he pointed at him.
You had half expected defiance in the form of silence or a reckless lunge, something loud and foolish. Instead, he did exactly as he was. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted both hands into the air.
Then, without hesitation, he flipped Quaritch off.
Your lips twitched despite yourself. A quick smart cross your face as you gave the boys a subtle nod.
Yeah. You thought. That tracks.
Quaritch didn’t react as other men would; he let out a low chuckle, amusement curling at the edge of his mouth.
“You’re his, aren't you?” He said, his tone was calm—too calm, like he already knew the answer.
The boy hissed back at him, venom sharp in his voice.
Before you could move, Quaritch's hand shot out and wrapped around the boy's Kuru.
“Lo’ak, don't!” the human boy cried, panic seeping into his voice.
Quaritch tightened his grip on the Lo’ak’s Kuru, yanking Lo’ak’s head back, just enough to make the boy gasp.
Your hands clenched at your side. You took a step forward when you felt an arm snake around your waist, pulling you backwards against a solid, armored chest.
“Where do you think you're going, buttercup?” Lyle said, his voice smug as his grip tightened.
Your breath hitched in fury.
“Get. Off. Me.” You snarled, shoving against his hold, every muscle in your body coiling tight with rage, surging hot. “Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”
Lyle ignored the threats, his grip firm, gaze roaming in a way that made your skin crawl.
Your focus was turned back to the center when you heard Quaritch's voice.
“Where is he?” he questioned Lo'ak.
Something snapped in you. You twisted hard in Lyle‘s arms, planting your foot and throwing your full weight sideways. Your elbow drove back, your shoulder forward, and Lyle lost his balance completely. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, landing flat on his ass.
You didn’t look down at him. You straightened slowly, tail rigid behind your eyes, locked on Quaritch.
Your voice was low and lethal. “I warned you.”
“Sorry, I don't speak English…to buttholes,” Lo’ak said in Na’vi, voice of venom and defiance.
Despite everything, the guns, the soldiers, the hands gripping him, you almost smiled. The kid had fire. Too much fire for his own good.
Quaritch's lips twitched something dark and amused, flashing across his face.
“Where is your father?” He asked again, this time in Na’vi.
His pronunciation was rough, clipped wrong in places, but it was close enough. Close enough to be unsettling. Close enough to prove he’d been listening.
Father? Your thoughts scrambled. Who the hell is his father?
You stepped forward without thinking, placing yourself beside Quaritch, your voice sharp with restraint.
“That’s enough. Let go of him. You’re crossed the line, even for you.”
Quaritch didn't so much glance in your direction. Lo’ak refused to answer. Instead, he bared his teeth and snarled again, a sound raw and feral.
Quaritch's eyes darkened. “Really?” He said, drawing out the word as his hand dropped to his sheath, “You wanna play it this way.”
Steel free with a soft, deliberate sound.
He shoved Lo'ak, sending him crashing to the ground. Before the boy could even recover, one of the recoms grabbed him, forcing him down.
You watched in horror. Not being able to do anything. What could you even do?
Quaritch turned away from Lo’ak, shifting his attention smoothly to the Na’vi girl.
“Hey! Hey! Don't touch her!” the human boy shouted as Quaritch took a step towards the girl, then stopped, turning his head towards the boy.
“Don't hurt her, please.” The plea echoed, fragile and desperate.
Quaritch looked down at the boy, “What's your name, kid?”
“Spider,” the boy answered, “Socorro.”
You frown slightly as Quaritch coached in front of him, studying him with new interest
Your brows lifted sharply.
Miles? The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. That’s his son.
The air felt heavier. You looked between Spider and Quaritch, seeing tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.
“What are we doing, boss?” someone asked from behind.
You resisted the urge to snap at them or throw something at them.
Instead, your gaze drifted to the children. Fear was evident on their faces. The three Na’vi kids and one human boy.
Your head tested slightly to the side, an old habit, one you didn’t even realize you still had. Jake used to do that.
Quaritch stood and pressed a hand to his throat comm.
“Iron Sky, Blue one, Actual.” he was talking to the General.
Your body boiled with anger, hot and familiar in your chest. You hated her. Despised. In everybody, in every lifetime, you hated her. She has signed everything off. The training. The mission. The leash around your neck.
You know exactly what was happening now he was giving her your location. The kids weren’t just captives. They were bargaining chips. High value ones.
The eclipse had settled fully now.
Pandora shifted beneath it, darker, sharper, more alive. The forest breathed differently when the sky dimmed, bioluminescent veins pulsing brighter along leaves and roots, casting ghostly blues and purples across the undergrowth. It was more dangerous during an eclipse. Every creature knew it. Every shadow felt heavier.
But there was still beauty in it.
You must have drifted, your thoughts lost somewhere between anger and grief, because the world snapped back into focus with a shout that split the air
Then everything exploded. Gunfire erupted in frantic bursts, muzzle flashes tearing through the dark as recoms spun and fired towards the trees. An arrow slices through the air, a clean whistle before it strikes home.
You couldn’t help but notice it.
It had hit a recom near you.
Panic erupted, orders overlapped, and boots pounded the ground.
You didn’t fire; you didn’t even raise your weapon. You stood there rooted as if the forest itself had wrapped invisible hands around your feet. You watch them scramble.
Then a woman’s voice cut through the chaos
The sound of it was raw and powerful.
His mother. You thought instinctively.
You watched as Lo’ak pulled the smoke grenade from the recom that was holding him. The yellow smoke filled the air. Lo’ak bit the other recom's arm and then went running after he grabbed the youngest Na’vi.
You finally move, then instinct kicks in as arrows are fired and gunfire. You ducked behind a massive tree, pressing your back to its rough surface, breathing steadily despite the chaos screaming around you.
The forest felt alive. That’s when you noticed it. A soft glow drifted down in front of you. A small, floating shape, pulsing faintly with white and blue light. It moves like it had all the time in the world, untouched by panic or violence.
You froze as it hovered closer, curious rather than afraid, followed by another. They floated around you, sitting gently on your shoulder, another brushing your arms. You didn’t swat at them, didn’t flinch. Something deep in your bones told you not to move.
Carefully, you lifted your hand, and the glowing thing drifted down and rested on your palm.
“What…are you?” You murmured.
More of them gathered, their glow reflecting softly on your skin, armor, and your blue fingers. One settled against your chest right over your neckline, the last piece of Jake you’d refuse to leave behind.
A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. You hadn’t smiled like that…you couldn’t remember how long. Not since before the anger. Before Pandora became a battlefield.
You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the Na’vi man watching from the shadows, still, silent, eyes sharp with caution and awe.
Jake stayed hidden among the roots and shadows, every instinct screaming at him to move, to act—but he didn’t.
The wood spirits drifted toward you like they had been called, their soft glow cutting through smoke and gunfire as if none of it mattered. They touched you—your shoulders, your hands, your chest—and Jake felt his breath hitch painfully in his throat.
His brows knitted together, unease creeping in as his eyes traced your form. The avatar's body was wrong somehow. Familiar in a way he couldn’t place at first, like a memory just out of reach. The way you stood—still, unafraid. The way your tail barely moved. The way you didn’t reach for your weapon even once.
That alone should have turned his stomach with anger.
And yet… You didn’t act like one of them.
He watched as the spirits lifted away, dissolving back into the forest’s glow, until one lingered. Jake leaned forward without realizing it, crouching lower, heart pounding as the last spirit hovered near your chest.
Something glinted. His breath stopped.
From the shadows, Jake watched you lift a necklace, fingers curling around the pendant as if it were something precious, something sacred. The faint bioluminescent light caught its shape, its edges, the worn surface he knew better than his own scars.
His eyes widened, chest tightening so sharply it hurt.
His gaze dropped instinctively to his own chest, where his half of the necklace rested beneath leather and beads, pressed warm against his skin. He hadn’t taken it off once. Not in years. Not through battles, births, grief, or prayer.
You were supposed to have the other half.
RDA armor. Avatar body. Na’vi touched by Eywa herself.
His mind struggled to reconcile it.
Jake had thought of you every single day.
On Earth, under a sky that wasn’t alive. In quiet moments between missions. In the stillness of the forest at night, when his children slept, and Neytiri breathed softly beside him. He wondered if you hated him. If you thought he’d abandoned you. What you looked like now, if you still smiled the same way, if you still tilted your head when you were thinking.
He had told Neytiri about you once, hesitantly, awkwardly, when she carried Neteyam. About a human child. His child. His first. His baby girl.
Neytiri hadn’t known what to say.
A human child? Jake, a father before her?
It had taken time. Understanding. Acceptance.
And now… now here you were: on Pandora, wearing the enemy’s colors. Yet standing untouched by violence, chosen by the wood spirits, holding a piece of him like it was your anchor.
I should’ve come back, the thought hit him like a blade. I promised.
He stayed hidden, muscles coiled, heart breaking in his chest as he watched you, his eldest. His first. His little girl.
And for the first time since he’d come to Pandora, Jake Sully was afraid.
Not of the RDA. Not of war. But of what he might have already lost.
“I miss you dad,” you whispered into the darkness, “You promised me you'd come back…You said you would.”
The words lingered unanswered.
Jake had heard enough. The word, dad alone was enough to steal the air from his lungs. He didn’t stay to hear the rest; he couldn’t. His body was moving, retreating into the forest, like a ghost, instincts overwriting everything else. Neytiri. His children. They had to be safe. This was the priority, had to be.
And yet, no matter how far he went, he couldn’t take the image of you standing there, wood spirits clinging to you as you belong to Eywa herself. The way they moved around you reminded him too much of another moment, another life. The necklace, the way it caught the light and followed him like a wound that refused to close.
You took a deepbreath, slowly pushing yourself up from the ground, gaze shifting towards the aftermath, and made your way to the clearing. Dead avatars, bullets on the ground, arrows.
You swallowed hard as you spted you closer, boots crunching on the forest floor, when a hand shot out calmping around your upper arm. Your body moved on instinct, twisting sharply muscle snapping into place, fingers locking around the attacker's wrist as you shifted your weight to strike; fast, hard, and precise.
Another hand intercepted you mid-motion, gripping your forearm with practiced strength. You turned, growling, already knowing who it was.
He held your arm firm, unimpressed, unreadable. Behind Lyle stood straight, grinning like he had won a bet.
You let out a sharp breath, irritation crossing your face.
“Really,” you said. “You couldn't give me one free swing?”
Lyle grinned wider, he claealy wouldve enjoyed it either way.
Quaritch let go of your arm and turned on his heels. “We move,” Quaritch said fatly. His voice left no room for argument.
You followed him, only then noticing Spider slung over Quaritch's shoulder like cargo. The kid looked so small and vulnerable.
Lyle’s steps fell beside you, “What's the matter?” he drawled, “Not happy to see me, buttercup?” His fingers brushed against yours.
Your reaction was immediate, smacking his hand hard enough to sting, shooting him a glare. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped. “Ever.”
Your pace is quicker, anger and irritation fueling your steps. “Honestly? I was kinda hoping an arrow wouldbe taken by you. Clean shot, killing you on the spot. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? One less problem.”
Lyle laughed at your words, unfazed by them. “Aw, you do care.”
You ignored him, jaw clenching tightly.
The walk to the ship felt endless. Every step pulls you farther from the forest, from that strange, quiet moment you had by the tree. Metal replacing the soft earth beneath your boots, engines roaring.
Once on board, you didn't wait for orders, slipping away from the group and dropping into a seat, as far away from them as possible. You stared at the metal walls of the ship, shoulders slumping forward, fingers unconsciously curling around the pendant on your chest.
Your dad had been here. You could feel it. You felt it in your bones. And somehow that hurt more.
Jake sat alone in Kelku, the low bioluminescent plants casting soft blue and greens woven along the walls. Outside the forest breathed alive, restless, but inside everything was quite... too quiet.
They were leaving. For the safety of The People. For the clan, for their children.
Jake knew it was the right call. As Olo’eyktan, as a father, as a mate, he knew. But his mind would not let him rest.
Neytiri had killed him. Jake had watched her kill him. Jake watched as the life left Quaritch's eyes in his human body. And now he wore a Na’vi body. A demon reborn.
The thought hurt worse than any blade or bullet.
Jake dragged his hand down his face, elbows resting on his knees, and his chest felt tight like something was tearing him in two from the inside. One half of his heart with Neytiri and his children—Neteyum, Kiri, Lo’ak, Tuk—his family. The other half with…you.
The other half had never left Earth.
Was it really you? Or was his mind playing cruel tricks on him?
You had stood with the sky people, wearing their gear, and moving with their discipline.
And yet, Jake swallowed hard. That necklace. His fingers curled unconsciously at his chest, where the moon-shaped half rested beneath his cords. He never took it off: not once, not through the battles, not through the ceremonies, not even when he slept.
All these questions, but too few answers to them.
“Sunshine,” he whispered, voice so quiet that it blended in with the slight breeze in his room. “Is it really you?” The name acced on his tongue. Sunshine.
Footsteps approached softly.
“Ma Jake?” Neytiris' voice was soft but alert.
Jake didn't answer her right away. Nytirri stepped inside and immediately saw the way his shoulder slumped forward, ears low to his head, the distant look in his eyes. This was not the warrior she knew. This was not a leader. Not her Jake.
This was a father's pain. Deep and buried for so long…until now.
She knelt beside him. “What troubles you?” she asked quietly.
Jake looked up at her, his eyes holding sorrow and pain. “I… I thought I saw her,” he said, voice rough. “During the…When we were trying to get the kids. She was with them—wearing their gear.”
Neytiri's breath caught thought she kept her expression calm.
“Her?” Neyiri asked carefully, even though she knew in her heart who he was talking about.
“Y/N,” Jake said, closing his eyes as if saying your name hurt too much, “I don't know if it was really her, but… the Avatar, Neytiri, she looked like her. Older, stronger. And she had it.” His voice broke. “She had the necklace. The one I gave her before I left Earth.”
Silence stretched between them. Neytiri didn’t interrupt him; she listened even as her thoughts raced. The RDA. The sky people, who had taken their children. And you—Jake's first child. His blood in every way that mattered, even if not born Na’vi. Standing with the enemy.
Jake let out a shaky, bitter laugh, “she always said she didn't trust them. From the start. Smart kid—too smart. But I left her there anyway.” His hands clenched into a fist. “I told myself they'd take care of her. That they would be safe with them.”
He glanced down at the floor, then looked at Neytiri, guilt written across his face. “I was wrong. So wrong."
His voice dropped once more into a whisper. “She was so little when I left. I left her in the hands of monsters.” Jake swallowed hard before continuing.
“But Neytiri…there was something else.” He leaned forward, urgency creeping into his tone. “Atokrina. They were everywhere around her. Dozens of them. They clung to her, landed on her shoulders, her arms, and one even restedbhere.” He touched the center of his chest, where the necklace rested. “On the necklace. Just like the day I met you.”
Neytirir's eyes widen, ears perking up sharply. That detail—that—made her heart race.
“Atokirina, do not choose lightly,” she said slowly
Jake shook his head, disbelief and hope intertwined painfully in his chest.
“That’s what scares me. What if she's trapped? What if she's being forced? I don't know what they've done to her, baby. I don't know who shes become.”
Neytiri reached out, placing a steady hand over his cleaned fist, he toached groauded him, calmed him.
“I do not know your daughter,” she said honestly. “But I know this.” She met his gaze, unflinching, calm, and reassuring. “Eywa does not abandon her children. If Atokirina’ surrounded her, then she is seen.”
“Eywa has placed her on a path,” she continued softly. “Not as a sky person. Not fully as Na’vi. But something between. Something chosen.”
Jake stared at the floor, voice barely there. “And if shes walking that path with them?”
“Then she will find her way back,” Neytiri said with certainty. “Or she will change the path itself,” she squeezed his hand. “Now it is up to her to decide what she does with what Eywa had given.”
Jake closed his eyes, his forehead resting against Neytiris, “I just hope…when she sees me,” he whispered, “she still knows I'm her dad.”
Neytiri pressed her forehead to his in return, “A bond does not disappear. It is like Tsaheylu,” she said. “Even across distance. Even across worlds.”
And somewhere out there in the forest of Pandora, you were there, not knowing what Atokirina were, but Eywa had a path set for you.
Bridgehead city. It was all metal, smoke, and destruction to Pandora's ecosystems.
Metal towers pierce the sky, where the trees should have reached. The air was thick with smoke and ash heavy enough to taste, even through your oxygen mask. Engines roaring day and night, the vibration sleeping into the ground, drowning out the forest's natural sweet song, nothing here breathed the way Pandora was meant to breathe.
You sat alone in the center of it all.
Your room, your quarters, was sterile, but spacious to accommodate your after size. The walls were smooth, steel cold beneath your fingers, dim overhead lights cast everything in a pale, white glow so different from the soft blues and greens in the forest you had been in earlier.
You sat at your desk, long blue fingers carefully turning the pages of worn research books. Outside the windows, the machinery groaned and creaked, but inside your room, there was only one peace you ever got here.
You had learned Na’vi in secret. Late nights. Muted files. Jake’s old videos were carefully replayed, slowed down, and memorized. The RDA never noticed, and you wanted to keep it that way.
“Ikran,” you mumbled softly, scanning the image of a sleek, winged creature mid-flight, tilting your head to the side—a habit you had picked up from Jake when you were younger, it never went away, not even when he left.
In English, they were called mountain banshees. What the Na’vi used to get around in the air.
“So that’s what they used to fly,” you said, a smile quietly, tugging at your lips, “figured.”
Your father‘s voice echoes faintly in your memory, enthusiastic and odd as he talked about his first flight into the wind, the fear, and the freedom. He sent videos whenever he could, talking about everything and anything, just like he promised.
“Outstanding,” you whispered, the word instinctive, familiar.
You flipped the page, then another as you scanned the pages until you found it. Your breath caught. The picture showed tiny, glowing seed-like objects for him drifting through their air.
Your fingers traced over the illustration.
“Atokirina,” you read aloud, “Wood spirits.”
Very pure. Secret. Messages of Eywa.
You just tightened with curiosity. You remember them clearly, the way they had surrounded you, the way the air had seemed to almost freeze when they touched your skin.
You flipped to the next page.
You read every word carefully, not missing a single beat, wanting to know more. After all, knowledge was the key to survival here.
The Great Mother. The All Seeing. The Balance.
“She’s…a system, a living network.” You said quietly to yourself. “She’s not a god or is she though? She is the balance.”
Your heart that it’s soft as the understanding settled everything was connected, the land, the creatures, The People. Pandora wasn’t just alive. She was aware.
You leaned back slightly, staring at the ceiling. The sterile metal room suddenly felt heavier than before.
“So that’s why they came to me. But why?” You whispered into the empty room.
You look down at the necklace resting against your chest, the sun pendant glowing faintly under the artificial lights as your fingers curl around it instinctively.
“Why?” The words left your mouth before you even realized you had spoken. It echoed against the metal walls of your room.
Your hands trembled as they rested on the desk, the research book lab cottons to open to the page about Atokirina. The glowing station para tears filled vision.
“Why did you break your promise?” You whispered, though your voice cracked into something sharper, louder, more desperate, angry. “You promised me you’d come back.”
Your chair screams quietly as you pace the length of the room. Tail flickering behind you, restless.
“It’s been years,” you continued, voice shaky, “Years, Dad.”
You pressed your problem against your chest over the sun pendant resting against your skin. Metal was warm from your body, but it felt heavy, unusual, like it carried every member you try not to think about.
“They turned me into this,” you just did focally at yourself at the uniform draped over your tall frame at the weapon rack across the room. “You promised you’d come back, and instead I got handed over like cargo.”
Your throat tightens, and the words start spilling out faster, now unstoppable.
“I wasn’t a kid to them, not really, I was… potential. intelligence scores, combat reflex of adaptability rate. “You got out of a hollow laugh. “They loved that part.”
You distracted him through your hair, pacing faster now, heart racing.
“They said I was special. Gifted. That I could be the best of the best.” Your voice dropped bitterly, tears forming. “And I believe them. At first. I was only a kid. I didn’t know back then.”
Your breathing crew, uneven as the memories flooded.
Training rooms. Endless simulations. Cold structures barked through headsets. Evaluations that never felt like enough. The cruel words and actions.
“If I hesitated, they called your weakness,” he said, quietly swallowing hard. “If I ask questions, they call it insubordination. If I showed emotions, they said emotions got people killed. What was I to do?”
You stopped pacing, gripping the edge of your desk so tight that your knuckles paled beneath blue skin.
“They trained me in everything: firearms, blades, hand-to-hand, tactical tracking, interrogation techniques.” The last words came out heavily. “They said perfection was survival, and I believed them.”
Your shoulder shook, head lowered.
“I didn’t want to become this,” you admitted, your voice breaking completely now as tears flowed down your cheeks. “I didn’t want to learn how to hurt people before I’ve even finished growing up.”
You pressed your hands over your face, trying to muffle the sound of that escape anyway. You tried to wipe away the tears, yet they kept flowing like a river.
“I tried to be perfect because… because I thought if I was good enough, maybe they would treat me like a person instead of an asset… stupid, right?” you said, letting out a choked laugh.
The silence stretched longer, broken only by your own breathing and crying.
“And you weren’t there,” you said softly, anger beneath the softness, “For years. I played your videos over and over. memorized every single stupid story you told me about Pandora. every joke. every promise.”
You let out a deep breath, sitting back down on the chair, head in your hands.
“I told myself you were busy. Those six years were just… six years. Then it became seven, then ten, then more.” You said, as your chest rose sharply, anger resurfaced.
“They called you a traitor to humanity,” you said bitterly, “Said you abandoned Earth. Said you chose aliens over your own people.”
You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and continued.
“But that doesn’t sound like you. It doesn’t. You’ve always had a reason for everything.” You said, looking up at the ceiling, “You wouldn’t just leave me…right?”
Doubt creeping into your voice, exhaustion weighing down every movement.
“I don’t want to capture you,” you admitted quietly, “I don’t care what Quaritch wants. I don’t care what the RDA wants.”
Your gaze drifted towards the window where smoke curled into Pandora's sky.
“I know you’re alive,” you whispered, “He wouldn’t be too obsessed if you weren’t. And I thought I saw you… You looked different, but it was you. I can’t be sure if it was you, though."
You swallowed hard as you traced the pendant slowly, almost absentmindedly.
“I just want to know why,” you said out into the room, as if it would give you an answer, “Why didn’t you keep your promise?”
You looked down at the books, then back out the window.
“I'm tired, Dad.” You whispered exhaustion, creeping into your voice through the anger, shoulders slumping forward. “So tired.”
You looked back up at the ceiling, eyes shut as tears flowed down.
“I keep telling myself there had to be a reason,” you mumbled. “That you didn’t just forget about me, that you didn’t just… move on.” Your voice cracked.
“Because if you did…” You hesitated, fear flickering across your face, ears pinned back against your head. “I don’t know what that makes me.”
You opened your eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to get the tears to stop falling that refused to stop. You stayed silent for a while.
“I just want an explanation,” you whispered finally. “That's all. Just tell me it meant something. Tell me I meant something.”
Your voice faded into the quiet hum of the city. The words hanging in the air like a prayer that had nowhere to land, anger slightly gone, but not fully.
A bittersweet feeling left in your chest.
Okay, y'all, I did it! The first chapter is out. It’s been in my drafts a while. I know, I know! I’m sorry but I had to figure out the taglists.
It’s also becuse I’ve been busy with homework and whatnot but it’s out. I’ll try to get out the next chapter out as soon as possible but I can’t make any promises with how busy I am.
I’m pretty proud of this because I have never written this much before!
@farahtissaiamyloves @tawa321 @elliether @sillymuffintrashflap @smthsmthblahblah @taraelisy @majesticenclavehologram @weasleylovers @txonsyul @daemontargaryenwhore @arcaneh0 @doubelieveme @diariesothehorny @dap11 @mysticalpotat @ayumaaa-23 @dattebayouloser @sylviavf @ziaphene @ilocuras24 @sleepilysworld @nshkilvr @agustdeeyaa
