[teyamwa]

☆ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎NETEYAM SULLY

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎stories are reblogged and credits will be given.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ avatar masterlist

note: this master list updates from time to time + authors will be tagged for credits. If you don't want to get tagged (again), just tell me ^^

do you still love me? by @rayassecretlife

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of miscarriage, dad! Neteyam being a warning himself, just a lot of fluff and angst etc. not proofread

what goes around, comes around by @fleursbending

warning : atwow spoilers, injuries, angst, fluff, character death, blood, some cussing, mild gore (descriptive fight scenes), neteyam sickeningly in lword, established relationship, sully family being <3333, heartbreak!!!!! reader is a badass warrior.

it's you, my heart beats for by @fleursbending

warnings : jealousy, flirting w/o clear consent?, neteyam is so boyfie/bbg here, protective!nete, ur friend is an asshat, hurt/comfort, established relationship, cussing, fluff yippee!

'awlie txon zup by @yawneneteyam

warnings/notes: title translates to 'once night falls'. other translations will be under the piece. I may have changed it a little bit because I was a little confused by the ending of the request but I hope you like it regardless! also let me know if you guys prefer me bolding and italicising Na'vi language or just leaving it as normal! or if you prefer me writing the English instead!

“and then i met you” by @novarity

content warning; — none

sweet by @kiy0ism

content warning; — none

always be by your side by @cupidlot

content : tooth-rotting fluff

casual dominance w teyam by @pxgeturner

content warning; — none

your mighty warrior by @loveforneteyam

warnings: atwow spoilers; major angst, mentions of character death, memory loss, struggle with identity, depression/anxiety, bittersweet ending, fluff

jealousy, jealousy by @blogwithlani

warning: angst, jealousy, fluff.

miss you by @blogwithlani

warning: nothing just fluff

I'll always find (see) you by @shieldedreams

details ⇾ 2,299 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader 

flowers by @aeipathyxhc

warnings: established relationship, worrying neteyam (couldn’t find you and tuk) none? super fluffy!

by the grace [make no mistake] by @loaksky

the tags & warnings — language, more emotional constipation, mentions of blood & injury, childhood friends(?)2l, unrequited love, angst w a semi-happy / openish ending.

illicit affairs by @andraga12

warnings: angst (you have been warned), mentions of death, mental illness, ptsd, description of panic attacks, injury, blood, slow burn, swearing, smut (18+ , minors DNI)

by your hands alone by @cordyce

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

shell-shocked by @shu-box-puns

summary: shells appear whenever you’re around Neteyam.

she is mine by @normspellsman

warning(s): death threats, mentions of death + injuries + blood, reader thinking she’s going to die + accepts it, neteyam going apeshit on an avatar soldier, reader being stabbed, mentions of brutal killings / violence, reader crying, & a bit of dark!neteyam

lawnol a mì te’lan by @vampsywrites

tags: DEATH, ANGST, FEM! OMATICAYA READER, grieving, blood, gunshot wounds, sibling arguments, lo'ak and neteyam's tense situation, fighting, mentions of punching, funeral, established relationships, flashbacks, war

peace by @carpecaelo

synopsis: neteyam tries his best to keep his spirits high as he and his family settle into their new home. his efforts seem to not be in vain as he was brought momentary peace by two somewhat familiar faces. though one of those faces gave him so much more.

[cheolliesvt-deactivated20260131]

Hello! Just love your writing. So I wanna request a Neteyam x reader fic, where their relationship is an arrangement between clans. And at first he is cold and distant but then start to warm up

(Sorry if there’s mistakes in my request, English is no my first language🥲

Beneath the twin suns

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Genre: arranged marriage, cold Neteyam, fluff end

Summary: An arranged marriage brings you to the Omatikaya clan to wed Neteyam, the eldest son. He is cold and distant, treating the union as a duty. Slowly, through shared moments, his walls come down, and duty transforms into genuine, chosen love.

Note: hope you like it, I surely had fun writing it🥰🥰

You had known, from the moment you first learned to walk on the soft moss of your clan’s forests, that your path was not entirely your own. As the child of the Olo’eyktan of the River Clan, your life was a thread woven into a larger tapestry. The alliance with the Omatikaya, reforged after the Great War, needed strengthening. And so, you became the thread that would bind—a promised union with Neteyam, firstborn son of Toruk Makto.

You arrived at High Camp on a day when the mist clung to the mountains like a shy child. The Omatikaya were gracious, their welcomes warm, but his eyes were the exception. Neteyam’s gaze, when it finally settled on you during the formal greeting ceremony, was as distant and impenetrable as the stone cliffs behind him. He stood straight and proud beside his father, his expression unreadable. When your eyes met, he offered only the slightest, most precise nod—an acknowledgment of your presence, not a welcome.

He performed his duties flawlessly in the days that followed—showing you the communal areas, the weaving huts, the ikran rookeries. He introduced you to his siblings: a spirited girl named Tuk who clung to your leg with immediate fascination, a scowling boy named Lo’ak who looked you over with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, and a watchful Kiri, whose quiet, knowing smile felt like the first true warmth you’d encountered. But Neteyam’s voice held no warmth, his touch was carefully avoided, and he called you only by your formal title, “Ma’itan” – the promised one – never your name.

“Your shelter is here,” he said on your third day, his voice flat, gesturing to a newly constructed hut nestled beside his family’s pod. “Close to my family. For safety and… integration.”

“And for convenience?” you dared to ask, your River Clan accent curling softly around the words, a remnant of home you refused to fully shed.

He merely glanced at you, his tail giving a single, sharp twitch behind him. “For the arrangement.”

The first month was a study in slow, persistent chill. You learned the winding, precipitous paths of High Camp, the different, sharper scent of the air here, thin and cold compared to the humid, fertile breath of your river home. You threw yourself into work, helping with the weaving, preparing communal meals, tending to the direhorses. Neteyam was always nearby, a silent, golden-shadowed guardian. He answered direct questions with minimal words, ate beside you in a silence that felt heavier than stone, and retired each night to his own sleeping mat placed as far from yours as the small shared space allowed, his back a firm, unyielding line.

The first crack in his armor came not from you, but from a loran—a small, six-legged creature with iridescent scales that hunted sparkling moss-fleas. It had scuttled into your hut one evening, and you’d yelped, scrambling backward. Neteyam moved with fluid speed, not to kill it, but to gently usher it out with a frond. He turned, and for a fleeting second, you saw not the stern warrior, but a boy trying not to laugh at your reaction.

“It is harmless,” he said, the flatness in his voice tinged with something else. Amusement?

“In the rivers, anything with more than four legs is usually poisonous,” you muttered, embarrassed.

He blinked. “I did not know that.” He paused, as if filing the information away. “I will… ensure the seals are tighter.”

It was a tiny thing. But it was the first time he’d acknowledged your difference as something to learn from, not just tolerate.

The true thaw began with the storm. Not a metaphorical one, but a true, violent tempest that screamed down from the peaks, turning the world into a roaring, grey chaos. You’d been mending a fishing net outside when the first gust nearly sent you tumbling. A strong hand closed around your upper arm, steadying you with a grip that was firm but not harsh. It was the first time he’d touched you without absolute, ceremonial necessity.

“Inside. Now,” Neteyam commanded, his voice cutting through the gale. He didn’t let go until you were both inside the trembling shelter, the rain hammering the ground like a thousand drums.

Inside, the silence was thick, pressurized. You sat on your mat, arms wrapped around your knees, a sudden, sharp pang of homesickness for the familiar, gentle rains of your river basin clawing at your throat. A soft clatter made you look up. Neteyam was building a small, contained fire in the central pit. His movements were efficient, but in the flickering light, you saw the way his jaw was clenched tight, the way his eyes flickered to the violently shuddering door-flap every few seconds. His ears lay flat against his skull.

“You do not like the storms here,” you observed quietly. It wasn’t a question.

He paused, a piece of kindling hovering over the fledgling flames. He was silent for so long you thought he would ignore you. “They are… loud,” he finally said, the word torn from him. “Uncontrolled. In the forest, the trees swallow the sound. They bend and protect. Here, the mountain takes the full force. It feels…” He searched for a word, and in his struggle, you saw a glimpse of the weight he carried—the weight of being the perfect son, the fearless warrior. Here, against the raw fury of nature, that control was meaningless.

“Exposed,” you finished for him, the word escaping in a whisper.

His eyes met yours, truly met them, for what felt like the first time. A flash of yellow in the firelight, wide with surprise and a dawning recognition. He gave a slow, single nod. “Yes.”

That single, shared moment of vulnerability was a seed planted in frozen ground. The next day, he didn’t just point out the hunting trails; he explained why the ikran preferred certain updrafts near the eastern spire, his voice losing its robotic quality as he described the feel of the wind under a banshee’s wings. When you struggled with the more complex Omatikaya knot-work for nets, he didn’t sigh or simply take it over. He sat beside you, his long, calloused fingers carefully undoing your mistakes.

“Like this,” he murmured, his voice low and closer than it had ever been. He guided your hands, his touch patient. “The river reed in your clan’s baskets… it is softer. Our fibers are tougher. You must be tougher with them, but not brutal. There is a balance.”

“I can learn balance,” you said, your focus entirely on the point where his skin met yours.

“I know,” he replied, simply. And the way he said it—like it was a fact, not a hope—made your breath catch.

The ice did not shatter; it melted, drop by warm drop. He started asking questions. Small ones at first. “Does your clan use the same song for the healing numtseng root?” Then deeper ones, asked during long walks to the crystal pools. “What does the river sound like at dawn, when the mist is still sleeping on its surface?” You found yourself talking, your hands painting pictures in the air as you described the luminous blue water-plants that bloomed at night, the playful nips of the ilu pups, the sound of your sister’s laughter echoing across the water. He would listen, his intense focus entirely on you, as if he were memorizing the contours of your memories, mapping your home into his own mind.

One afternoon, you found him teaching Tuk how to tie a specific hunting snare. You watched from a distance, struck by the gentle patience in his face, a side of him you’d never been shown. Later, as you worked together to repair a fishing weir, you said, “You are a good teacher. With Tuk.”

He looked up, startled. A faint, blue blush touched his cheeks. “She is eager to learn.”

“She admires you,” you pressed gently. “They all do.”

He was quiet for a moment, weaving a strand of fiber with precise movements. “It is… a responsibility. To be an example.” For the first time, it didn’t sound like a rehearsed line. It sounded like a burden.

“You do not always have to be the example with me,” you offered, your voice soft.

His hands stilled. He didn’t look at you, but his tail, which usually lay still or gave only controlled flicks, relaxed slightly, its tip brushing the mossy ground. “I am… beginning to understand that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

The final wall fell one evening, after a long day of gathering teylu grubs with Kiri. You both sat on a favorite ledge, a private overlook where the two suns began their slow, glorious descent into a seemingly infinite sea of clouds. The silence between you was no longer empty or tense, but comfortable, filled with the shared, awe-filled peace of the view.

“They call you ‘River’s Heart’ among your people,” Neteyam said suddenly, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Your breath hitched. “You asked about me?”

“I listened,” he corrected gently, finally turning his head to look at you. The dying copper light painted his stripes in molten gold and caught in the depths of his eyes. “When the messengers came. My father spoke of your father’s strength. My mother spoke of your mother’s wisdom. But the warriors who had traveled to your clan… they spoke of you. They said you calmed a skittish pa’li that had thrown a rider. That you know the songs to make the river fish come to the net. They said your laughter is heard often, even when the work is hard.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It is a good name. But for weeks, I only saw the Ma’itan. I did not know the heart it referred to.”

The world seemed to hold its breath. The wind stilled. “And do you wish to know it?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He moved then, shifting from his respectful, careful distance to sit directly beside you, his shoulder firmly, warmly brushing yours. The heat of him was a solid, reassuring presence against the growing chill of the evening.

“The arrangement,” he began, his voice low and earnest, meant only for you and the vanishing suns, “was made by our fathers. It was a bond of duty, of clans. I accepted it. I prepared for it.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a dive into unknown waters. “But this… what is happening here, now… this is mine. Ours. I did not want a bond of duty. I resented it. It is why I was… cold.”

His honesty was a physical thing, stark and beautiful. “And now?” you breathed, your heart a wild drum against your ribs.

He lifted a hand, hesitated, his fingers hovering near your cheek. Then, with a resolve that seemed to finalize his internal battle, he slowly tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips tracing the curve of it with a reverence that stole the air from your lungs. The touch was electric, sending a shiver of warmth through your entire body.

“Now,” he said, his golden eyes holding yours, no longer distant but deep, warm, and terrifyingly sincere, “I find I wish for a bond of choice. I see your strength that is not harshness. Your patience that is not passivity. I see the light you bring to my sister’s eyes and the respect you have earned from my mother with your quiet diligence. I hear the homesickness in your songs at night, and it makes me want to learn them, so I can sing your home back to you.” He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “I see you, yawne.”

The word—beloved—hung in the air between you, a sacred, deliberate confession more binding than any clan arrangement, any promise made by chiefs.

You didn’t answer with words. Tears, warm and silent, pricked at your eyes as you closed the remaining distance, resting your forehead against his in the Na’vi way of kuru, of deepest connection. You felt the subtle shift in him, a release of a tension so old and deep he might have forgotten it was there. A soft sigh escaped his lips, a sound of profound relief, and his hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek with a tenderness that promised everything.

Below you, the world was swallowed by indigo and the first brave pinpricks of star-shine. But on that ledge, a new world was born—not from politics or duty or the strategic needs of clans, but from the quiet, stubborn warmth that had grown, against all odds, in shared silences and gentle corrections, in recognized fears and offered understandings. It had grown beneath the twin suns, and it was, irrevocably, your own.

[prttyyae-deactivated20260330]

⤷ Pairing : Age Up! Neteyam x Na'vi reader

⤷ Synposis : In which Y/N, a Omaticaya na'vi ,one of the best dancer in the clan, delivers an unmatched and provocative performance that captivates the entire clan. As her bold movements draw the gaze of every hunter.Neteyam unravel into a fierce, territorial jealousy.

⤷ Acknowledgement: I would like to formally credit @exerlover for the unique idea of blending the "Rhythm of the Tambourine" with the Na'vi culture of Pandora. All credit for the foundational prompt and artistic vision belongs to them.

────୨ৎ────

In the heart of the Omaticaya, dance was not merely a pastime; it was the language of the soul, and Y/N spoke it with a fluency that bordered on the divine. As the leader of the clan's most elite circle of dancers, her reputation was etched into the very bark of Hometree. She moved with a feline lithe that made the air around her feel heavy, a master of a collective that moved in such perfect, terrifying unison they were often mistaken for a single, monolith. But even among these masters, Y/N was the apex—a creature of sapphire skin and golden fire who held the breath of the People in the palm of her hand.

Tonight, she was a vision of raw. Pandoras eyes. Strands of iridescent seeds were woven into the small of her back, and obsidian beads clung to her hips, designed to clatter with every sharp, rhythmic of her body. She stood at the head of her troupe, her bioluminescent markings pulsing a steady, expectant white. She wasn't just there to perform; she was there to consume the clearing, her spirit already vibrating with the frantic, staggering soul of the pandora.

Across the fire, Neteyam sat with his broad shoulders squared, the flickering orange light dancing off the sharp angles of his face. He was the picture of the dutiful son, the warrior-prince, but his gaze was locked on Y/N with a predatory focus that far exceeded simple admiration. There was a possessive tension in the way his hand rested on his thigh, his fingers twitching in time with her heartbeat. He watched as she took her place, her golden eyes flashing a challenge toward the musicians, signaling that she was ready to set the night on fire.

The first beat.

The drums shifted from a steady thrum to a frantic, tribal gallop, mimicking the panicked heartbeat of a prey animal. Y/N took the center, her body snapping into a sharp, angular pose before melting into a liquid undulation that started at her fingertips and rolled down to her heels. She offered the clan a display of physical mastery that felt dangerously intimate.

Every strike of her hand-drum against her hip was a violent action, a crack that echoed off the stone arches above. She began a series of low, grounded spins, her thighs burning as she stayed inches from the moss, her tail lashing the air in a blur of indigo. She was a vision of Na'vi pheromones and heat, as she rose, she executed a rapid, blurring shimmy of her torso—a movement so precise and intense that the bioluminescent dots on her chest seemed to fuse into a single, glowing light. It was a provocative display of seduction, her muscles rippling under her sapphire skin as she breathed in the heavy, humid air of the jungle.

She spun and spun, a whirlwind of teal skin and snapping braids, her tail lashing the air to maintain a balance that defied Pandora’s gravity. She leaned back until her hair swept the moss, her throat bared to the stars, vibrating her shoulders in a rapid, blurring shimmy that sent the beads across her breasts into a frantic clatter.

And then she began to move through the warriors like a predator choosing its mark. She didn't touch them, but she danced in the space where their breath met hers. Y/N lunged toward a hunter, her back arching so deeply that her braids swept the dirt, her eyes locked onto his with a wild, feline challenge. She vibrated her hips in a staggering, rhythmic isolation that sent the seed-pods on her belt into a frantic hiss, her scent—musky, sweet, and sharp—filling the hunter's lungs.

Across the circle, neteyam’s jaw was clamped so tight his fangs ached. He watched her go from one male to the next, a spirit of the wind that was teasing the very concept of belonging. He saw the way their pupils blew wide, the way their tails twitched in a primal response to her proximity. The sight of her sweating, glowing skin and the defiant, seductive tilt of her head was a needle under his skin. He was no longer the Olo'eyktan's son; he was a male watching his mate display her power to a forest full of rivals, and the proprietary growl vibrating in his chest was becoming impossible to suppress.

As neteyam burning gaze didn't move away Y/N's frame ,the final, thunderous strike of the teng drum didn't just end the music; it severed the air, leaving a silence so sudden it felt like a physical weight pressing down on the clearing. Y/N stood frozen in the center of the circle, her body still vibrating with the ghost of the rhythm. Her chest heaved in jagged, heavy cycles, and the fine sheen of sweat coating her teal skin made her glow with an ethereal, liquid light under the violet gaze of Polyphemus.

For a long heartbeat, no one moved. The clan remained suspended in the trance she had woven, the scent of crushed ginger-root and heated skin lingering in the humidity.

Then, the sound of a single body rising from the moss drew every eye.

Neteyam didn't join in the sudden explosion of cheers or the rhythmic thumping of tails against the earth. Instead, he rose slowly, his movements deliberate and predatory. The jealousy wasn't just a flicker; it was a physical ache in his chest, a hot, roiling poison that surged through his veins. He had watched the way the other hunters' eyes had traveled over the curve of her spine, the way one na'vi had leaned in as if to inhale her very essence, and the way Y/N had played with that attention like a flame.

He walked toward her, not with the grace of a dancer, but with the lethal, heavy stride of a warrior closing in on a kill. The crowd parted like water before a prow, the younger hunters instinctively lowering their gazes as the sheer intensity of his aura swept over them. He stopped inches from her, his shadow eclipsing her smaller frame, his height used as a silent, imposing wall between Y/N and the rest of the world.

He didn't speak. Instead, he reached out, his large, calloused hand wrapping firmly around her forearm. The heat of his palm was a shock against her damp skin. He felt the frantic, rabbit-thump of her pulse under his thumb and tightened his grip—not to hurt, but to remind. His tail lashed once, a sharp, muscular snap behind him that signaled his patience had reached its absolute end.

His other hand slid around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her hip-belt, pulling her flush against his hard, warrior's frame. He turned his head to cast a sharp, warning hiss at the lingering hunters, his ears pinned back in a display of pure, unadulterated possessiveness.

"The People have seen enough," he finally rumbled, his voice a low, guttural vibration that was less a statement and more a warning to anyone still watching. He leaned in, his nose grazing the shell of her ear as he inhaled the scent of her exertion, his voice dropping to a dangerous, private rasp. "You have played your part, ma 'ite. Now, you are coming with me before I lose my mind in front of my father."

[ruya4four]

you kiss all your friends like this? 𑣲

𑣲 neteyam x reader | fluff, suggestive

a/n | hi!! i'm so so grateful for all the support i've been getting recently. like i would never imagine people would actually read my avatar works so wifjefweijf 😭 i've also gotten a few requests and i'm so excited to work on those aswell!! also, neteyam is kinda ooc in this, but i think he's rlly funny in this so :,)

synopsis | neteyam says sky people kiss their close friends. you don’t understand it, but you let him show you. you don’t know what it means yet, only that you want more.

content warning(s) | cheeky neteyam, naive reader, first kisses, escalating physical affection (making out), handsy behavior, parental interruption, mild embarrassment

The wind sifted through the canopy above, weaving restless fingers through the vines that draped lazily from the thick limbs of the trees. Sunlight filtered in narrow golden columns, slipping across Neteyam’s shoulders as he crouched beside you, his braids falling forward, a shadow of amusement curled in the corner of his mouth. His eyes gleamed like the jungle after rain; bright, sharp, and watching you with an intensity that should’ve burned. You were busy weaving, fingers threaded with fine strips of bark, tongue pressed between your teeth in concentration, completely unaware of how long he'd been watching you. He wasn’t subtle, but you’d never looked up in time to catch the grin twisting on his lips, or the way his gaze softened when your brow furrowed just a little in thought.

“Why do you always sit like that when you work?” he asked, voice low, teasing, with the kind of lazy inflection that meant he was trying to get under your skin. His tail swayed behind him, betraying his amusement.

You blinked up, frowning. “Like what?”

He leaned closer, his arm brushing yours, heat trailing over your skin. “Like your whole life depends on what your fingers are doing. Like if you make one mistake, the forest might fall apart.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. “Because I do not want to make a fool of myself. You know that.”

“You could never be a fool.” He said it with ease, like a truth that needed no argument, but the way he looked at you—head tilted, eyes lidded—was a look akin to what mates give each other. 

You missed it completely.

“I’m serious,” you huffed, scowling at the strand that slipped from your braid-in-progress. “This is supposed to be for Tuktirey. I want it to be perfect.”

Neteyam made a soft sound, barely a hum, and sat beside you. His thigh pressed against yours, warm and solid, his skin smelling faintly of crushed leaves and sweat. “She will love it,” he said. “Even if you tie all the pieces backwards. It is from you.”

Your fingers stilled. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

It came without hesitation. Like he was already certain of every word you hadn’t yet said. Like he’d spent moons learning the rhythm of your voice, the exact pitch of it when you doubted yourself. There were so many things he knew about you. How you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. The way your tail curled around your ankle when you were cold. That you never called him by his full name when you were truly angry with him.

But still, somehow, you didn’t notice when he flirted.

He shifted closer, the curve of his mouth sharpening. “Do you want to know a secret?”

You turned to him slowly, wary but curious. “What kind of secret?”

His eyes glinted with mischief, teeth catching in the brief grin that flashed across his face. “One from the sky people. My father told me. It is something they do when they are… very close.”

You tilted your head, shoulders tense, unsure if you were meant to feel wary or honored. “Close? Like mated?”

“No,” he said, voice dropping, “not always. Sometimes just… very good friends.”

“Friends do this?”

He nodded solemnly, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “Yes. It is called… kissing.”

Your brow furrowed. “Kissing?”

He leaned in. “You press your lips to another’s lips. Soft. Maybe warm. It is not about touching bodies. It is… how they show trust. Care. It is not like the Na’vi ways. But it means something.”

You considered him carefully. “You say they do this with friends?”

“Very close friends,” he repeated, his voice dropping even lower, smoky, touched with a sweetness that curled in your chest like the first flickers of a fire. “Friends who mean… very much to one another.”

He saw the hesitation in your eyes and reached for your hand slowly, reverently, like he was handling a wounded bird. His thumb swept the back of your knuckles. “We are close, are we not?”

You blinked. “Of course we are.”

Neteyam’s smile widened just a breath, but there was no cruelty in it, only the soft swell of affection, fond and burning. “I have always known your heart. I see you. And I know you trust me.”

You nodded. “With everything.”

The moment hung there, suspended between heartbeats. The wind didn’t move. The forest seemed to hush, holding its breath. Your pulse beat heavy in your ears, not from fear, but from the strange warmth beginning to unfurl behind your ribs. You hadn’t known Neteyam could look at you like that. Like you were more than bark-woven necklaces and careful hands. Like you were more than a friend.

Still, you asked, quiet but unflinching: “Why do you want to do it?”

He didn’t flinch either. His gaze didn’t wander. “Because you are important to me. I want to… show you. Not just say it.”

You stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly, trying to gauge if this was another game, another soft trick of his tongue, like when he teased you about your clumsy knots or your wild braids in the morning. But he was still, the kind of still that felt sacred, like he was baring something raw and rare.

“Alright,” you said, finally. Your voice didn’t shake. “I trust you.”

Neteyam’s laugh was quiet, breathy, a sound that tasted like joy. He squeezed your hand, then guided you down until you both sat cross-legged, knees pressed together, your palms still joined. His hands were large, warm, and gentle, holding you with a care you hadn’t noticed before, or maybe hadn’t wanted to.

He brought his other hand to your jaw, fingertips brushing the skin just below your ear, and your breath hitched. His touch wasn’t demanding. It was reverent. Careful. Like he was asking permission every step of the way.

“You just… close your eyes,” he murmured. “Let it happen.”

Your heart stumbled, but you obeyed. Your lashes lowered. The forest behind your eyelids seemed brighter, painted in strange colors. You could feel every inch of him. His warmth, his breath, the slow rhythm of his thumb against your cheek.

When his lips met yours, it was soft, curious, like a question. His mouth was warm, and the press of it was light, but sure. You felt the world tilt, just slightly, like the ground beneath your legs had shifted.

He didn’t move fast, didn’t deepen it. He stayed there, close, his lips grazing yours like a whisper, like a vow. You exhaled through your nose, instinctively leaning into him, and the smallest, trembling sound escaped you—half a sigh, half a question.

Neteyam pulled back only a breath, his lips still barely touching yours. “Did you feel that?” he whispered.

You nodded.

“That is how sky people show their hearts.”

Your eyes stayed locked on his mouth, the fullness of his lower lip, the way it glistened faintly where it had just touched yours. His breath fanned across your skin and you didn’t lean back, didn’t blink, barely remembered to breathe. The world around you had not changed, but it felt newly born, as if the trees stood taller and the light had melted gold across every leaf. It was your heartbeat that filled your ears, your pulse that echoed, a thrum against your ribs like distant drums. There was a strange pull in your chest, an ache both exhilarating and unknown, as though your body recognized something before your mind had named it.

His fingers tightened around your hand,  with a firm kind of intimacy that grounded you like a vine anchoring into earth. Your breath fled your lungs in a stuttering exhale, and the small, involuntary giggle that escaped your mouth was light as air, startled and soft.

“So…” you tilted your head, eyes closing just slightly, your voice touched with curiosity, “…your father did this with all his close sky friends?”

Neteyam’s expression fractured in real time. First, his brows lifted, the color visibly draining from his face in a rush of disbelief and horror, his mouth parting as if he meant to answer but hadn’t yet found the words. The silence between you stretched taut, and for a moment, he only blinked, as if caught by a dart to the chest. But then his shoulders shook once, and he let out a shaky, unconvincing laugh.

“Y—yes,” he managed, barely above a whisper. “All of them.”

You gave a solemn nod, like you were weighing this new custom with the same reverence you gave the sacred rites of Eywa. “I see,” you said. “I think I understand now… why they do it.”

He gave a sound, half-strangled in his throat, and his eyes searched yours, frantic and unguarded. The lie hung between you like smoke, transparent but cloying, and he must’ve known how little you believed it. But your tone held no accusation, only a quiet, curious honesty, warm as the hand still nestled in his.

“Would you…” he began, voice hushed. “Would you want to do it again?”

The humming sound you made was quiet but clear, the vibration of it rising from your chest with the ease of certainty. He exhaled, a breath that seemed to unspool all the tension from his spine, and without needing to be told, he moved.

He lifted his hand to your face, palm gentle against your cheek, fingertips tracing just beneath your eye with the caution of someone brushing pollen from a flower. You hadn’t expected him to touch you like that, with a reverence usually reserved for prayer. His thumb rested against your jaw, and your lips parted slightly at the feel of it, a soft intake of breath betraying how much it affected you. He leaned in closer, until your noses brushed. The contact was tender, barely there, a subtle rub of bone against bone, warm and close and achingly gentle.

“Ma’ yawne,” he whispered against your mouth, the words trembling on the edge of sound, caught between truth and confession. His voice was velvet, low and hoarse, shaped by the weight of something he hadn’t dared to say before. You didn’t ask what it meant. You only smiled, mouth curling beneath his, your breath warm as you leaned into the kiss he gave you.

This one was not shy.

Where the first had been a question, this was an answer—full and certain. His lips pressed to yours with a quiet urgency, deeper, fuller, hungry in a way he’d tried to hide. His hand slipped from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, holding you in place as he tilted his head, guiding the kiss into uncharted territory. Your breath caught in your throat, and your hands, once limp between you, rose on instinct to clutch at his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin like vines wrapping around stone.

Your bodies tilted inward, the space between you vanishing until his chest pressed to yours, his thighs bracketed against your knees. The heat of him soaked through every layer of skin, and your pulse drummed wildly where your heart met his, your stomach tightening with a deep, curling ache. He kissed you like he needed you to understand what his words couldn’t say yet, like every press of his mouth was a piece of language, building a story only you could read.

When he finally pulled back, it was only by a breath, his mouth still brushing yours. His voice came ragged, his words shaped against your lips like a spell.

“Relax.”

Your whole body shuddered with the weight of that word. You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d drawn yourself inward, how every muscle had gone taut with the effort of not dissolving. The way he said it. Soft, coaxing, protective, cut through your defenses. Your exhale was slow, trembling, and you melted beneath his hands, your weight pressing into him more fully. The kiss that followed was less urgent, but no less intense. There was trust in it now, not just curiosity, not just wonder, but a sense of giving in.

Neteyam made a sound in his throat, deep and low, like he hadn’t expected the way you melted into him. His hand slid down your back, just enough to steady you as you shifted, your thighs sliding over his, bodies drawn together like branches in a storm.

“I did not think you would let me,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours as his breath fanned over your mouth. His eyes were still closed, lips still parted.

“Why would you think that?” you asked softly, barely more than a breath, your voice threading between you. “We are friends.”

He didn’t answer with words. His silence wasn’t awkward, wasn’t heavy with guilt or uncertainty. His silence was controlled only by the last, fraying edge of restraint. He leaned forward, erasing the space you’d left him, lips closing over yours with a suddenness that stole your breath. This kiss was not shy. It was quiet, but insistent. A low-burning ember set against the skin, smoldering hotter than before. His breath came harder through his nose, warmer now, and the tremor that passed through his body wasn’t subtle.

Your hand moved without thinking, splaying over his chest, your palm landing just above his heart. His skin was hot beneath your touch, his muscles taut, breathing ragged and uneven. He made a sound that was sharp, surprised, almost a growl, shook through his throat and into your mouth, and your body reacted before your mind could make sense of it. Your gasp was soft but clear, lips parting, and in that instant, he surged forward, tongue sliding against yours in a motion so smooth and shameless you whined into the kiss without meaning to.

Neteyam did not wait. His hands slid down your sides,  fingers pressing into your waist as he pulled you fully into his lap, positioning you over his thighs with a possessiveness you had never seen from him before. His body was hot, his pulse thudding beneath your hand like a drumline, and when your hips settled against his, the moan he swallowed into your mouth vibrated through every inch of him. His hands moved freely now, no longer hesitant—one gripping your lower back, the other slipping up your spine, fingers brushing the knots of your necklace, the dip of your waist, the curve of your ribs. The noise that left him was low, pathetic, as if he couldn’t contain the sensation of having you so close, so pliant, so willing.

Your tails flicked between you, brushing, curling, twisting in the chaotic rhythm of your bodies. His moved like it was alive with its own hunger, wrapping and twitching, a mirror of his building tension. Yours betrayed every spike of surprise, each involuntary thrill that coursed through you with every glide of his tongue against yours, every possessive pull of your body closer. Your breathing grew unsteady, helpless against the way his touch mapped you like a newly discovered land, like he wanted to learn every inch of you through fingertips and lips alone.

Neteyam’s hand slid up, into your hair, searching with purpose. His fingers caught the thick braid that lay over your shoulder, and he gave it a firm tug, sharp enough to jolt your attention. Your lips parted from his with a wet gasp, eyes wide, lips damp and swollen. You blinked up at him in dazed confusion, a sound barely escaping you. You didn’t speak, but your expression asked everything: What is it?

He stared at you, lips parted, chest rising in quick, uneven heaves, his golden eyes darkened and wild. His mouth opened, the beginning of a thought taking form on his tongue, the truth curling just behind his teeth.

But before he could speak, the branches overhead rustled.

Not in the distant way of wildlife. Not in the idle, lazy way wind tousles the leaves. This was footsteps. 

Neteyam froze.

The tension in his body snapped taut, like a bowstring drawn too far, and his entire frame locked beneath you. His hands went still. His eyes widened in alarm, lips still hovering close to yours, his breath caught like a trapped animal.

Neytiri’s silhouette slipped through the canopy.

The sight of her; tall, radiant, fierce, descended like cold water over hot stone, hissing through the air. Her presence was quiet but impossible to ignore, a gaze sharp enough to pierce bark and bone alike. She said nothing at first. She only stood, eyes moving slowly between you and her eldest son, face confused.

Neteyam reacted fast. Too fast.

His hands gripped your waist and lifted you off him in one fluid, practiced motion, depositing you onto the soft ground beside him as though your body had burned him. His posture straightened, jaw clenched, tail tucked tight around his thigh, ears snapping back flat in alarm. He looked every bit the warrior-in-training again, despite the rapid flush of color that still stained his cheeks, and the unmistakable wet shine on his lips.

Neytiri stared at you both, her brow arched, arms crossing over her chest. “What is this?”

You blinked at her. A beat passed. Neteyam looked one gust of wind away from fainting, and your own heart thudded high in your throat.

You smiled.

Sweet. Innocent. Like the question was about gathering berries or collecting beads.

“Kissing,” you announced brightly, tilting your head. “We were kissing!”

Neteyam made a noise—a strangled, horrified groan—as his hands flew to his face, dragging down across his features in sheer disbelief.

LMFAOOOOOO i struggle with writing him so much but like i said he is such a funny character. just lying abt what his dad said.. ik what u r neteyam.

[ayoeluawsiteng]

birds of a feather

you, dedicated to the wind and sea, agree to an arranged marriage with Neteyam. will the current carry you home?

part 1, wc: 3.3k

part 2

tags: aged-up Neteyam, fem pronouns, pining, post-AFAA (by 10-ish years), Tuk is a menace

As Olo’eykte of the Tayrangi, Ikeyni had never been one for subtlety or avoidance; in all things, she was direct – pushing and pulling others and their decisions like the wind.

You felt the change in your mother long before she called for your counsel. Despite her enthusiasm for making a strong verdict, she could often dance around a choice like an ikran at play. For days, she had been looking at you sideways, taking stock of who you were and who you could become. On this morning, you felt her decision in her silences, in the way she moved with purpose as she applied her body paint.

No matter – the wind was calling your name. While being daughter of the Olo’eykte often came with responsibility and rules and expectations, your mother would never deny you a morning of freedom. Without a word of her seemingly settled heart, you left your home for the skies.

Oh, the air. How it sang, and whispered, and breathed. How the sun beat upon your face, how the breeze numbed your cheeks, how the spray of the sea reminded you of possibilities yet unforeseen.

You never felt closer to Eywa than on the back of your ikran, Vitra; the steady beat of her wings was an echo of your heart. Today, the Eastern Sea was relentless, crashing against the cliffs and sending flashes of sunlight throughout the air. With a yip at Vitra, you sent her upwards, spiraling into the sun before plummeting towards the water in a freefall.

Despite the rush of wind in your ears and the thrill of adrenaline throughout your body, all you could feel was clarity. Here, doing this – this was what you were meant for. With a sharp tug on the bond, you pulled Vitra horizontal, skimming the waves as they crested into whitewater. You leaned down, feeling the current with your fingertips. Despite the calluses littering your palms from years spent at flight, you could read the smallest change in pressure. A storm, still far out, would hit in the next few days. The cooler current pulled you in the direction of home, letting you know that a chill was bound for the village.

Vitra let out a sharp noise that disrupted your thoughts, indicating that time was moving faster than you would have liked – soon, you would need to head back, to finally hear the decision your mother had spent days inwardly deliberating over. Listening to the sound of waves hitting the cliffs, you sped upwards once more, before twirling warily back towards responsibility.

“Daughter.”

The first word out of your mother’s mouth was sharp, not full of reprimand, but of promise.

After sending Vitra sky bound once more, this time without you on her back, you had headed to the council chambers. Here, you knew, you would find your mother. Once, when you were young, your mother had taken to the skies with every opportunity she could, racing the sun across the sky. The years spent fighting the Sky People had changed her – she was no longer as free as she once was, no longer the mother who greeted each day in the saddle.

“Daughter,” this time said in a murmur.  Reaching out a hand to you, she indicated you should join her on the woven mats littered across the floor. Here, choices were made and listened to.

You kept quiet, knowing that whatever was coming would be sure to impact you in some way or another. Did the watch rotation need to change? Were hunts not providing the needed yields to feed the community? Did dwellings need to be reinforced before another blustering storm hit home? While all of these questions flew across your mind, your mother collected your hands in hers, pressing your fingers inward towards your palms. As potential successor to Ikeyni, it was important to know the answers to these questions, to think of others before yourself. Mentally, you shook yourself for perhaps ignoring the signs that all was not well.

Finally, she spoke, “It is time. You have pushed this off, and I have allowed you.”

Oh. A different conversation entirely, one that had come up once, but never again.

“I have loved your freedom, your passion for the air and the sea. You are wild and loyal at heart; but now… it is time to do your duty to your people.”

You had wondered when she would push you. At 25, you were old by Tayrangi standards – and while you were formidable in the skies and mentored by your mother to one day make difficult decisions, you knew that you could never truly take over the mantle as clan leader until you had chosen a mate.

“Daughter… you will always have a choice.” Reading the conflict upon your face, your mother brought your hands close to her heart. “Meet him and see. Get to know him. Feel his push and pull, if the life with him would be what you yearn for. Only you can decide your path, my child. As you have loved your freedom, I will grant you the ability to decide your fate.”

An arranged marriage, then. She had found someone. A duty, an expectation. But also… she knew you would never truly give your life and your body if you did not feel you had agency in the choice. You remained silent, knowing that she would soon drop the name that would perhaps contour your life for all the days to come.

“Neteyam. That is who I wish you to marry – a formal alliance with the Omatikaya people, with our friends from the forest. We have joined them in battle, we know the steadiness of their hearts and hands.”

Ikeyni peered into your eyes, aiming to understand your reaction. Still, you remained quiet. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest and your ears and fingertips.

“Neytiri and Jake are good people and worthy leaders. They have raised a strong and kind son. I believe you will be content with him, especially since he is the finest ikran rider the forest has seen in a long while. You will not have to give up the wind, my daughter.”

A moment passed, as you pulled your hands away from your mother and looked down at all that you had earned. These hands had carried you through the wind, through the current, through loss and pain. Could they learn to hold another? Could they forsake the sea and the life you had always loved? Would your calluses change and migrate across your hands, learning a new way of being?

“And what is gained in return? What do our people receive in my leaving?”

Your mother smiled small, the wrinkles at her eyes deepening – a visible reminder that despite all the suffering your people had endured, joy was still a possibility. “Oh, my child. How it both warms my heart and pains me that your first question is not of yourself, but of others.” This time it is Ikeyni who looks down at her hands, now clasped in her lap. She is nervous, you realize, as she twists her fingers. You feel a rush of compassion for her, for all that your mother has experienced, for all that she has gone through. This is her first life, too, and this could not have been an easy conversation to prepare for.

“Like any arranged marriage, there will be goods exchanged, promises made and kept. Toruk Makto suggested establishing regular trade and further strengthening of our bonds.” She looks up, her words now slow in their emphasis, “You will perhaps get to visit on occasion, delivering herbs and supplies from the forest. You will get to ride the sea again – I will be able to watch you grow and bloom as a woman, a leader, a mate. You will not be a stranger to me.”

You feel a sharp squeeze in your chest, as water suddenly swims across your vision. You understand now, what this alliance could give you, what your mother has brokered for you. Freedom, the ability to live a life that can be full of all that the wind carries. A single tear slips past your eye, tracking down your cheek, before you wipe it away quickly. “I would like that very much,” you finally manage. “If I must marry, let it be this way. Where I can still see my people, my mother, and my sea.”

As more tears threaten, you agree, “Yes, mother. I will marry Neteyam.”

The journey to the forest takes days. Your mother insists on stopping regularly, meeting with clans and leaders you hazily remember from your youth. From a rational standpoint, you know this is needed – bridging gaps and building relationships is a core part of being Olo’eykte. In your body, though, all you feel is restlessness and a kaleidoscope of what-ifs.

Could this have been your life, if things had been different? Would you now be preparing for a life with the direhorses of the Olangi, with the Olo’eyktan’s young son of 20 who greets you shyly? Or would it have been more fulfilling to be paired with the loud, animated man from the Zeswa clan, who spins you around spiritedly during the nightly dance? Or would life have been more intriguing with the studious, collected Na’vi from the Tawkami people, whose steady presence collecting herbs reminds you of the balance of life provided by Eywa?

Somehow all of them feel like pieces of who you are or could be, but with none of them do you hear the calling of the wind.

When you finally reach the forest, your heart has aged years.

From the sky, the jungle seems enormous, never-ending – you could almost convince yourself that it is the sea, just a different shade. When the floating mountains appear, you gasp in awe. What a challenge it will be when you finally are able to fly free, to dart and spin and fall through these crevices and caverns. You hear it then – the air begins to whisper of what could be.

That afternoon, you are greeted by Toruk Makto and his mate, Neytiri. They appear from above, as if falling in from an unseen abyss. How quietly they fly! With a large smile, Neytiri yells to your mother to land on a floating island ahead of you.

Your future family – what will they be like?

When Vitra lands, you can feel the mountain beneath you swaying gently with the air. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you). We are happy the journey has been safe,” Toruk Makto says with a smile, his hands making the traditional greeting gesture as he sits atop his mount.

Neytiri is less formal. Within seconds of landing, she has slipped from her ikran and has moved to your mother’s side. “Oel ngati kameie, Ikeyni.”

As your mother gets off of Pxän, she smiles widely, in a way you haven’t seen in a long while. “Neytiri. Oel ngati kameie. Oh, how happy I am to see you well and whole.” As they embrace, you find yourself unable to look at them for long. Can marrying into this family be an addition, rather than a loss? Will you be gaining another mother, instead of losing one?

Neytiri pulls back, and looks at you with a smile. “Come. Our village is still a bit of a journey, and we should try to be back before eclipse.”

Your first impression of the Omatikaya people is of noise. Their village is loud – with people singing, dancing, yelling, playing, fighting. And how many people there are! Your home, in comparison, seems gentle, even with its raging waves and wind. The Omatikaya have stopped bracing themselves for the worst; they have lived through everything imaginable, and you can tell, even at first glance, that they refuse to give up living.

As you unload your belongings and part with Vitra for the night, you wonder how you will fit in here. While you have your own experiences with loss, you can’t help but feel like it is a puddle compared to their sea of grief.

Walking behind Toruk Makto and Neytiri, faces turn towards you and the sounds of the village fade to a hum. While you have never particularly liked the feeling of the paint your mother favors, you wish for it desperately now, if for only something to hide behind. Nonetheless, you force your shoulders back, looking ahead to what the future may hold.

Following the procession of your mother and the Omatikaya leaders, you enter a woven tent, your eyes finding two young women standing at the center.

“Ah! You must be Y/N. Welcome to your new home! I’m Tuk, I’m so excited that you’re here, you would not believe how long I’ve waited for this. I mean, really, Neteyam has needed to get his shit together for a while, I think this is going to be good for him,” one of them babbles rapidly, barely stopping to breathe. Her eyes are expressive, exaggerating her words by their quick blinking.

“Tuk! That is enough. Where is your brother?” Neytiri interjects, her eyes sharp.

The two young women look at each other, as you shuffle your feet nervously against the ground. “Well… you see, we’re not sure. He was definitely here for dinner, but now… who knows,” the other woman states, before looking quickly at you. “Hi, I’m Kiri.” You nod at her, unable to find your voice in all of the movement of the last few minutes.

A rustle behind you – and then – “I’m here, mother.” You feel his heat before you see him, your back warm from his presence. As he steps around you, you get your first look at your soon-to-be betrothed.

Neteyam.

He still wears his rider’s mask, pushed up slightly on his forehead. He stands taller than you, with wide shoulders and braided hair, his adornments practical yet speaking of his status as the son of Toruk Makto. His cheeks are flushed, the purple tint marking a windswept flight. He is beautiful and untouchable and you feel his pull before you even realize what it is.

He greets his mother with a quick kiss on the cheek, before turning to your own. “Ikeyni, oel ngati kameie. It has been too long since I have shared the wind with you. I hope your journey was safe,” his voice is rich, deep and steady like the sea at peace for the night.

His eyes find yours then, “Oel ngati kameie. Hello.” Just like the nod you shared with Kiri earlier, you incline your head slightly, your words stuck in your chest. You can tell he is examining you as much as you are him.

Then it is Toruk Makto who speaks, breaking the charged glance you’re sharing with his son, “Ok. Well, it’s been a long journey for you both. Would you prefer to discuss some of the logistics tonight, or rest on it for tomorrow morning?”

Your mother begins, “Let’s discuss things tomorrow, I think that would be best.” She turns to you with a look, gone so quick you can’t interpret what she’s trying to convey. Perhaps it was her encouraging you to say something, to make an effort. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was her reminding you of how air and water can be gentle too, soft and brave.

With a glance downwards at your calluses for courage, you find your voice, “I think tomorrow would be best. Although, if it’s alright, I would like a moment to speak with Neteyam before we find our rest.” You glance upwards at him, finding his yellow eyes already on you.

Neytiri asks, “Neteyam?”

He answers, his eyes still locked on yours, “Yes, alright.”

You hear Tuk then, “Oof, right down to business. I like her already.” Neteyam breaks your stare to glance towards his sister, his gaze now using his own family’s inside language. Quickly, everyone leaves, your mother giving you a quick squeeze on the arm and a small smile as she exits.

Be brave, you tell yourself, brave like you were on your iknimaya, brave like when you faced your grief, brave like when you started again.

So, you take a deep breath and begin, “I know your brother Lo’ak and his mate, Tsireya, well, and I know of your time on the reef. Since you have both experience with the land and the sea, I hope you may understand what I mean.” Neteyam says nothing, but when you look up, he nods for you to continue.

“When I envision my future, it flows with the push and pull of the wind and water. Never stagnant, present and felt at all times,” you say, your voice faltering, but gaining strength as you speak. Your eyes are now locked on him, trying to read if he picks up on your meaning. He says nothing, so you gather your courage again, and speak truthfully.

“I want a mate who is a partner – who I can rely on, who will carry the weight of expectations. Who will bring down their mask for me, who I can bring my mask down for. Who I can share the burden of the day with, but who also finds the joy in the push and pull. Who I can fly with.” Still, he says nothing, but you can tell he’s listening closely by the way his eyes are locked on your mouth, on the way your lips are shaping the words you speak.

Be brave, be brave, be brave. “What do you wish for in a mate? I want this to be something we both want, that we can build together.”

Silence greets you. When it’s clear you won’t say anything else until Neteyam says his piece, he begins, “I wish for steadiness. For someone I do not have to perform for, someone who is not… another weight to bear.” You nod, his answer brief but to the point, not such a different answer from your own.

“My mother has given me the freedom to choose, to choose the life that I want. But I want you to have that choice too,” you say, the words feeling like relief as you say them. Let us ride the same current, you think.

“Before we begin courting, I must know – is there someone else you would rather be with?” Neteyam doesn’t answer, his eyes still locked on you, so you continue, “I do not ask this with the assumption that you have never had a woman or that there haven’t been people important to you, but I ask because I do not want to be a barrier to the life you want.” Still he says nothing, as if knowing that there is more for you to say. “I want this partnership to be something we both choose, that we both cherish. A life is a long time – I don’t want either of us to spend it with someone they wish was another.”

His eyes serious, Neteyam finally responds, “No. There is no one else I am considering for a mate.” You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, noting that his response is not the same as saying there is no one else in his life. You nod, looking down at your calluses again.

“Is there anyone for you?” This question surprises you, and you look back up at him.

You find yourself grinning, slight and small, “No – only the air and sea call my name like a lover.” A smile slips from Neteyam now, the first you’ve seen. It knocks you a bit off kilter.

“Ok,” he responds, a man of few words, of silence and pauses and serious looks. Could this be the life and man you’re meant for?

But you’ve started this conversation, so it’s important to finish it, “Shall we give this a try? My mother suggested a three-month courtship, which seems both long and short, especially when deciding what we want the rest of our lives to look like – but maybe it will tell us if there’s at least an inkling of a possibility of us both being happy.”

Neteyam is the one to look down this time, shifting his weight from side to side. Peering into your eyes once more, he fixes his gaze on your face. “Yes. Let’s try.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! part 2 & 3 should be posted hopefully soon 🤞 also a big thank you to @plum98 and @uzmacchiato for the dividers!

[urlocalfeiner]

Flipped | neteyam sully

a/n: based on the movie flipped! loved writing this so so much enjoy!

pairing: neteyam sully x fem! omaticaya! reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, slow burn, she fell first he fell harder

masterlist!

the first day you saw neteyam sully, you flipped.

something in those dazzling eyes sucked you in so deep the moment you first saw him. you knew even back then, that you could never return from the hole you had fallen into.

being 8 years old and naturally curious, when you saw a boy while you were playing by the waterfall, spotting him attempting to catch a fish, you just had to get a closer look.

“do you need help?” your young self smiled wide eyed at him, hands innocently behind your back as you swayed back and fourth on your heels in anticipation.

the young boy eyed you, “I’m okay.” he gave you only a short answer, but you didn’t let that make you sway.

“do you like fishing?” the boy did not even realise you were still standing there.

neteyam was confused, he did not know who you were. “uh- yeah…”

“same!”

"neteyam!" a voice called, a woman who you knew to be one of your fathers friends. "come on help your father."

you could see he didn't wanna go. so you chased after him to see if you could play a little before he got trapped inside. the next thing you know, he's holding your hand and looking right into your eyes.

time felt like it slowed down for your 8 year old self- but for neteyam he felt like time needed to go faster, he quickly ripped his hand from yours. running to hide behind his mother.

he was so cute, he was flustered from holding your hand you thought. peeking out from behind his mother who chuckled at the interaction.

what neteyam sully didnt realise back then was that short interaction, was just the beginning of millions of more. you never left him alone after that.

no matter how much he tried to run away from you, you never got the hint. when you were both 12, when he thought that maybe just maybe you might give it up- you proved him wrong.

“neteyam!” he winced, hearing your voice from behind. Neteyam never tried to be rude to you, he was taught to always be a gentlemen- but you really did test his limits. “do you want to have a tea party with me?” you spoke catching up with him, your smile wide.

“Uh…” he racked his mind for any excuse he could find. “Sorry- i have training with my dad.” Good one he thought.

“can I train with you?” but not good enough to keep you away.

“it’s just me and my dad.” hoping you would get the hint.

shrugging you spoke, “it can be me you and your dad.” your 12 year old self was convinced neteyam sully wanted you to train with him, he was just nervous- so you would make it easier for him. “I don’t mind, dont worry.”

by the time his 13th birthday came around almost everyone around him knew how you were with him, and they couldn't seem to have enough fun teasing him.

“Y/n and neteyam sitting in a tree,” lo’ak sung to an annoyed neteyam. “K i s s i n g.”

it was bad enough fhat he had you always following after him, but now when you weren’t around he was constantly reminded of you.

“shut up.” neteyam grumbled at his younger brother, rolling his eyes getting up from his spot on the floor- he needed fresh air desperately. stepping outside of his family’s hut, sucking in a deep breath of air.

that was when he heard it, “neteyam!” His head searched for where your voice came from, was he hearing things now? oh no he was really going crazy. “Up here!” he craned his head back, looking up seeing you perched up in a large tree just opposite your family’s hut- which lucky for him was next to his.

“come up here neteyam!” calling out to the boy who was confused, “it’s so nice up here.” neteyam was not going anywhere near that tree. he didn’t need to make things worse for himself.

When you two were 16 and training together, all he heard was your voice. “I think they should start a plant grove down by the base of the home tree. It would be very sustainable…” he tuned the rest of your ramble out, honestly he did not get why you cared so much about everything.

he did not understand anything about you for that matter, you were someone no one quite knew what to think of. but 16 year old neteyam knew what you were, odd.

“what do you think they should do neteyam?” he was pulled back into reality, you not noticing he didn’t listen.

“i dont know.” he shrugged

“Thats okay.” you gave grace to neteyam, after all your mum told you boys develop slower than girls so they are destined to be a bit more stupid. “Let’s just say you like the idea.”

he didn’t understand why the universe seemed to punish him so much at such a young age, no matter how much he tried you were always right there- every training lesson you were somehow in the same group as him, you called it destiny he called it bad luck.

“dad.” he needed to end this torture. “I cant be in the same group as y/n.” He put his hands down on the table in front of him, his eyes begging his father who raised an eyebrow at his son’s eagerness.

“why?” He wondered why you had him so riled up, “it’s okay son if she makes you nervous, girls at your age are-“

he cut his dad off before he could even say anymore, “no!” he groaned, “it’s not like that.”

Jake did not believe him. “Sure son,” nodding in false belief at his eldest who was red at the ears. “but I can’t change you out of the group, it’s just the schedule.”

neteyam groaned, his head falling onto the table with his arms.

“neteyam, someone is here for you.” his mother called, he peeked up from where his head was hidden- he knew who it was before even having to get told.

“mum-“ he panicked, frantically looking around for a place to hide. “tell her I am not here.”

his mother shook her head. “neteyam,” she warned, giving him a look only a mother could. “she is a nice girl, you should go and hang out with her.” great how even his own mum was conspiring against him!

you waited outside patiently, rocking side to side on your heels as you usually did. humming quietly to yourself. you weren’t originally going to stop by to see neteyam but your gut told you to make a pit stop- and you always listened to your gut feelings.

neytiri emerged once more from the entrance, “i am afraid neteyam isn’t feeling well today,” she began, neteyam begged her to tell you he was sick.

your eyes went wide, this must be why you were pulled to come by! “oh no…” you gasped, “I will retrieve herbs for him to make him feel better!” you started, “dont worry miss sully.”

“Oh no-“ before she could even stop you, you scrambled off in a hurry. Neteyam needed your help and you were set on being the one to save him.

neteyam sighed contently, sinking into his hammock- his shoulders finally relaxing at the peace and quiet, happy that he convinced his mother to make you go away. he was about to daze off when you appeared.

“neteyam.” you whisper yelled, he jumped, nearly falling out of his hammock. was he in a nightmare? “I heard you were sick,” his eyebrows furrowed, forgetting the lie his mum told. “so I got you atuff to make you feel better.” you opened your satchel which held many different plants and herbs that you had collected for him.

“What?-“ he suddenly remembered he was suppose to be sick. he didn’t know why he couldn’t just tell you to go away, he just couldn’t get the courage to- he found it easier to just avoid you rather than face you. “Oh yeah-“ he fake coughed, why was he even going to this extent. “i am feeling very sick.”

you frowned, “it’s okay neteyam,” you felt so bad for him, “you will be fine you just need to rest.” he felt bad for you, you stared at him with so much concern in your eyes- wait no you were annoying and never left him alone, he did not feel bad. "here, eat this." handing him a bowl of a weird concoction.

he winced, staring down at it then back up at you, gulping- why could he not bring himself to tell you that he didn't want it?

you both were 15 now, though you grew you still managed to stay the same in neteyams eyes- you were still that little girl who wouldn't leave him alone. "hi neteyam!" smiling at him as you walk past him and a group of his friends, he nodded back politely.

"neteyam just said hi to his girlfriend!" one of his friends shoved him playfully, the rest of the group erupting into roars of laughter teasing the sully boy about you- his whole face turned red in embarrassment from the jokes.

that was it, neteyam finally had enough of you and everyone teasing him- he was 15 and already had a problem that was weighing down on him like no other. he had to tell you to leave you alone, this was the day.

he puffed out his chest, posture straight and head held high as he made his way over to you. determined to put an end to his torture. before he had even reached you, you somehow knew he was approaching and turned around meeting him catching him off guard. "y/n i need to talk to you." your heart thumped in your chest, was this the moment you had been waiting for? neteyam sully was about to confess his feelings to you.

"yes." your tail swayed excitedly behind you, patiently waiting for your whole year to be made.

he opened his mouth to speak, and all the words that he had been practicing to say got stuck in his mouth. the confidence washing away fast and suddenly. leaving him frazzled and a mess. "i uh-" why couldn't he tell you to leave him alone? why was this so hard for him? "i like the tree outside your house." he mentally facepalmed, he needed to remove himself from the situation as fast as he could before he made an even bigger fool of himself. "okay- bye." he scurried away leaving you confused.

"bye?" you waved at his retreating figure, you shrugged it off- you knew he probably just got cold feet, after all you knew neteyam was shy, he would get around to it eventually.

neteyam slumped in his spot at the dinner table that night, poking at his food on his plate. "whats wrong son?" his father spoke up, neteyam sighed angrily.

"y/n is my problem," he sucked in a deep breath, "she won't leave me alone- she is so annoying."

lo'ak and kiri gave eachother a knowing look, lo'ak snorting to himself earning a death stare from neteyam.

"well, why do you dislike her so much?"

the question made neteyam pause for a second to think about, everyone went quiet waiting for the boy to answer. he should know what he didn't like about you, everything you did annoyed him- the way your hair fell down your shoulders- how loud you were-how.... "she just is annoying." was all he could come up with.

jake gave neytiri a knowing look, "now son," he started, "i think i know what is happening here." neteyam raised an eyebrow, "you like her and don't know how to show your feelings. it is natural at your age with the changes in your bod-" neteyam shot up from his seat, his ears and cheeks flushed with pink.

"i do not like y/n!" was all he said before storming out, the entrance flap swinging angrily as he exited.

how could his dad say that? how could he say that when neteyam so obviously disliked you and everything you did? his angry thoughts were silenced by a sudden branch that fell on him, his neck snapping upward from where it came from.

it was you, the root to all his 15 year old problems. "neteyam- come up here! the view is amazing!" you could see the whole forest top from where you sat on the highest branch.

neteyam groaned, walking away. he thought he was alone finally before he heard footsteps. "what's wrong neteyam?"

he wanted to say, you! youre my problem but instead he said. "nothing, i just want to be alone." his tone flat.

nodding you continued to follow him, "i get that, when i am upset i like to be alone as well." he kept waiting for you to walk away, "my grandma says that if you are upset you should blow on your thumb because it regulates your nervous system- you should try it!"

blow on his thumb? yeah he would pass that. "thanks for the advice." he grumbled, rolling his eyes- he thought you wouldn't notice it, but for one of the first times you realised he didn't want you near.

you weren't stupid, you could hear the sarcasm in his voice after you spoke, it stung more than you would like to admit-

"can i just be alone right now y/n-" turning to where he thought you would be, but you were no longer trailing behind him like you usually were.

and for a reason neteyam could not understand he wished you were still there.

at 17 neteyam started to become a man, his shoulder broad and wide, his chest always puffed out and muscular- in your eyes he was a god. you were still waiting patiently for the day he would ask to court you, you were sure it would happen.

"i brought you some beads neteyam," you had walked up to him after one of his hunts, "i wanted to congratulate you on completing your hunt." you had spent all day searching for the perfect beads for him to wear.

neteyams lips fell into a tight line, "uh, thanks." he cursed himself mentally as he took your gift, why couldn't he just tell you he didn't need them? "they are nice."

all neteyam sully ever wanted was for you to leave him alone.

your smile grew wide, "i knew you would like them!"

the rest of the week you were on cloud nine, you were so excited to see neteyam wearing your beads in his hair- but you stopped dead in your tracks as you saw him, standing with another girl- katarina.

you felt a pit form in your stomach, watching as she smiled, hand in hand with neteyam, handing him beads! katarina, the girl who you had sworn was your mortal enemy ever since she laughed at you at age 6.

there she was, holding hands with neteyam! your neteyam! and he didn't look disgusted or aggravated, he wasn't awkwardly replying like he did with you- he was smiling and laughing with her.

your brows furrowed, forcing yourself to walk away from the horrible scene- no he was just being nice, no way would someone as deep and thoughtful as neteyam fall for someone as shallow as katarina?

weeks followed and you tried to shove the imagine of them together out of your head, but one day you were taking a stroll in the woods- searching for herbs to give to neteyam like you did every month.

when you stopped suddenly, your ears twitching as you heard two voices. you recognised one of them, it was neteyam! you quickly rushed to where his voice came from, you were going to surprise him! but as you grew closer, you heard the other voice- katarinas.

what where they doing in the forest together?- you didn't mean to spy on them, you just were curious by nature. you crouched down in a nearby bush, quietly as you saw them, neteyam and her sitting next to eachother weaving a basket.

your heart sunk, you had always wanted to do that with neteyam. you couldn't watch any longer. you were about to turn to walk away when you heard your name, "why is y/n always following you?"

you sat on the edge of your heels, waiting for his response. "i dont know," his shoulders shrugging, "she kind of just always has done that." your eyebrows furrowed.

katarina laughed gently, "why? does she have a crush on you or something?" speaking in a mocking way.

neteyam didn't know why, but he hated the way she spoke of you- like you were a burden. "i don't know." of course he knew you liked him, you made it obvious.

"hm.." she hummed, her fingers guiding the leaf through. "well my mother says her grandma is a bit," she spun her finger around her head, "coo-coo."

neteyams brows furrowed, "what?" he wanted to yell at her, tell her she was wrong- but nothing came out.

"what i am saying is, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

you were waiting for neteyam to defend you, to tell her that you weren't coo coo, or your grandma. he knew you and your family, they were always so nice to him- and the two of you were such good friends.

but when he replied with a nod and a 'yeah' in agreement you sat there astonished, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. did he really agree with her? did he think you were crazy? he was a coward.

"what is wrong dear one?" your grandma questioned you, grinding herbs as you sulked next to her.

you were about to shrug it off, but your grandma was a wise woman- she saw what others couldn't, but you really did not want to speak about the boy, "its nothing." she hummed in response, you knew she did not believe you- but she was not one to pry.

"it is never nothing my child." your grandmothers words always dipped deeper than the surface, you often wondered how she always knew what to say. "is it that sully boy?" you sat, playing with your own hands. your silence confirmed her theory. "why do you like the boy?"

"i guess it's something about his eyes, or maybe his smile."

"but what about him?" you furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant. "you have to look at the whole landscape my child."

"what does that mean?"

her eyes softened looking at you, stretching her hand to yours. "a painting is more than the sum of its parts. A cow by itself is just a cow, a meadow by itself is just grass, flowers... and the sun peeking through the trees is just a beam of light, but you put them all together... and it can be magic."

you didn't understand what your grandma meant at the time, you just nodded in agreement. it wasn't until later in the day when you resigned to your favourite spot, at the very top branch of the tall tree. when her words went from your head into your heart.

the gentle breeze kissed your skin, the light slowly falling on the horizon, waving goodbye as it descended past the trees. beautiful oranges and shades of pink painted the sky- it took your breath away. sitting up so high, seeing the view that you couldn't properly see from down on the ground.

there you realised what your grandma had meant, it was the sum of all its parts that made it beautiful- all of its features worked together to create something beautiful as a whole but that in itself made it more than its whole.

people being the same, they were all the sum of their parts. your mind began to wander to neteyam again, this time you thought of what your grandma had said earlier- was neteyams whole more than the sum of his parts? beyond his eyes and his smile and the sheen of his hair, look at what’s really there.

it was then you realised your crush on neteyam was just an assemblage of parts, not a judgment of his character. you weighed neteyam by his actions and courage, and the sum no longer equalled magic.

neteyam set out on his afternoon hunt the next day, he never realised it before then- but he found himself waiting for you to join him, like you always did when he went on his little journeys. but you never came, he pushed the feeling away, he didn't care you weren't here. you were annoying and never stopped talking, it would be good this way.

so why did he care so much that, you, y/n- the pain in his backside wasn't there?

he shortly learned that it was not just that day you had decided not to annoy him, you had stopped all together- when he walked by you, you did not bat an eye at him. you stopped knocking on his familys hut every month giving him herbs. you didn't check up on him when he was down.

you had become apart of his schedule without him even realising it, now he felt as if his days were not complete- like something, or someone, was missing.

you also realised you had almost revolved all your days around neteyam, now that you did not want to be around him you found yourself having more time on your hands than you once thought you did.

so instead of doing nothing all day you decided to tag along with your grandmother for the day, she often spent her days with mo'at in the healing tent- maybe you could learn something useful.

the whole day you spent helping them prepare treatments for the next war party, you could feel mo'ats judging gaze on you- she did not try to hide it either. she studied your body language, each movement under her watch. until she finally spoke up.

"you have a healers touch, my child." mo'at commented you grounding the herbs, that fact surprised you- she was never really the woman who gave out compliments. "very rare that one is born with the gift from eywa."

you felt so honoured to have been praised by the tashik, "thank you tashik." bowing your heard with a large grin on your face.

"your grandmother tells me you spend alot of time in the tree next to your house." mo'at casually said, her eyes sparkling with something unfamiliar as she looked at you.

you turned to your grandma, embarrassed at why she would share the information with the leader of the clan. "uh yeah-" you fumbled, "it is a beautiful tree, you can see the whole forest from it i swear." you loved talking about your special corner of the world. "when you are up there it feels like you are on top of the world."

you didn't really know why but the weeks following after that you spent most your days with mo'at and your grandmother, even on the days your grandma wasn't there you were with mo'at.

she enjoyed your company, she asked alot of questions- that you were more than happy to answer.

one day you were sharing a story of what you had seen that morning up in your tree, mixing soft honey while doing so. "the light rose and it beamed onto my skin, i bet if i could touch light it would feel like soft silk."

it was then it clicked why she enjoyed your company so much, "my husband says the same thing." she spoke of him like he was still there, in ways he always would be. she took a slow pause before speaking once more, "you remind me of him, you have a strong heart, free spirit."

neteyam could not fathom why his grandmother was spending more time with you than she ever had with her own blood. he would always see you dip until her tents flap, not coming out until the day had finished.

"why is y/n always in your tent grandma?" neteyam asked the question he had been waiting to ask for weeks now. mo'at was patching him up from a fall he had suffered after trying to save lo'ak from a nasty attack from a thanator.

his grandma did not blink an eye, "she helps me with healing duties."

that did not fufill neteyams curiosity, "doesn't kiri help with that though." mo'at slowed her motions, stopping to peer into her grandsons eyes. neteyam suddenly felt nervous as she stared as if she was looking into his soul.

after a few silent seconds she began to move again, "you think about the girl alot." she said as more a statement than a question.

neteyams face burned, "no-" he did not care about what you did. "i don't think about her alot." he denied it. "she is weird and annoying."

mo'at hummed, "yet you are still here asking about her doings." he couldn't give a reply to that, he had no answer to it.

his grandmothers voice haunted him throughout that night, twisting and turning in a mental battle in his head. why did he want the answer? why did he care so much that you were spending time with his grandma?

so he did what he did best, he buried his feelings deep within him self- swearing that they would never resurface. he believed that if he ignored it, it would eventually fade away.

he was wrong.

time had gone by without warning anyone, before anyone could stop and focus you and neteyam was about to turn 18 and were about to finish your ikiyama- your right of passage, becoming apart of the people for good.

all of the na'vi coming of age stood in a circle, the clan surrounding them graciously. slowly connecting eachother with touch, feeling hands touching his shoulders he welcomed the feeling of belonging.

his heart was beating out of his chest, he glanced around at all the other young adults that were being welcomed into the clan with him- all of them sharing the same body paint as him. when his eyes stopped on someone, not someone- you.

you wore the body paint proud, your smile wider than ever- he didn't know whether it was the glow of the bioluminescent freckles that dotted your skin, or the glow from the clans spirit, but he felt like you were glowing in that moment.

in that moment neteyam sully felt his world shift on an axis, it felt like his feet had been swiped off from the floor below him.

when had you gotten so beautiful? he was staring at you, but he was in too much of a shamble to even care. neteyam could not think of anything else for the rest of the ceremony, even as he was being welcomed into the clan all he could think about was sneaking another glance at you.

the air filled with laughter and joy at the after party, everyone thrilled at the official new members of the clan. "is this seat taken?" neteyam glanced up at the soft voice, nearly choking on his food realising it was you.

"no!-" he calmed himself down. "no, it's not." you smiled politely at him, sitting down on the log next to him. his heartbeat stopped in his chest, slowly looking at you- you were even prettier up close.

talk to her! was all his inner thoughts were screaming at him to do, he took a deep breath in, turning to speak to you- but before he could open his mouth he closed it right away. you were speaking to a person beside you, the back of your head facing neteyam. he had missed his chance to speak to you, but when he sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils your sweet scent filled his senses- had you always smelled so divine?

that was the start of neteyam sullys world, flipping upside down.

when you were 18 you started changing, neteyam didn't mean to notice the way your features were slowly maturing- or the way your hair sat on your shoulder and swayed in the wind. he noticed that about everyone, at least thats what he told himself.

you were no longer the odd little girl that he met that day by the waterfall, you were a woman. he doesn't even know when it happened, one day he looked at you and realised that you were beautiful.

you walked with a sense of pride wherever you went, your strode into battle with grace and dignity unlike anyone he had ever seen. you used your bow like it was an extension of yourself, striking whatever your target was with exact precision.

you were now a warrior, selfless and kind, one of the clans best. forged in a war you were born in.

due to that you were the lead of one of the groups for the defence line for the war party, meaning neteyam had to see you almost every day.

you never even batted an eye towards his direction, only speaking to him when it was utterly necessary.

"bro," lo'ak puts his hand on his brothers shoulder, "you need to stop staring at y/n during war party meetings."

neteyams eyes widening in panic, "was it that obvious?" wincing, had anyone else noticed him?

lo'ak responded, nodding his head. "yes," breaking the harsh truth. "painfully, you look like a lost yerik staring at her."

neteyam groaned, rubbing his temples. "i don't know what is happening," he had never said this aloud to anyone before, "one day she was just this girl who followed my every move and the next she is this-" he paused, thinking how to word it. "this, woman- who doesn't even look my way."

lo'ak was shocked at his brothers sudden confession, he was not expecting him to say all of that. "dude," he could not believe it, "whats the matter with you- you are all flipped over y/n! the girl who use to bring you bracelets and who you use to whine about wouldn't leave you alone."

neteyam realised lo'ak was right about one thing, he had flipped. completely.

neteyam went to the one person he knew for a fact would have the answers to his millions of thoughts racing through his head, the tashik- also his grandmother

"grandma," he doesn't know how to start this off, but he knows that this is part of it. "how did you know grandpa was the one." mo'at knew instantly why her grandson had come to see her.

"some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss, but every once in a while you find someone who's iridescent, and once you do, nothing will ever compare." .

 flat, glossy, iridescent? what the hell did that mean? and y/n had always just seemed plain to him. until now.

"follow your heart my boy," she put her hand firmly on where his heart sat on his chest. "and eywa will guide you."

how was he meant to speak to you now? after all these years he was never the one to approach you, and now he walked towards where you were, his feet feeling heavy beneath him with every step.

"neteyam- there you are." his line of sight of you being blocked by katarina, before he could tell her he was busy she spoke again. "i was wondering if..." the rest of what she said fell on broken ears to neteyam sully, all he was focusing on was the girl behind him- you.

but you were no longer alone, there beside you was nitalk', one of the warriors in the clan- he couldn't focus on what katarina was saying because less than 20 feet away from his was y/n. his y/n- with nitalk! you were laughing! what could you possibly be laughing about? how could you stand there and laugh and look so beautiful?

"sorry-" he interuppted the girl, "i need to go." without even saying another word he left katarina standing there. his feet moved for him, before he knew it he was standing right next to you. "y/n."

your head turned slowly, your radiant eyes wide at the sight of him. "yes?" neteyam felt his palms becoming sweaty, shuffling under his feet.

"can i speak with you," glancing at the na'vi boy who stood patiently waiting for your conversation with neteyam to be finished, "alone."

nodding carefully you dismiss yourself from the boy, curious at what had gotten neteyam sully in such a disarray. he lead you to somewhere secluded, where no one was near. the tension growing thicker and thicker the longer you walked. "is something wrong neteyam?" your voice broke the awkward silence.

he finally slowed his paste down, turning to look at you. "yes." he admitted, feeling the weight lifting of his shoulder. "i'm sorry y/n." was the first thing he said.

your eyebrows furrowed, "what for?" you did not know why he had dragged you out where no one was to simply apologise to you.

"for everything," then it happened, like vomit he couldn't stop the words from falling from his tongue. "for ignoring you and being rude to you all these years- i was just a boy, i could not understand what it was that i felt you."

the breath felt like it got sucked from the air around you, this was not what you were expecting him to say to you- here he was, the boy you were flipped rightside up for ever since you were 8, confessing his feelings for you.

"neteyam...." you didn't know what to even say.

he took a hold of your hand gently, staring into your eyes. "i was blind before- but i can see you now."

your breath fastened its paste, "i use to think you were extraordinary neteyam..." your voice was low, like a forgotten promise. "but then you agreed with her when she said my family was crazy." you removed your hand from neteyams.

neteyams heart sunk at the loss of contact, he did not understand what you were talking about. "what do you mean?"

you bit your lips, "that day out in the forest, i heard you- when she said the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." it was then he suddenly remembered, "i heard you agree."

neteyam couldn't lose you once more. "thats not true- you aren't crazy and i was a fool back then." he tried reaching for you, but you dodged his attempt pain flashing across his face.

"i need to go."

you went to the one place the world made sense in that moment, up in the tall tree that overlooked the forest. its funny, even after all these years the view had not changed. unlike everything around you it was as if it was stuck in time.

you did not know what to do, you should be thrilled- you had wanted that moment for years now- or at least you used to want it.

"what do i do great mother?" you whisper to the world, you did not know what to do. you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation dramatically.

for half a decade you had been trying to get neteyam to come see the view from where you sat in the tree, but everytime you did he declined the offer. what was ironic now was he was going up there by choice now. he knew you would be there.

"do you mind if i take a seat?" you turned to see neteyam crouching down near the branch, you nodded hesitantly as he took a quiet seat next to you. "i can see why you like to come up here so much now." he whispered, the view was breathtaking.

"sometimes when the light reaches over the horizon it casts a beautiful shadow," pointing out in explanation, neteyam listened closely.

it was then you realised you had never truly had a meaningful conversation with the eldest sully boy. you stared at him, trying to figure him out. "are you more than the whole of the sum of your parts?" he did not understand what you meant. though the question was more for you than him.

"what does that mean?" his head tilting.

"my grandmother told me about it," you explained, "she said a painting is more than the sum of its parts. a cow by itself is just a cow, a meadow by itself is just grass, flowers... and the sun peeking through the trees is just a beam of light, but you put them all together... and it can be magic." you turned to look away from him, "it's stupid-"

you were cut off by his hand on top of your own, "i think you are far more than the sum of your parts." you found yourself feeling like your 8 year old self, staring into his dazzling eyes.

"you don't know anything about me."

he frowned, "i know that whenever you are upset you come and sit in this tree," he began, "i know that you hate when people fight, i know that when you are mad your nose scrunches up- or when you are thinking you bite down on the left of your cheek. when you are fighting during a raid you say a silent prayer before you release your bow." your heart fluttered, as he continued on. "i know that you love to fly on your ikran around the halleluiah mountains and you like seasoning on your food, but not too much or it ruins the flavour." you couldn't believe what he was saying, you never knew he even noticed you.

"you notice me?"

his hand cupped your cheek, "i have noticed you since the moment i saw you," his thumb slowly grazing your cheek bone, "i was just too much of a coward to admit it to myself."

the space between the two of you slowly vanished, before you knew it neteyams lips were on yours. the kiss was slow and passionate, like the two of you were savouring the moment. your stomach flipped as it ended, his forehead resting on yours.

"but i have met someone who is iridescent," he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "and i know now i cannot let you go."

[hon3y0logy]

Notice Me

Neteyam x Reader

Summary: All of your friends were pursuing or have already found their mate, but you on the other hand weren’t focused nor worrying about that and it made it extra hard for the poor guy who was trying so hard to gain your attention.

The day you walked into Neteyams life he was absolutely taken by you. You were introduced to the Sully family by your mother who was one of the finest weavers in your clan, she had weaved them a baby basket for their newborn Tuk’tirey. You followed her path being one of the best in your age group. Anything you touch was gold.

Although you thought your skills were useless up against your dream of becoming a fierce warrior, the eldest Sully thought otherwise. Over the years of knowing you, he would always come to you if his loincloth had been torn in flight, asking for a new armband, a new vest, or asking you to create decorative tapestry art for his family’s home. (They got sick of him filling up the family’s space with stuff he didn’t need.) With each request, he would bring tools and accessories he found while he was hunting. He would always sit and listen to you sing weaving songs along with your fellow weaving circle. Little did you know, the man was infatuated.

“Sa’nok (mother) I’ll be back, I’m going to collect some trinkets from the forest.” Your mother responded with ‘be careful’ with a kind smile.

You secured your satchel over your shoulder and tucked your knife into its sheath. You swung open the flap of your home to be greeted by and well known face.

“Kaltixì (hello)” you greeted with a smile that he returned even brighter.

“You ready?” You nodded following him to his Ikran, he grabbed your hand helping you on.

“Is that a new top?”

Your cheeks warmed at the thought of him noticing “Yes I finished it yesterday.”

“It is beautiful, the colors of the beads suit you well.”

•••

You two landed gracefully outside the forest. He helped you off and walked alongside you. You excitedly got started, finding trinkets to add to your future crafts. Seeds you can sit out to dry, feathers, multicolored pebbles, and picking a few colorful flowers neatly putting them in your pouch, and even with medicinal herbs that could come in handy.

While you look around you felt a sense of longing, you missed the forest more than anything. It saddened you your clan had to move to high ground in order to be safe now the only way you could get here is by being a passenger on someone else’s Ikran.

“I miss this” you blurted out as you ran your fingers along the beautiful glowing plants.

“As do i” he chimed in.

He watched you for a moment longer than needed, eyes following the way the forest light kissed your skin. Working up the courage to present you with something’s he’s been holding onto. Then he reached into the satchel at his side.

“I made something for you,” Neteyam said quietly.

You turned, surprised, as he held out a woven armband tight, clean craftsmanship, threaded with deep blues and warm golds. His colors.

“For me?” you asked, genuinely shocked.

He nodded, suddenly shy. “For protection. And… so you think of me when you wear it.”

Your smile was instant and sincere as you slid it onto your slender arm. “I will treasure it. Irayo (thanks), Neteyam.” You didn’t notice the way his chest lifted, the way his ears flicked back in satisfaction. In his mind, it was done. You were claimed.

Sadly you weren’t aware of any of it.

•••

Back at the Hallelujah Mountains, the weaving circle buzzed with quiet talk and laughter. You sat cross-legged among your friends, hands moving easily as you reinforced tool wraps and braided cord for hunters.

“You’ve been smiling all day,” Na’vani teased, nudging you. “Something I should know?”

Before you could answer, a shadow fell across your work. “Kaltixì,” came a warm voice.

You looked up to see K’u’thal, spear resting at his side. He was well known through out your clan, talented in many ways especially when it came to hunting. Many women pursued him as a potential mate.

His eyes glanced over your work curious rather than bold. “What are you making?”

You happily explained with a smile, holding up your work, and he smiled softly, impressed. Soon the two of you were talking easily, sharing stories that had Na’vani grinning to herself.

Not far away, Neteyam watched.

His jaw tightened.

•••

A few days later the Tlalim Clan arrived, the rainforest came alive with voices and trade. Everyone and their loved ones were back where they belonged, children running around with toys in the shape of animals mimicking sounds, laughter echoing through the forest, and stories being told about clans you have yet to meet. It felt good.

As you walked around with an unwavering smile on your face, Neteyam found you near the stream.

“Finally I have found you” a smile adorned his face as he pressed a small bundle into your hands, hair beads carved from traded bone and shell.

“I saw them and thought of you,” he said.

Your smile widened and hugged him without thinking. “They are beautiful! Irayo (Thank you).”

He watched you basically float away convinced you finally understood his intentions.

•••

Later, at the communal dinner, Na’vani toyed with your armband, eyes dancing in the firelight. “Let me guess… K’u’thal?”

You laughed softly. “No, Neteyam made this.”

Her smile turned knowing just as K’u’thal appeared at your side, setting a small woven charm into your hands. Before you could protest or even thank him he was gone again, swallowed by the crowd.

Na’vani sighed, shaking her head in amusement. “Eywa help you,” she muttered. “You’re leading on two of the finest warriors our age and don’t even know it.”

Shocked by her statement you barely had time to respond before a hand closed around your wrist.

Neteyam.

He didn’t speak as he guided you away from the fire, past the laughter and music, until the noise dulled and it was just the two of you beneath the glow of the mountains. Only then did he turn to you, jaw tight, eyes burning.

“Why are you accepting gifts from him?” he asked, voice low and strained.

You recoiled slightly, confused and hurt. “What do you mean it’s harmless”

“Harmless? This is far from harmless he knows i am pursuing you as a mate yet he continues to fight for your attention.” Your eyes bulge.

“I- what? I thought you were pursuing Veyt’ari. That is word around the village.”

He scoffed softly, stepping closer causing your heart to beat just a little faster. “I do not want Veyt’ari.” He tilts his head and his voice dropped. “I want you.”

The world went quiet as he leaned in. Your ears perk and tail sway in anticipation.

When he kissed you, it was hesitant at first like he was giving you one last chance to pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, breathless, stunned, hands curling into his chest. The kiss deepened, years of unspoken longing finally breaking free.

When you pulled apart, both of you were flushed, foreheads resting together.

“Oh,” you whispered.

Neteyam smiled, satisfied at last.

“Yes, paskalin… oh.” (Sweet Berry)

•••

Extra

Neteyam didn’t realize how obvious he’d been until Lo’ak wouldn’t stop grinning at him across the fire.

“So,” his brother drawled, pulling meat off his skewer, “all it took was…what? Three years? Four?”

Neteyam shot him a warning look. “quiet.”

Kiri tilted her head, eyes glowing with amusement. “You know, most people say they’re courting someone. They don’t just… silently offer crafts and hope Eywa delivers the message.”

“She thought you were being nice?,” Tuk innocently chimed in, swinging her legs. “That’s kind of sad.”

Neteyam groaned, burying his face in his hands. Embarrassed that even his little sister caught on and she hasn’t even had the mating talk.

“I was clear.”

Lo’ak laughed outright. “Bro you literally watched another guy give her gifts and still said nothing , yeah that’s real clear”

Jake cleared his throat, lips twitching despite himself. “Alright that’s enough leave ‘em alone.”

“Son, next time…maybe use words.”

From across the clearing, you glanced over, confused by the sudden burst of laughter. Neteyam looked up just in time to see you smile at him.

Worth it.

Kiri leaned in, smirking. “Only took you years to get noticed.”

Neteyam didn’t argue, he was just happy now that he has you.

©hon3y0logy 2026 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission

Masterlist

[tsahik-cherry]

[one-shot]I see you, sister 𓏲ּ𝄢

Female!Sully!reader x Sully family

Summary: You are the eldest daughter, Neteyam’s twin sister, the one who always stood shoulder to shoulder with him to protect the others. But when the bullets fly, it isn’t the Golden Boy who gets hit. It’s you.

Warnings: Death, heavy angst, descriptions of blood/wounds, grief.

Words:2.5k

જ⁀➴

The air smelled of burning fuel and salt. It was a sensory overload ,the screaming of the Tulkun, the mechanical whine of the RDA ships, and the thundering beat of your own heart against your ribs.

"Go,Go, go!" Neteyam’s voice was barking over the chaos. You were right beside him. As always. That was the deal. You came into this world holding hands, the firstborn twins of Toruk Makto, and you moved through life as a single unit. Two halves of the same spear,as your grandmother called it.

You grabbed Spider, shoving him toward the railing, checking over your shoulder for Lo’ak. "Move, Lo’ak! do not look back!" you screamed, your voice cracking from the smoke.

Just then the RDA soldiers on the upper deck opened fire. The sound was deafening. Bullets ripped through the metal railing, sending sparks showering down like angry fireflies. You saw Lo’ak flinch, saw Neteyam duck. Instinct took over ,You didn't think twice. You just moved. You shifted your weight, throwing yourself into the space between the muzzle flashes and your brothers.

…

It wasn't a loud noise. It was a dull, wet thud. Like a stone hitting thick mud. The impact spun you around, a burst of white ,hot shock hitting your chest, but the adrenaline was so high you barely registered it as pain. It felt like a heavy punch. You gasped, the air catching in your throat, but you forced your legs to work.

"Jump!" Neteyam roared.

You dove after him. The cool embrace of the water usually felt like home, like Eywa’s arms, but today it felt heavy. You kicked hard, your tail swishing frantically to propel you deep, away from the surface fire.

Swim, you told yourself. Just swim to the rocks.But your limbs felt like they were filled with sand. every stroke was a labor. You surfaced behind the jagged rocks, gasping for air that didn't seem to want to fill your lungs.

Neteyam popped up first, shaking the water from his braids, his golden eyes wide . He immediately scanned the group. "Lo’ak? Spider? You guys good?"

"Yeah bro," Lo’ak panted, clinging to the rock. "Yeah, we’re clear."

Neteyam turned to you. His grin was breathless, fueled by the survival high. "that was too close. You okay, sister?"

You tried to smile back. You tried to give him that signature smirk, the one that said I’m invincible, but your lips felt numb. You pulled yourself up onto the rock, intending to stand, but your knees buckled. "I think..." You wheezed, your hand moving to your chest. Your fingers came away wet. Not with seawater.

The bioluminescent dots on your skin were stained dark. A thick, crimson slick was spreading across your chest, coating your tactical vest, dripping onto the grey stone.

Neteyam’s smile didn’t just fade; it shattered. "Y/N?"

"I..." You looked down, confusion swirling in your darkening vision. "I think I got hit."

The silence that fell over the boys was louder than the battle behind you.

"No, no, no." Neteyam scrambled over the rocks, his hands hovering over you, terrified to touch, terrified not to. "Lo’ak, help me! Apply pressure! Now!"

You slumped back against the stone, the sky above you spinning in dizzying circles. Lo’ak was there, his hands pressing down on your chest. He was crying. Why was he crying?

As they applied pressure on wound you cried out, a weak, strangled sound. It burned. Eywa, it burned. It felt like someone had shoved a hot coal into your lungs.

"Sorry, sorry, I know, I know," Neteyam sobbed, tears cutting tracks through the war paint on his face. "Just breathe, sister. Just breathe for me."

"I... I can't..." You gasped, your eyes fluttering. The stars above looked blurry. "Teyam... it’s cold."

"You are okay,you are going to be okay." He leaned over you, his braid falling onto your cheek. "Dad! Dad, help!"

The sound of a skimwing screeching overhead tore through the air. You saw the shadow of the Tsurak, and then the heavy thud of your father landing.

"Neteyam! Y/N!" Jake’s voice was commanding, angry, until he saw it.

He saw the blood pooling on the black rock. He saw his two sons holding his eldest daughter, their hands soaked with blood.

"Dad..." Neteyam looked up, his expression broken. "I can't stop it. Dad, I can't stop it."

Jake dropped to his knees.

"Let me see, let me see," Jake said, his voice forcibly calm, though his hands shook as he replaced Neteyams hands with his."I’ve got you. I’ve got you, babygirl."Jake’s voice was trembling in a way you had never heard before. He scooped you up, his large arms cradling you against his chest. "Hang on. Stay with me. Eyes on me, Y/N."

He placed you on the flat expanse of the rock where the family was gathering. The world was tilting.

Neytiri landed on the rock a second later, her bow in hand, fury in her eyes until she saw you. The fury vanished, replaced by a horror so raw it felt like a physical blow. She dropped her bow.

"No..." She fell to her knees beside you, her hands immediately going to the wound, covering Jake’s. "No, no, Great Mother, no..."

She grabbed your face, her hands frantic, stroking your cheeks, your forehead."Evi(child)... my baby, my girl..." Her eyes were wide, frantic, searching yours for a spark that was rapidly fading. "Look at Mother. Look at Mother!"

"Mom..." You tried to smile. You wanted to tell her it was okay. You wanted to tell her you saved Lo’ak. You did your job. You protected the family.

"I... I want to go home," you whispered. The words felt thick in your mouth.

Neytiri let out a sob that wrecked her throat. "Yes, yes, we go home. We go home soon."

"Stay with us, babygirl," Jake commanded, but his voice broke. He was crying. Your strong, invincible father was crying. "Focus on me, Strong heart,You have a strong heart."

But the heart was slowing down.

You looked past your parents, locking eyes with Neteyam. Your twin. Your other half. He was gripping your hand so hard it hurt, his forehead pressed against your knuckles.

You have to lead them now, you thought, projecting it to him as hard as you could. You have to be the strong one alone. I'm sorry.

"Ma Teyam..." you breathed.

"I'm here. I'm right here," he choked out, squeezing your hand. "I’m not leaving you."

The edges of your vision turned black. The pain was receding, replaced by a vast, watery silence. It felt like diving. It felt like connecting to the Spirit Tree.

"I see..." you whispered, your eyes fixing on something none of them could see. "I see... Her."

Your chest hitched once. Twice.

And then, nothing.

The scream that tore from Neytiri’s throat silenced the battle.

It was a wail of such primal agony that even the ocean seemed to still. She collapsed over your chest, burying her face in your neck, rocking back and forth, keening, begging Eywa to give it back, to give you back.

"No! No, no, no!" Neteyam was hitting the rock, screaming, his composure utterly destroyed. He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you gently, as if he could wake you up from a nap. "Wake up! Y/N, wake up!"

Lo’ak stood frozen, tears streaming down his face, staring at blood his hands.

Jake sat back on his heels. He looked hollowed out. He looked old. He reached out, placing a hand on Neteyam’s back to stop him from shaking your body, and then he pulled Neytiri against him, though she fought him, clinging to your shirt.

Moment later Jake looked up, his eyes hardening, the grief turning into a cold, dark rage. He reached out, touching Neytiri’s shoulder, then Neteyam’s. But his gaze was fixed on the ship in the distance.

He stood up, checking his weapon. The tears were still falling, but his face was stone.

He turned Neytiri towards him “we have to be strong for our kids, for our daughters”

Neytiri stood up emotionless picking up her bow ,ready for revenge.

Jake turned to his son, "Neteyam," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Stay back with your brother ."

"No," Neteyam stood up. His eyes were red, wild, filled with the same dark promise as his father’s. He looked down at your body one last time, wiping a smudge of blood from your cheek. "No, sir."

He picked up his knife.

"I’m coming with you."

જ⁀➴

….The air around Neteyam was crisp and cool, smelling of damp earth and moss. The floating mountains of Pandora hung in the mist around him. He looked down and saw his hands, free of the scars he’d collected over the years. He looked at his mount. It wasn't the skimwing he had mastered, but his Ikran.

And just then, he heard it. The sound that haunted his dreams. Sound that he missed dearly.

A sharp, and familiar joyful yip.

Neteyam wipped his head to his left ,There you were.

You were diving through a cloud bank, your Ikran’s wings tucked tight against your body. You looked exactly as you did the day you left the forest ,eyes bright with mischief, alive. So painfully, beautifully alive.

"Keep up, skxawng!" you laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest like a struck bell.

"Y/N!" Neteyam shouted, the name tearing out of his throat. He kicked his heels into his Ikran’s sides, diving after you.

For a moment, the war didn't exist. The RDA, the ash people, the grief ,everything was gone. It was just the two of you.

You leveled out, catching an updraft, and he pulled up right beside you. You flew wingtip to wingtip, so close he could almost reach out and grab your arm. You turned your head and grinned at him, that same smile that he hadn't seen in a mirror for so long.

"You're slow today," you teased, banking hard to the right, leading him on a chase through the stone arches.

He followed you effortlessly. He knew your moves before you made them. It was a dance you had perfected since you were children. He mirrored your dip, your roll, the way you let go of the reins and threw your arms out to embrace the wind.

Finally, you both landed on a high cliff overlooking the vast green canopy of the Omatikaya forest.

You hopped off your Ikran with that graceful bounce, turning to face him. But Neteyam stumbled as he dismounted. He didn't care about the view. He rushed toward you, crashing into you, wrapping his arms around you so tight it would have hurt if this were real.

You froze for a second, then softened, your arms coming up to hold him back. "Hey... hey. I've got you brother." He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of you, He was shaking. "I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts to breathe."

"I know," you whispered, stroking his hair. "I’m with you, Brother. Always." He pulled back, gripping your shoulders, his golden eyes searching yours. The joy of the flight was fading, replaced by the crushing reality of why he was here. "Why did you do it?" he asked, his voice cracking. Your smile faded gently. You didn't pretend not to understand. "Do what?" ,"You took the bullet," Neteyam said, the anger finally bubbling up ,anger at himself. "It was meant for me, You took it for me, You... you stupid skxawng." Tears spilled over his lashes. "I’m the oldest. By three minutes. It was my job to protect you."

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face. Your hands were warm. "We were partners, remember? Two halves. One spear." "The spear is broken without you," he choked out. "No," you said firmly, your thumb brushing away a tear on his cheek. "It’s just got sharper."

You stepped back, looking out over the forest, your expression wise beyond your years. "I didn't think, ma Teyam. I just moved. I saw the fire, I saw our brothers... and my body just knew what to do. I didn't choose to leave you. I chose to save who i love."

"But it’s not fair," Neteyam argued, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. "I’m down there, and I’m trying to be strong for Dad, trying to keep Lo’ak from doing something stupid, trying to comfort Mom... and I’m alone. I turn to tell you something, and you’re not there."

"I am there," you insisted. You stepped closer, pressing your hand flat against his chest, right over his heart. "I am right here. Every time you draw a bow, I’m aiming with you. Every time you fly, I’m the wind under your wings. You are living for both of us now, brother."

Neteyam covered your hand with his own. "I don't want to live for both of us. I want you next to me, i want our full family back."

"But we cant always have what we want can we?," you said softly, sad but accepting. "But you have them. Our little sisters and brothers. They need you. They need Neteyam."

The wind picked up, tugging at your braids. The light around the edges of the cliff began to fade, the violet bioluminescence of the real world bleeding into the dream. "I have to go," he whispered, panic rising in his chest. "I don't want to go."

"You have to," you smiled, and this time, it was the proud smile of a sister looking at a warrior. "Go be Toruk Makto’s son. Go help our family finish this war.”

You stepped back toward your Ikran. "Come back and fly with me when the war is done. But not yet. Not yet, Neteyam."

"I love you,sister" he called out, the world dissolving into white mist.

You mounted your Ikran, looking back over your shoulder, your silhouette glowing against the sun.

"I see you, Brother."…………

જ⁀➴

© 2026 tsahik-cherry

[lacedlies-deactivated20260403]

bay-bee? baby! | neteyam sully x metkayina! reader

𓇼 ✦ 🌊 ✦ 𓇼

synopsis: neteyam develops the most inconvenient, quiet crush on a reef girl who laughs at him, teaches him and has no idea how deeply she’s already claimed him. between shared dives and teasing smiles, he falls hard — the slow, terrifying kind. bad advice from his father leads him to try a sky word he himself doesn’t fully understand

cw: other than cringey/ sappy dad jake — none

The first time Neteyam ever saw you, you had seaweed in your hair and your tongue stuck out at Ao’nung.

You were perched high on a rock just off the shoreline, legs crossed, stringing bright shells onto a line of polished cord. Ao’nung was in the water below, gesturing wildly about something you had clearly done — maybe tossed a shell at his head, maybe beat him in some bet but you only grinned and waved him off, humming something under your breath as you worked.

You weren’t even looking at Neteyam.

But he was looking at you

His brother was elbowing him in the ribs. His father was warning him to be respectful. His mother was murmuring something to Tuk about manners.

Neteyam just kept staring at the girl with the sea in her voice and the sun in her smile, who’d probably already forgotten his name.

It didn’t take long for you to be assigned to help him.

You were one of the better divers in your age group—quick and sharp-eyed, with a good sense of current and tide. You were patient, too. Until you weren’t.

,,That is not how you hold your breath” you said one afternoon, exasperated, dragging Neteyam’s arm to straighten it as he surfaced again too soon ,,You are panicking before you even start”

,,I am not” Neteyam insisted, coughing a little as he blinked salt from his lashes.

You huffed, unimpressed ,,You are. Your heartbeat is like a panicked crab”

He raised an eyebrow. ,,You can hear my heartbeat?”

You gave him a look ,,No but you are splashing around like one”

Neteyam groaned, falling back into the shallows with a dramatic sigh. You couldn’t help but laugh then —genuinely — and he cracked one eye open to watch the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. The sound made the warm pit in his chest ache.

,,You’re cute when you’re mad” he said without thinking.

You blinked. “What?”

,,Nothing” he muttered, suddenly interested in a piece of sea glass by his foot.

You tilted your head ,,You really talk like forest boys do”

He smiled to himself. He was a forest boy and it seems like you like this forest boy.

✧･ﾟ: 🫧 🌊 🐬 🌊 🫧 :･ﾟ✧

It was just after eclipse.

The ocean shimmered with the last light of the day, turning molten and soft and the air hung heavy with salt. Neteyam sat at the edge of the shallows alone, arms resting on his knees, face slack with something pensive. He wasn’t watching the water. Wasn’t doing anything, really.

Jake spotted him from a distance and after a long sigh and a glance around for any excuse not to get involved, he gave in and walked over.

He sat beside his son with a low grunt, lowering himself into the sand like an old man with a bad back.

,,Alright, soldier” he said after a moment of silence ,,what’s on your mind?”

Neteyam didn’t answer right away. He just let the surf fizz around his ankles, eyes unfocused.

Jake followed his gaze.

It was fixed — very obviously, very tragically — on you.

You were standing knee-deep in the shallows not far off, laughing with Tsireya as you both tried to untangle a net full of glittering fish. Your hands were quick, your smile easy, your shoulders wet and glowing with moonlight. You looked every inch the sea-daughter you were and it was clear from the ache in Neteyam’s expression that you had no idea what you did to him.

Jake smirked.

,,Ah” he said simply ,,So it is a girl”

Neteyam looked over, narrowing his eyes ,,Don’t start.”

Jake held up his hands ,,I’m just sayin’. I know that look. You’ve got it bad.”

Neteyam shook his head, but the groan he let out was not a denial ,,She’s different” he mumbled, looking back toward the shore ,,I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s just… she says exactly what she’s thinking. She laughs at me when I mess up but somehow it never feels like she means it to hurt. It just makes me want to keep going”

Jake tilted his head and gave his son a light punch on his shoulder ,,Sounds like she challenges you.”

,,She does”

They sat in silence for a beat, the waves sucking gently at the sand beneath them.

Then Jake cleared his throat.

.,Well, look” he began, already sounding like he regretted it ,,I probably shouldn’t be the one giving you advice about this…”

Neteyam turned toward him, eyebrows raised. ,,Then maybe don’t?”

Jake ignored that. ,,But I have been around the block and you’re a Sully, so you don’t just walk up to a girl like that and say, ‘Hey, I’m in love with you.’ You gotta ease into it. You gotta be smooth.”

Neteyam stared ,,Smooth.”

,,Yeah. Like—flirt a little. Be playful. Let her know you see her but don’t come on too strong.”

Neteyam blinked ,,…Okay.”

Jake grinned ,,That’s where nicknames come in. You give her a name only you call her. Makes her feel special.”

Neteyam squinted ,,Like what?”

Jake scratched his chin like this was top-level strategy ,,Try calling her baby”

There was a long pause.

Then Neteyam made a face like Jake had just told him to grow a second head ,,What?!”

,,It’s classic!” Jake said defensively ,,It’s a human thing. Used to drive your mom wild”

,,You called Mom ‘baby?’”

,,Still do.”

Neteyam looked like he was going to vomit.

Jake laughed ,,Look, it’s not about the word—it’s about the tone. You say it real soft, like, ‘Hey… baby.’” He demonstrated, dragging the word out with a grin that made Neteyam curl into himself in horror.

,,That’s disgusting. Stop.”

,,I’m telling you” Jake said, completely unbothered ,,you say it like that, with just a little smirk—she won’t know what hit her”

Neteyam buried his face in his hands ,,I am not calling her ‘baby.’ She’s gonna think I hit my head.”

Jake just clapped him on the back ,,Think about it.”

,,I won’t.”

A few seconds passed in awkward silence.

,,…Do you think she would like that?” Neteyam asked quietly.

Jake smiled ,,Oh, my man. She’s already halfway gone.”

🌊 𓆩♡𓆪 🌊

The tide was rolling in slow and warm, stretching in glimmering lines over the sand as you and Neteyam walked side by side at the edge of the beach. The eclipse had just passed and the sky had taken on that glowing, indigo velvet color, stitched with stars.

The two of you were barefoot, dripping wet, still drying from your last dive.

You kept bumping his shoulder on purpose. To calm his nerves he kept pretending it was by accident.

Neteyam was quieter than usual though. His expression unreadable, like he was working something out behind his eyes. Every now and then he looked at you sideways — almost like he was trying to memorize you.

You arched an eyebrow ,,You’re making that face again”

,,What face?”

,,The one that says you’re thinking very hard about something you’re too afraid to say”

He smiled at that, shoulders loosening ,,Am I that easy to read?”

You shrugged, tucking a loose curl behind your ears ,,Only a little but… what I wanted you to know was that you’ve been improving a lot passed days…”

The water curled around your ankles, white and hissing. Your skin shimmered with a thousand dried salt kisses. Your hair was a bit tangled, your cheeks warm from the swim.

He looked at you again.

Now or never.

“…Thanks, baby” he said suddenly.

The words dropped like a stone between you.

You stopped walking.

“…Bay-bee?” you repeated slowly, like it was some foreign object you’d accidentally stepped on.

Neteyam coughed into his shoulder ,,Yeah. Uh. It’s… it’s a nickname”

You narrowed your eyes ,,Is that a Sky Person word?”

He nodded, already regretting everything ,,My dad says it to my mom. It’s like… a soft thing you say. To someone you care about. Like yawne. Or sevin.”

You blinked ,,But it means… what? Little one? Hatchling?”

,,No! No, it’s not literal! It’s just… sweet. It’s a way to say someone matters to you”

You were quiet for a beat.

Then you burst out laughing.

,,That’s what you’ve been holding onto all day?” you managed between giggles ,,That was the big secret? You were working up the nerve to call me—bay-bee?”

Neteyam groaned and ran a hand down his face. ,,Please don’t make this worse than it already is”

You leaned on him, wheezing ,,I cannot believe your great warrior father taught you that”

,,Stop.”

,,He probably did it with a straight face too.”

,,You’re killing me.”

You wiped your eyes and sighed ,,Okay, okay. I’m done. I promise.”

He peeked at you through his fingers ,,You’re still laughing.”

,,I’m laughing with affection” you said sweetly, trying to ease his growing embarrassment.

He groaned again ,,I’m never trusting my dad again.”

,,No, no, don’t say that” You nudged him gently, smile softening ,,It was actually… cute”

He blinked.

You looked away, suddenly shy, your voice a touch quieter now.

,,I’ve never been called something like that before” you murmured ,,Not in Sky People tongue. It felt… strange. But not bad.”

You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, your fingers still damp and cool with salt. The waves hissed up the shore beside you, soft and steady.

Then, without meeting his eyes, you added, almost a whisper—

,,…Will you say it again?”

Neteyam stilled then stepped closer.

His hand brushed yours first — slow, warm —until his fingers laced between yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your hands rested between you, joined, salt-slick and trembling slightly.

He tilted his head down, just enough that his breath kissed your cheek.

,,…Thanks, baby” he said, lower this time. Not teasing. Not playful. Just sincere.

You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding in your throat. You didn’t laughed it mocked him this time. Instead, you leaned in, just slightly.

The space between your bodies felt electric —warm, fragile, waiting.

,,…Still sounds weird” you whispered, barely audible, though your smile betrayed you.

Neteyam’s gaze dropped to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes ,,You’ll learn to like it” he murmured ,,Maybe even crave it.” He added with a quiet chuckle.

You smirked, eyes half-lidded ,,You like saying it?”

He leaned in closer. Close enough that his nose skimmed yours, his voice softer than the sea.

,,I love saying it” he breathed ,,I love saying it to you.”

When you finally whispered it back — your voice quiet, your lips barely moving, like the word was delicate and precious in your mouth.

,,…Baby”

His breath caught. His eyes searched yours like he was memorizing the moment.

Just like that, the ocean kept rolling in behind you, the stars blinked overhead, and the word didn’t feel borrowed anymore.

[teyamwa]

[teyamwa]

TONOWARI IS NOW A SINGLEEE DADDDD!! rip ronal u a baddie

me : so i heard... he's a single dad now.... wink wink

[nyctophicbtch]

Outsiders - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader ]

Summary: Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,033

©nyctophicbtch 2022 — do not copy, repost or translate

Just as expected, there were no particular signs of interest your siblings found in you when Omatikayas showed up on the shore, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious upon their arrival.

“She will show up.” You faintly heard Rotxo quietly say to Ao’nung as you approached the commotion.

A glimpse of your father and mother speaking to an Olo'eyktan had you pushing through the crowd to get a better view. You could see your sister already examining the outsiders alongside your brother, being fairly kinder than he was.

“See,” remarked Rotxo as he spotted you making your way over to them.

Their banter over you was not uncommon. It never bothered you and you could care less with what they were whispering about now when you knew they had no ill intentions. Instead, you shifted your attention to the family standing before you and eyed each of them individually.

The littlest one was hiding behind her mother’s leg, the other girl looked exhausted and the younger boy had his eyes glancing at your sister too often to your annoyance.

You glanced at the eldest just as he did too, noticing you for the first time. The corners of his lips curved upwards to form a subtle smile in an attempt to seem friendly, which others might have missed but your brothers didn’t.

It wasn’t the smartest friendly attempt, considering how it only deepened the distaste of your brother into sneers and scowls.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to take interest in you,” whispered Ao’nung, though he didn’t seem pleased to know that. “You’re alluring. Stay away.”

“I won’t even do anything!”

“Exactly.”

“Shh,” interrupted Tsireya.

You shot a glare towards your brother in annoyance. He knew you wouldn’t even be interested in seeing them, let alone talking to them, yet somehow he was so sure that they’d approach you on their own

“They won’t even care, Ao’nung.” You had been so busy furiously thinking of arguments against your brother that the call of your name spooked you.

“They will teach you our ways,” your father said, earning immediate complaints from your brother whilst Tsireya obliged and wasted no time in leading the guests.

There was no doubt that your sister could handle them, and your siblings wouldn’t expect you to be interested in teaching them either. And they weren’t wrong. You’d prefer entertaining the kids running around the sand than guiding them.

“Where’s your other sister?” asked Kiri when she noticed your absence.

Neteyam hung back with Lo’ak as their parents busied themselves gazing at the village. The place still felt foreign to them, and even more so when they knew they’d be staying here.

“Doing something else. She’s not used to outsiders.” Tsireya did not stop to reply, the words coming off her tongue as if she had practiced it a thousand times.

Lo’ak raised his brows at the mention of another sister. He was too caught up fuming at Rotxo and Ao’nung to even notice you, but he doubted any of them were used to outsiders either.

“The quiet one.” Neteyam replied to his unspoken question. “The interesting one.”

“Go anywhere near her and we’ll tie you up with your baby tail.”

“Relax, she’s all yours.” Neteyam held his hands up in defense. He didn’t understand why they were getting so defensive over you although he barely even looked your way. Lo’ak was ogling at Tsireya and they didn’t seem too bothered.

Something was off about you, especially when you’d so rarely make yourself visible to any of them for days. He would’ve expected the daughter of the Olo'eyktan to be difficult to miss, especially when they all expected you to help teach them the Metkayina ways. And to be truthful, you just enjoyed doing your own thing that does not involve the outsiders.

“Father’s expecting all of us to join them.” Your annoyance was clearly visible. You weren’t even needed. They could handle this on their own without you, and your father knew that.

“Fine.”

-

You left them alone for two minutes and somehow they were already taunting each other when you came back. Your sister was called to help mother, much to your dismay, and you were putting back the saddles of the ilu.

“Lo’ak,” you heard Neteyam warn as you returned to the group behind Ao’nung, giving some distance.

When Lo’ak approached and flexed his fingers around, you knew what was coming before the punch actually landed on your brother’s face.

“Rotxo, stop!” you yelled, pulling him back by his hand. He shook you off easily, dismissing your warnings.

You looked to Neteyam who sighed, as if he’d witness this too many times. The older brother easily beat up Ao’nung and his friends in Lo’ak’s defense, scolding Lo’ak afterwards.

“Come on,” Ao’nung waited expectantly for you to follow them. He sensed your hesitance and saw the way your eyes roamed back and forth between them and the Omatikayas, and finally decided to leave without you.

“In my defense, you got to show off in front of her,” said Lo’ak groggily, nodding to you.

“Excuse my brother and his unrefined mouth.” Neteyam received a weak punch for that and the tiniest smile from you. He didn’t comprehend why, but Neteyam smiled at your amusement and from then, the annoyance you felt from having to teach them disappeared. Just slightly.

“Do I have to face dad?”

“Yes. Until then keep out of trouble. I mean it Lo’ak.”

It was safe to say Neteyam was impressed that his brother managed to not utter a single provoking word until he had to face their father.

“Hey.” Neteyam spun to the sound of your voice. It was nearly sundown and you were standing outside his room. “Sorry about my brother and his friends. I can still teach you how to control your breathing if you’d like.”

The mindful part of him knew he should go find his brother who hadn’t been visible for a long while, but the selfish part of him allowed his interests to take over. And this time, he allowed something for himself for once. Besides, Lo’ak should stay out of trouble after his last encounter with dad.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You nodded towards the shore and Neteyam jumped off his marui to follow you. It took great effort to avoid bumping into any of the children running around and splashing water.

“The secret to increasing your lungs’ limit is to slow your breathing and allow them to slowly adapt,” you said, pushing him back by the chest with both hands so that he sat down.

“Breathe from here.” You were only showing him parts of his chest and abdomen, but he couldn’t help the increasing pace of his heart as your hands felt around his chest. His eyes locked on your face the entire time in an attempt to focus on what you were saying, but the words that came out from your mouth sounded foreign to his brain.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You frowned. “Slow down.”

Neteyam nodded, but when you felt his heart keep its frantic pace, you sighed and removed your hands from his chest.

“We’ll try this again tomorrow with my sister.”

-

Neteyam did the one thing Ao’nung told him not to do. He found himself coming up with excuses to see you and he was just about subtle enough that even Tuk noticed.

“I just made peace. This time I think you’re going to be the one to mess things up.”

“I’m not doing anything.” They both knew it was a lie and Neteyam was fully aware of that.

“Can you show the way to our marui? They all look the same,” Lo’ak mockingly mimicked the conversation he overheard between you and his brother yesterday. Lo’ak was basking in his enjoyment.

It was something unlikely of Neteyam and something expected of Lo’ak, which made the whole situation even more amusing to the younger brother.

“Ow.” Lo’ak swatted away the hand that hit him in the back of his head.

“You’re being annoying. Stop.”

“Stop being a wuss and make a move. It’s her birthday.” The look Neteyam gave was out of pure disbelief.

“I’m not you who falls in love with every pretty girl you see.”

“I do not do that.”

“Yes you do. Now go annoy someone else. I’m going to see if mom found our gift.” Neteyam pushed the weight of Lo’ak’s arm away from his shoulder, distancing himself before walking the other direction.

“Actually, you already gave her one.” The words from his brother’s mouth caused Neteyam to freeze in place and turn his head to look at him.

“What?”

“You gave her a pretty sea bouquet with a sweet little note.” If he could, Neteyam would tear the smug look off of his brother’s face.

“Kurkung.” Asshole. “What did the note say?”

“You’re going to have to ask her yourself. She actually shows up when you’re around.”

Happy birthday, tanhì

- Neteyam

You somehow doubted that this was actually from Neteyam. He didn’t seem like the type to show romantic gestures to someone he met only a few weeks ago. You were surprised that he was even interested in you at all and it had you flushing like an idiot.

“What’s got you so smiley?” asked Rotxo, snatching the note from your hand before you could reply.

“Hey!”

“That bastard. I thought mom got you that.” Your brother gestured to the bouquet with a glare. You had no idea why your brother and his friends were so against you and Neteyam. It wasn’t like either of you showed any interest in each other. Well, not until now.

“Lay off, Rotxo. It’s her birthday,” you heard Ao’nung’s voice before he entered the marui and stole the note from Rotxo’s hands. Your brother’s hand ruffled your hair in a way he knew you hated. “Happy birthday, hì’i kxetse.”

Happy birthday, small tail.

You shoved his hand away in annoyance, the glare you sent looking more playful than menacing. The pushes turned into fights and a full race to the waters.

“Guys-“ Rotxo never got to finish what he was saying since the two of you were already running through the poor villagers that minded their own business, occasionally bumping into some of them.

Ao’nung was grinning at his expected victory when you tackled him from behind. The rest of the way was filled with tripping, pulling, and your attempts at kicking him away from you.

You were nearly there. Aonung would often beat you most of the time, but on lucky days, you claimed the victory.

“Woah!” Before you could stop yourself, you slammed into Neteyam, knocking the both of you over to the waters.

Water filled your lungs quicker than you could comprehend and it seemed like Neteyam did the same since he was coughing a fit once the two of you resurfaced.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology in between coughs.

“Looks like lover boy helped you win, little sis.” Ao’nung appeared from behind you. Your brother did nothing, but you hit him on his forehead - which felt like a weak nudge to him - for his mere existence. “I’m gonna fetch Rotxo. I’m still keeping my eye on you, forest boy.”

Once Ao’nung was out of earshot you were quick to approach him and apologize for your brother’s hostility. “Sorry for him. I liked your gift, though. It was lovely.”

Neteyam knew it wasn’t really his gift, but he couldn’t help but play along. Lo’ak was never going to let this go and he knew it. He was “forever in Lo’ak’s debt”.

“It’s alright. Happy birthday again.”

You smiled at Neteyam, leaning in to put a hand on his jaw and he hoped you couldn’t feel the speed of his heartbeat increasing as you gave a peck to his cheek. It was supposed to be him, yet you were the one whose face flushed and quickly swam away to find your ilu.

Lo’ak just found the entire thing amusing.

He raised a brow suggestively as Neteyam spotted him standing by the shoreline, blowing a kiss his way, which was responded with water splashed to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

tanhì [tan.ˈhɪ] n. star, bioluminescent freckle

hì’i [ˈhɪ.ʔi] adj. small, little (in size)

kxetse [ˈk’ɛ.t͡sɛ] n. tail

‧₊˚.ೃ ࿐

©nyctophicbtch 2022 — do not copy, repost or translate

[lorre-verie]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐉𝐔𝐌𝐏, 𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖."

outcast!metkayina reader x lo’ak sully

avatar masterlist here

The shore outside the council space glows faintly, soft blues and greens pulsing beneath the water’s skin. It’s beautiful in a way that feels almost cruel.

Eywa’s moon shines brightly above you, gracing your cooling skin with her light.

Am I doing the right thing, mother? you wonder, before shaking your head.

She will not answer you now.

You sit at the edge of a rock near the shore, letting your feet drag through the water, toes breaking the bioluminescent algae into trembling light.

With every small movement, the glow shatters and reforms, over and over again.

You think of Payakan.

You think of the woven nets and wood encircling the council space, shielding the elders of their ignorance.

You feel the surface of the wood against your fingertips again—harder this time.

“They would rather pretend he does not exist!” you’d said in the meeting.

“They would rather let him suffer alone than admit a change needs to be made.”

Someone had shifted uncomfortably. Another looked away.

Tonowari’s voice had been calm when he answered you.

“[Name], we have heard enough.”

And just like that, the air turned cold. Tails shuffled against netting like the sound of a decision made.

The stares of your people weighed on you like the hot glare of an Akula. You balled your fists and stomped away, tail flicking against the marui in annoyance.

You look to your left hand now, grasping at sand uselessly.

A presence settles beside you, familiar even before you look.

Lo’ak drops down onto the platform with less grace than you would’ve hoped from a forest-dweller. He pulled his knees up to his chest, ears flattened against his skull. He smells faintly of salt and adrenaline and anger that hasn’t found a direction yet.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

You sniffle, avoiding his gaze.

The water laps quietly around you both. Somewhere farther out, a ilu calls.

“They didn’t listen,” Lo’ak says finally.

You huff a humourless breath. “They never do.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I tried to say something. I swear. My dad—”

You look at him once and he stops, jaw tightening. You don’t need the rest.

Toruk Makto’s hand on his arm. A look that says not now.

You glance at him, really look — the way his shoulders are tense, the way his eyes track the water like it might explode if he stares hard enough.

“Your father stopped you,” you say flatly, turning your head towards the endless horizon of sea stretching before you.

Lo’ak nods once. “Yeah.”

The silence that follows is heavier than before.

You trail your fingers through the water again, slower this time, watching the glow bloom around your hand. “They act like defending him is a crime,” you mutter.

Lo’ak snorts. “That’s ‘cause they’re too stuck in their ways to see what’s happening right in front of them.”

“I just don’t understand,” you say quietly. “They talk about balance, about Eywa, about compassion…until it’s inconvenient.”

The water shifts as a small wave laps against the platform. Lo’ak inches closer without thinking, shoulders brushing yours.

For a moment, you’re not alone in this.

“They’ll never forgive me,” you say. “Not for speaking. Not for refusing to be quiet.”

Lo’ak turns to you fully now. “Good.”

You blink. “What?”

He shrugs, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Why would you want any sort of approval from people who only like you when you’re quiet?”

You let out a shaky laugh, more breath than sound.

You swing your legs harder, splashing the water. Light erupts around your feet in a chaotic halo.

“...I am an outcast,” you whisper. Almost to yourself.

Lo’ak looks at you in the moonlight.

“Then I’m an outcast too,” he says. His hand trembles near yours, as if he wants to reach out.

You turn your head to the side, meeting his stare.

“You? Son of Toruk Makto? An outcast?” you ask incredulously as if you don’t believe it, your four fingers simultaneously weaving through his five.

He sputters, wanting to respond but clearly taken aback by your gesture.

You lift both your hands, palms facing him, eyes flicking to his five outstretched fingers with a grin.

In the moonlight, his dark blue skin stands out sharply against your own softer teal, the contrast like deep ocean against a shallow reef.

“My friend, you are a thousand times more outcast then I will ever be,” you say coyishly.

For a second, Lo’ak just stares at you.

Then he lets out this surprised huff of a laugh, somewhere between a snort and a choke, jerking his hand back like the words physically hit him.

“What— That’s messed up!” He breaks off, laughing properly now, loud and unguarded, tail flicking behind him.

You look at him with a wide smile, and try not to make it obvious you’re focused on the fact that your hands are still together.

The laughter fades slowly, like ripples smoothing back into still water.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of the tide breathing below you, the faint hum of the reef glowing in and out of life. Lo’ak’s hand stays threaded through yours.

Then you swallow.

“I do not know what I will do,” you say finally, the words slipping out softer than you expect, almost fragile in the open air.

Lo’ak stills beside you, listening.

“Perhaps I will appeal to the elder tulkun myself,” you continue, gaze fixed on the water as if it might answer you. “Or maybe I will search for Payakan. Wherever he may be.”

You don’t look at him when you say it, half-expecting this to be the moment he pulls away.

Instead, his fingers tighten around yours.

Lo’ak shifts closer, thumb brushing against the back of your hand in an absent, grounding motion. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

You turn toward him, surprised. “Okay?”

He nods once, jaw set in that familiar, stubborn way. “Wherever you go,” he says, like it’s already decided. “If you’re swimming out there, I’m not staying behind.”

“But your family—”

“I’ll deal with it.” His voice is sure.

The reef light glows brighter around your intertwined hands, reflecting off your skin in shared color, shared warmth.

Lo’ak meets your eyes then, expression earnest, unwavering.

“If you jump,” he says again, softer this time, closer, “I follow.”

The ocean shifts beneath you, and for the first time that night, the future doesn’t feel quite so lonely.

You’re an outcast.

But at least you can be outcasts together.

avatar masterlist here

AYYYYYY sorry for the super short post but i have big things planned so consider this a little taste test! welcome back avatar fandom I've been waiting for you 🫶

much love, lorre.

[sarhav3]

Two generations. They live in ny head rent free

Honestly, I’m obsessed with how these three are practically mini-versions of their parents. It’s hilarious and kinda cursed, especially given the history between Jake, Grace, and Quaritch. Maybe it’s future parallels or I'm just insane

I wonder if their uncanny resemblance to their parents was that deeply intentional.

It’s so funny watching Spider and Kiri when their parents were literally like that

meanwhile, these two are just adorable together.

Do you think human!Q would’ve been pissed at his son for being so close with Grace’s daughter? ‘Cause I’m 100% sure Grace would’ve loved Spider

[dollzstrology]

ꕥ — 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

Featuring — Tonowari x fem!avatar!reader [brief Jake x Neytiri x fem!avatar!reader]

About — the treatment you received from people who claimed they loved pushed you to move to a foreign land and into the arms of your true soulmate.

Content — hurt, comfort, angst, fluff, smut [later in series], pregnancy [later in series], ooc Jake & Neytiri, domestic violence [with Jake and Neytiri], implied divorce/breakup [with Jake and Neytiri], widower!Tonowari, secret relationship trope, courting, mating // [more to be added as chapters are posted]

Advisory — Topics in this series can be found triggering to some so if you are one of those people please don’t interact. All parts of this story will have content warnings at the top of them so before clicking ‘read more’ please read them to make sure you’re comfortable with the topics that are being covered. Remember, you’re responsible for what you consume.

Last Updated — November 23rd 2025

Next Update — To be announced…

Status — Ongoing… [Slow updates]

VOLUME I ᝰ Pre-Atwow

Chapter One: The End Of An Era

Chapter Two: Forest Meets Reef

Chapter Three: The Foundation

Chapter Four: A New Tide — Part One ᝰ Part Two

Chapter Five: Breakthrough

Chapter Six: Bittersweet

Chapter Seven: The Final Step — Part One ᝰ Part Two

VOLUME II ᝰ Current/Post Atwow

Chapter One: Untitled

Chapter Two: Untitled

Chapter Three: Untitled

Chapter Four: Untitled

・More chapters to be determined…

SPECIAL ADDITIONS

・Coming soon…

If you would like to be tagged in this series click here and fill out the form.

— all rights reserved ©𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐙𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost repost on other platforms (ex. AO3 or Wattpad) nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[riverlikethelake]

Like the wind in your grasp

Synopsis, Spider wasn’t the first human born on Pandora, but he was the first to grow up on it. You had Neytiri’s heart long before Jake came along, and you’d have both of theirs long after. The problem is, humans weren’t meant for Pandora. Even so, Eywa saw you, and it seems like she accepted you. Maybe that's why, even after being without you for so long, they saw you again.

WC: 10.5k (oh wow)

inspired by @jsooly taken in by the sullys series!

A/N: I wrote this quite literally at 5 am, and it's drastically different from my usual writing style, but I like it! Very bittersweet! and written with the assumption that whoever is reading this knows about Sylwanin and her lore.

You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.

After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora

So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone. 

Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?

Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.

Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.

You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker. 

Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.

She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up. 

Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.

Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.

“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.

You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in. 

Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching. 

A new brain to fill, maybe.

So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.

It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.

Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.

It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote. 

They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid. 

But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.

You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on. 

He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably. 

At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar. 

They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.

Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly. 

You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.

Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.

With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up. 

You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.

They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.

Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you. 

“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.

“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”

From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.

Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on. 

Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace. 

Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.

Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.

“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them. 

In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought. 

Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you. 

Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it. 

You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly. 

Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast. 

You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it. 

Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.

She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world. 

She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad. 

Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was. 

At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request. 

But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.

Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.

You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age. 

Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid. 

Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.

You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.

Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day. 

Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.

You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.

When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite. 

You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others. 

You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.

Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay. 

It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces. 

You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them. 

You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly. 

He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room. 

“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face. 

She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.

You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair. 

Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him. 

As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in. 

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him. 

It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy. 

You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life. 

He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.

“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you

So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.

To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved. 

The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.

It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty. 

And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep. 

He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining. 

Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg. 

Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for. 

If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.

It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri. 

Neytiri. Your Neytiri.

You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin! 

Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to. 

Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.

Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…

Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.

Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.

It was you.

He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.

He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.

So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of. 

It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go. 

Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?

But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified. 

He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.

You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine. 

But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.

You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them. 

Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.

You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.

Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal. 

You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.

So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.

The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines. 

They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you. 

You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you. 

Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach. 

You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.

She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention. 

An Atokirina.

It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin. 

Mo’at’s eyes widened. 

“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.

They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.

Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.

Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face. 

You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.

And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death. 

The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.

Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group. 

With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.

You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay. 

“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd. 

Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water. 

You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw.  You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.

Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.

They didn’t know what to do. 

You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away. 

Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.

They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do? 

Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips. 

“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged

“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”

You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face. 

Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done. 

You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.

The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically. 

You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.

Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.

So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach. 

Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.

The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.

Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.

They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.

It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.

Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words. 

She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could. 

Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?

One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky. 

She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree. 

She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.

An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air. 

The first breath.

Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as. 

A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.

Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.

She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.

“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her. 

Words exchanged between them in complete silence. 

He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui. 

The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.

“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.

Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”

He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned. 

There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle. 

“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”

Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand. 

Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.

“Syuli”

After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya. 

He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.

Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.

By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death. 

It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died. 

The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.

“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care. 

Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved. 

Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri. 

She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again. 

Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in. 

A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum 

Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn

a’atanur oe mameyam 

meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom

A child, Y/n, i knew

showed to me, a blessing

a light I held in my arms

I hold you, even when gone

It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.

This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.

So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted. 

But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies. 

Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.

Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them. 

Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.

But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.

That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat. 

He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.

“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”

Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke. 

“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.

They had to protect their children. 

The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.

They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.

Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.

As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.

Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.

She resembled you. 

He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you. 

She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something. 

Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.

She saw it too.

Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family. 

His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.

Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life. 

She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.

Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.

She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.

She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”

“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan. 

“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.

“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying. 

Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded. 

“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life. 

Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family. 

“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.

“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister. 

You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces. 

They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.

Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.

It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago. 

You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children. 

Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems. 

It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.

You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.

How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand. 

She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.

It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you. 

You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.

She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it. 

She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree. 

She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had. 

She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother. 

But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again. 

It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.

They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister. 

Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.

Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived. 

Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.

And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew. 

By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of. 

Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members. 

You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life. 

You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.

The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins. 

You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.

You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin. 

She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.

Grace.

You spoke her name before Kiri told you.

An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.

“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.

You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved. 

They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it. 

They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you. 

You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood. 

But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief. 

“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.

“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.

Back to her.

That girl.

She haunted them. 

A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago. 

They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost. 

But she was back. 

They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure. 

Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.

They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed. 

But she wasn’t.

She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living. 

They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.

They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.

It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.

You couldn’t be. 

But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her. 

“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief. 

“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it. 

He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face. 

“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways. 

“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”

Their eyes met. 

At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again. 

All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind. 

It almost hurt more than the grief itself. 

They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers. 

It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.

Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.

You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.

He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-

“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.

“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”

Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.” 

Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him. 

“No, we simply see how great you are.”

Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter. 

Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.

You weren’t alone.

You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly. 

You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place. 

Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.

The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live. 

It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved. 

Just not by them. 

And that was ok. 

They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good. 

You’d found what you needed, even if it wasn’t with them. 

[d0llcuries]

℘ ㆍ learn to share

summary: neteyam lets his little siblings have whatever they want, especially tuktirey. she’s just so cute! how could you say no to that face? usually he would h no problem letting her have what she want but when it came to you, he found himself not wanting to compromise.

tuk’s affection for you held that peculiar purity only children manage. there was an instinctive possessiveness, lacking any calculated thought, and an unrestrained loyalty that was evident in every shared touch. when those thin limbs curled around your waist or her tiny fingers traced a path through the ferns to a mossy nook she’d quietly claimed as yours both, neteyam never found reason to protest against it. she’d press her face into your ribs when you sat, call you her extra sister. she was so tiny, still missing a back molar, over-enunciating her r sounds, and everything in her life fit neatly into yes or no, want or don’t. she admired you with barely restrained conviction because you never told her no. your lap was warmer than her woven cot, and you told stories with your whole face and let her interrupt them. she always won when you played, and you never brought it up. for a long stretch, all of it was uncomplicated and entirely sweet.

fruit started flying past his ears whenever you climbed onto his ikran instead of walking back with tuk. she’d go quiet for a second, then launch a half-ripe piece of yovo in a movement that she thought was sneaky. he’d barely sit down beside you at mealtime before she’d twist in from your other side, make noise just to drown him out, latch onto whatever sentence he’d begun since she meant to finish it better. she’d stop playing altogether if you weren’t the one she got to chase. hunter-hunted became something she wouldn’t even consider unless you promised to run slow. one night after you left early, she burst into tears without warning. when their mother pressed, tuk slapped her arm across her eyes and said it wasn’t fair that neteyam had stolen you. whenever he came near, she’d press herself harder into your side. speak louder when he murmured something only for you. your name came out of her mouth first, louder than necessary.

you never scolded her, it was impossible to not find her actions endearing. then again, maybe that’s what made it worse.

neteyam had given up so many things, always with that too-old composure jake mistook for maturity, always paired together with that quiet bow of the head that made kiri roll her eyes and lo’ak feel weirdly guilty. when kiri wanted the biggest tswin feathers, he let her keep them, even if he’d found them first. he had let lo’ak win the race back from the eastern cliff more times than could be counted, even when his own stride outmatched his brother’s and his lungs ached to gloat. he never challenged them when they interrupted. he gave away his portions when tuk asked. he stayed behind when others got to fly out further. he let them talk over him, take over the better hunting posts, climb higher on the vines. when his parents were overwhelmed, he’d take on both patrol and babysitting duty, never once breathing resentment. he gave, and gave, and gave. what he wasn’t willing to give was you.

you weren’t even trying to make it worse, which made your unintentional negligence feel doubly cruel. you were kind to tuk, and it created this illusion for her that she had any claim over you at all. tuk didn’t understand the meaning of your gaze when neteyam caught it during late watches, nor did she notice the way your hands lingered too long when you helped him tie back his hair after long days of flight. neteyam noticed. tuk did not. or maybe she did, and it made her angry. maybe she did, and it made her bold.

“she’s my best friend,” tuk announced one evening, nose wrinkled, arms crossed, expression ripe with the kind of territorial conviction only a baby sister could manufacture.

neteyam turned away from the half-broken spear he’d been repairing. his brow arched, deliberate. “you don’t even know what that means.”

“do too,” she snapped. “means she belongs to me.”

you were sitting between them, quiet when you were entertained and nervous at once. your eyes had darted to neteyam’s face, then tuk’s, then back again. tuk pressed into your side harder, chest puffed out, small but loud. you tried to smile at her. she was just a girl, you reminded yourself. this was harmless.

neteyam disagreed. he leaned back on one arm, muscles stiffening under the stretch of his chest. he looked so smug, so settled. “doesn’t work that way, tuk-tuk.”

she squinted. “why not?”

“because,” he said, hand sliding behind your back under the pretense of stretching, “she picked me.”

you gasped so softly it was barely audible. tuk stared, neteyam smirked. you were sure he’d never looked more insufferable.

“no she didn’t!” tuk shrieked. “she plays with me every day! we pick berries together! we made bracelets! she taught me to ride! she sleeps in my tent when she visits!”

he nodded, nodding too patiently. “that’s true. she also kissed me behind the fire ring last moon. what did she do with you again?”

“neteyam!” you smacked his chest, scandalized. tuk was shrieking. neteyam grabbed your wrist mid-smack, fingers wrapping around your pulse. you couldn’t pull away, and not just because of his grip. his smile wasn’t sly anymore.

“you said you didn’t want a mate yet,” she accused, tiny arms crossed over her chest, mouth turned. “you said you don’t even like the boys in the village.”

your lips parted, “i said i didn’t like most of them.”

neteyam grinned against your shoulder and leaned forward, so your faces nearly touched. you laughed a little and elbowed him, but didn’t move away. you always let him stay close.

“i’m not a boy in the village,” he murmured, tongue clicking against the back of his teeth, “i’m your future mate.”

tuk made a disgusted sound. “no, i’m her mate!”

you looked between them. neteyam was still grinning, cheek resting against his fist, utterly unfazed. tuk was shaking with fury, fists balled, braids shaking. her cheeks were pink, teeth bared.

“you can’t even hunt yet,” he said, barely suppressing a laugh.

“i will!” tuk shouted. “and she loves me more!”

“does she?” neteyam tilted his head at you, “does she love you more than me?”

“you’re being mean,” tuk snapped. “you always give me what i want!”

he finally looked at her. “not this.” tuk’s lip wobbled.

you told tuk the next day that you’d always love her, but that neteyam was different. she didn’t understand, and maybe she never would. she pouted for three days. neteyam was smug the whole time. you ignored them both until you couldn’t anymore. when you kissed him in the mouth of the forest, behind a tree tuk couldn’t climb, neteyam kept laughing into your mouth. every time you tried to silence him, he just laughed harder. he was so happy. you hated it but you kissed him again.

not this time, he thought.

author’s note: this is a repost :3 PLEASEEEE send requests!!! i mean if you want. rise and shine avatar fandom it’s time to rise from the dead!