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avatarkv · 1 year ago

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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks.

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center.

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame.

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity.

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend.

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living.

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry.

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself.

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently.

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too.

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval.

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.”

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well.

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, ��Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand.

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.”

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.)

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult.

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you.

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that.

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.”

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again.

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure.

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.”

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it.

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around.

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father.

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames.

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity.

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.”

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?”

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.”

“What are you saying?”

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?”

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.”

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them.

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms.

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.”

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.”

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.”

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had.

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort.

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent.

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes.

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message.

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.”

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ.

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table.

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless.

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so.

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment.

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal.

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor.

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock.

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking.

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them.

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare.

“Where were you?”

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–”

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks.

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed.

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared.

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body.

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?”

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?”

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!”

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child.

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?”

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him.

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault.

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say.

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair.

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?”

“Then I wish you never took me in!”

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind.

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter.

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

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ma-yawntu · 6 months ago

Text

mine, all mine.

chapter one: paradigm

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: You had your routine down to a fine art until he and his family threw a wrench in the works.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of injury, weapons, sneaking out, you're a menace fr. NO USE OF Y/N!!!

now playing... home by good neighbours

metkayina face claims

chapter two

It was early in the morning, long before the sun peeked over the horizon and bathed the village of Awa’atlu in a soft golden hue. You were silent as you crept toward the entrance to your family’s marui, placing your feet ever so carefully as to not disturb your siblings and parents and undoubtedly cop a string of questions as to why exactly you were up so early. You’d lie your way out of it, as usual, but you would remain under suspicion for far too long. But by now, you had this sneaking out business down to a fine art. Your mother’s duties as Tsahik had her awake fairly early most mornings and your father– well, you were sure the entire village knew when he was asleep given his occasional thunderous snores that you heard even in your dreams (or nightmares depending on your persuasion).

There was a short expanse of time when both your parents slept soundly and you could get away uninterrupted and unsupervised for secret little training sessions with one of the village elders, Teyoa, who was a total thorn in your side but he was the only one who agreed to train you. Your father was sure there was no need for such things as learning to fight or use an array of weapons for anything other than hunting– the Metkayina were not at war. But even from a young age, you were fascinated by the stories of warriors and the battle with the great Toruk Makto that the elders would secretly tell the children. You were sure you wanted to be a warrior, fight to defend your people. But being the oldest daughter of the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan meant there was a heavy responsibility on your shoulders. You were the tsakarem, destined to be the Tsahik one day– a far cry from your dream of being a warrior.

Then there was the total mess of having to be mated one day, you considered that to be absolutely appalling– of course, your mother would scoff and tell you off for being dramatic– but you did not want to be mated to some random boy in the village, all of which you had the utter displeasure of growing up with for the most part. You dreaded the day you passed your Iknimaya– which was a breeze by the way– but it also meant you would be an adult, able to be courted and approached by the absolute meatheads that lived in your village.

“He’s a nice boy,” your mother would comment as you rolled your eyes so far back you saw your equally displeased brain.

“He also gave Ao’nung a bald patch when we were children,” you scoffed, pulling on the intricate and almost suffocating neck piece your mother insisted you wear when boys began courting you.

“Must you have an excuse for everything?” Ronal would sigh, pressing her hands together as if praying to Eywa for the strength to not throttle her eldest child.

“Mother, A’tok is boring at best. Father would not approve of him being the next Olo’eyktan,” you would reply with a shrug, finally untying the neck piece and replacing it with the simple beaded one Tsireya had made for you many eclipses ago.

“Eywa, give me strength,” Ronal would mutter, eyes glancing up at the sky as she returned to the healing tent to tend to the wounded hunters.

Your parents were sure you made it impossible on purpose. You would avoid courting boys from the village like the plague, using your sister or tsakarem duties as an excuse almost every time. But Tsireya loved love; she would point out some of the cute village boys that came to court you, noting the gifts they had bought or their kind demeanour– she was too sweet for her own good. You had dirt on almost everyone, noting the times some of the older boys had bullied Ao’nung or bad mouthed your sister or parents– you held a grudge.

Your mother tried to busy you with tsakarem duties if you were so adamant on borderline bullying the Metkayina boys into leaving you alone. You found it boring at times, wishing you were out hunting or practising your weaponry skills with Teyoa. Of course, you wanted to honour your family and your clan, but you wanted to learn to defend the land and your spirit brothers and sisters the tulkun too. Interpreting the will and Eywa and being a healer wasn’t exactly where all the action was. Tsireya would have been a better tsakarem than you. You had heard of villages where sisters lead their clan alongside each other as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik– you would lead them in flesh and your sister could lead them in spirit. But that’s not how the Metkayina did things and Eywa forbid you mess with tradition.

So you paid attention for the most part, learned to look for ripe fruits, herbs and created healing balms and practise healing techniques. But you found it so uninteresting and boring, but you loved your people and your parents, so biting your tongue and carrying on would be enough for now.

But it only lasted so long before you wanted to sit at the bottom of the reef in an act of protest and ignore your never ending list of responsibility as the tsakarem. When you went around begging some of the elder warriors to train you, they feared the wrath of your parents (mostly your mother) and told you to stop behaving like a child. Teyoa thought you were amusing and decided to teach you, but his teaching methods were weird and required the patience you simply did not have.

“I do not see how hitting this poor defenceless bag of sand is effective,” you would grumble, burying the end of your staff into the sand, leaning on the thick weapon. Teyoa circled around you as you ‘fought’ this bag of sand, not even using a ‘real’ weapon as you so eloquently put it.

“You must be patient, child. A good warrior and hunter is patient,” he lectured, picking the staff up out of the sand and handing it to you. “Again.”

You let out a sound of annoyance before you forced the stance Teyoa had ingrained into the fabric of your soul, holding the staff toward your enemy (bag of sand) and beginning your usual fighting techniques. Teyoa had his arms crossed as he watched you, studying your form. You had a strong heart and will, always wanting to prove yourself and while he had never seen someone with such a keen heart, you were impatient but he was sure you would see it one day.

Your hands were always covered in blisters and small bruises from your training with Teyoa. He told you that warriors had tough hands, they needed the strength to wield any weapon and battle any odds. Your eyes would sparkle at the thought and you were always proud of the injuries from your hard work– though hiding it from your parents proved to be a challenge in itself. Teyoa knew he could probably get into trouble for teaching the Olo’eyktan’s daughter to fight, but you were so adamant and protective of your people, it was hard to say no.

That was the routine most days– rise early to train with Teyoa and be back before your parents even realised you were gone. You had gotten better at fighting, you would easily hold yourself in a fight and wanted to prove yourself to your father but seeking out a fight wasn’t exactly the mark of a good warrior.

“Where are you going?” Tsireya asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and you stopped dead in your tracks, turning painfully slowly to face your little sister.

“Nowhere,” you replied pathetically.

She gave you a look of confusion as her gaze shifted from your head to your feet. Your tail twitched anxiously as she watched you, “it doesn’t look like you’re going nowhere.”

“Go back to sleep, Reya,” you whispered, heading toward the entrance of your family’s marui. Tsireya stood up from her mat, wrapping her arms around herself as she met you in the middle of the marui.

“I see you do this every morning, sister. You’re worrying me,” she pouted. You sighed softly in defeat, turning to face your sister.

“I’m seeing a boy–”

“Lie.”

“I do not lie,” you replied, offended.

“You lie all the time,” Tsireya retorted, “and you do not like any of the Metkayina boys. I see through your lie and I demand you tell me the truth,” she said a little louder.

You sighed, running your hands down your face. It was impossible to lie to your sister, she knew you too well. “I’ve been training with Teyoa.”

Tsireya battled with the confession for a moment, “the old warrior?” she questioned.

“Yes, he’s been teaching me,” you replied.

“Mother and father will not be happy,” Tsireya commented, folding her arms over her chest.

“I’m aware, hence the leaving at stupid times in the morning,” you said with a huff. Tsireya gave you that look she always gave when she was worried and you felt your heart squeeze. “I am careful, Reya. He has taught me many things, I feel I can defend our people and– and the tulkun.”

“We are not at war,” she quickly said, grabbing your hands and squeezing them in her own. “You do not need to fight. We are safe here–”

“The tulkun go missing, Reya. The other clans speak of their spirit brothers and sisters disappearing, I cannot let that happen,” you replied, holding Tsireya’s hands tightly. She looked at you with such worry in her eyes. “I feel it,” you said quietly, “I feel something is wrong, that something is coming.”

“You cannot be sure,” Tsireya sighed, shaking her head.

“I am the future Tsahik, sister. I think I know when Eywa speaks,” you teased.��

“You would be a good Tsahik,” she said after a beat, knowing how you felt about your duties as tsakarem. You smile at her words, cupping her cheek softly. She knew how you felt about your tsakarem duties, wishing so desperately to be a warrior instead of a healer. But you were soft when you wanted to be, she was convinced you would be an excellent Tsahik one day.

“I must go,” you whispered, letting go of her hands.

“Be careful,” Tsireya sighed, “you cannot be so sneaky forever.”

You turned around just before stepping outside your family’s marui, “watch me.”

You sat on the beach of the neighbouring island of Awa’atlu. Your legs were covered in sand as you worked on crafting your heavy bow. Metkayina preferred to use spears, but Teyoa taught you how to make a bow, a dying art in his opinion. You had been working on it for a couple of days in secret, not wanting your parents to find out you were spending your time making weapons instead of learning to perfect your healing techniques.

“Looks good,” Teyoa commented, holding a spear and woven basket of fish in his hands. You glanced up at him and let out a sigh.

“I cannot get the string tight enough, hardly a weapon for a warrior if you ask me,” you huffed, your fingers red and tired from the thin string that was steadily starting to wear at your poor fingers from how hard you’d been trying to pull it taut.

Teyoa silently sat beside you on the sand, the heavily tattooed elder Metkayina fixing your sloppy handiwork in a matter of seconds. “Now it is a weapon fit for a warrior,” he grinned as he handed it to you. You stood up, feeling the weight of it in your hand. “It will take some getting used to–”

You lifted one of your crafted arrows, pulling the string taut before releasing it on an unsuspecting fish in the shallows of the reef. You ran toward the water, pulling the fish out with a grin on your face. Teyoa began to laugh softly.

“You overachieve,” he shook his head.

“Was that a compliment?” You teased.

“Hardly, child,” he chuckled.

You practised your aiming skills in the shade of the forest, Teyoa occasionally correctly you but leaving you to practise for the most part. You definitely lost track of time because by the time you returned to the beach, the sun had risen over the vast horizon of Pandora, a grim reminder of the fact your parents were definitely awake and you were definitely not in the village.

“Oh, Eywa, no!” You almost yelled as you started running toward the beach, clicking your tongue to get your ilu’s attention. Teyoa stayed behind, picking up his woven basket full of fish he had caught earlier and watching as you scrambled through the water.

“I’d like to see you lie yourself out of this one!” Teyoa sang from behind you. He never took much seriously, he was too old (his words) to care much about ‘getting in trouble’. You, however, cared a lot.

You dipped into the water with your ilu, quickly making tsaheylu as you tore through the water back toward your village– you were so dead and while your sister would try to cover for you; Tsireya was a pretty bad liar. Your ilu zipped through the coral reefs, pushing itself as hard as the poor animal could for your sake. You quickly surfaced, taking in a deep breath of air when you heard it– the loud horn you knew all too well.

That horn meant a few things: the tulkun were back, a ceremony was beginning or someone was missing, and given where you were and the fact that your parents had no idea, you were sure it was the latter. You dipped back before the surface, hoping and praying to Eywa your mother wouldn’t skin you for this one.

You swam in through a small opening in the twisting branches around the reef, watching as your village gathered on the sandbank, probably copping a not-so-subtle interrogation from your father about your whereabouts before he sent out the search party.

You definitely couldn’t lie your way out of this one.

Tsireya shifted anxiously as she stood by her brother, glancing around the crowd for you. She only half listened to her father as he spoke to these strangers from the forest, their sudden appearance in their village frightening the Metkayina. They were seeking uturu and while your father seemed to consider the idea, your mother scoffed at such an ask.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, Tonowari made the decision to let Jake Sully and his family stay in their village. Tsireya knew it would be difficult for them as forest Na’vi learning the way of water, but she was eager to teach.

“Our children, Ao’nung, Tsireya and…” Tonowari let out a sigh as his eyes fell on only his two youngest, with you nowhere to be seen. Tsireya winced uncomfortably at her father’s gaze. He looked around for a moment before finishing, “they will teach your children our ways.”

“Where is your sister?” Ronal asked, pulling on Tsireya’s arm. Tsireya felt like she was going to explode, unable to form a single coherent thought that wouldn’t totally expose your little routine.

“I am here!” Your voice broke out across the beach, the crowd parting for you as you made your way toward your parents. You were out of breath, your chest huffing up and down and your hair a soaked mess from your panicked race home. “Mother, I am sorry, I–” You trailed off at the sight of foreigners in your village. You recognised them as forest Na’vi– why would forest Na’vi be here? There were six of them; a family.

The forest was exceedingly far from your home in the reef and the family before you looked noticeably tired from their journey and you could only imagine how out of place they felt in your village. The youngest forest Na’vi looked at you curiously, hiding behind her father’s leg as she watched you, you smiled softly, the little Na’vi grinning back and holding her father’s leg.

“My daughter,” your father said, your attention snapping back to him, “how nice of you to join us.”

You winced at the comment, some of the younger Metkayina snickering at the comment, your brother doing the same. Tsireya swatted at his arm, effectively shutting him up. You stepped toward your father, “Father, I–”

He held his hand up, silencing you. You were going to hear about this later, you were absolutely sure of it. “Help your sister move Jake Sully and his family into their marui,” he said lowly, to which you nodded, not daring to argue with him. “I want you to teach their children our ways,” he looked at Jake Sully and his family, “so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your father gave you a look, a look that silently asked you where you’d been while simultaneously telling you he didn’t want to hear it. Tsireya came to your rescue, quickly grabbing your hand and turning to smile at the forest Na’vi. “Come. We will show you our village.”

You walked alongside Tsireya through your village, watching as she peaked behind her occasionally at what you assumed was the youngest of Jake Sully’s sons. You followed her gaze, grinning softly at your adorable sister. She caught you watching her, becoming embarrassed.

“What?” She questioned, completely unprompted.

“I said nothing,” you replied, trying not to laugh. You carried a few of the Sully’s belongings to the empty marui near the edge of the village, at least you could give them a little bit of privacy while they adjust to their new home.

Tsireya shuffled into their marui, placing their things down, “this will be your new home,” she grinned sweetly. You trailed behind her, finally getting a good look at the entire forest family. You stared at them curiously, noticing their thin tails and arms, their darker blue skin and piercing yellow eyes. You had never seen Na’vi like this before and it intrigued you.

“Thank you, this is nice, right?” Jake turned to his mate and children, smiling through his wince as his mate dropped the rolled hide on the floor with a huff. Jake turned to you and your sister, “Thank you, Tsireya and… I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name.”

Your ears perked at the sudden attention on you and you quickly told him your name, bowing your head softly. Your tail swished behind you as Jake introduced his family to you and your sister, “my mate, Neytiri,” she seemed displeased with the arrangement and was rather… intimidating. “My daughters Tuk and Kiri.” Tuk waved happily at you, to which you returned with a small smile while her sister Kiri seemed uncomfortable, pulling on the corners of her shawl. “And my sons Lo’ak and Neteyam.”

Tsireya smiled at the ground as Lo’ak caught her eye, smiling softly at your sister. But your eyes lingered on his oldest son, Neteyam. He watched you curiously and he was hard to read, he looked you up and down and you almost frowned. You stared back at him for a fleeting moment, wondering what his problem was.

“Right, well,” Tsireya said, pulling your attention to her, “we will leave you to settle and get some rest, we can go swimming in the reef later on,” she smiled politely, nodding her head as she grabbed your arm, pulling you out of their marui.

You felt Neteyam looking at you as you left, turning your head to peek back at him. Eywa, what is his problem? You thought, making a face of disdain as you caught up with your sister.

“What’s his problem?” You grumbled. You walked shoulder to shoulder with her as you made your way back to your parents in the middle of the village.

“You mean Neteyam?” Tsireya asked. You gave her a look and she giggled, “he was checking you out!”

“What? No, he wasn’t,” you frowned, a feeling of disgust pooling in your chest. Tsireya nudged your shoulder with a laugh.

“Oh, my sister. You may be a great warrior, a Tsahik in training and have a gift for scaring boys away, but he was definitely checking you out,” Tsireya babbled on and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t exactly unpopular when it came to boys wanting to court you, if anything, you did pretty well for yourself. But you simply weren’t interested in finding a mate any time soon, you were only sixteen, it felt ridiculous to rush into things (even though your parents pestered you about choosing a mate).

“How ridiculous,” you retorted. “He is a forest Na’vi, we are reef Na’vi, I’m sure he was more preoccupied with our staggeringly different appearances,” you attempted to explain the reason for his lingering gaze but your sister really wasn’t having a bar of it.

“Are you saying you didn’t think he was cute?” Tsireya asked, quirking a brow at you. You stopped in your tracks, giving her an unimpressed look. She let out a dramatic gasp, “you do think he’s cute!”

“I do not,” you retorted childishly.

“Do not lie!” She squealed. “I never thought I would see the day!”

“You pain me,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“My sister likes a boy!” She sang.

“I do not like him,” you grumbled as Tsireya danced circles around you with a grin on her face. She tugged on your arm as she jumped up and down with excitement. You would admit that he was cute but you were allowed to admire and ignore– that’s what you did best, because boys are usually cute until they open their big dumb mouths.

a/n: hi! this is my first time writing for avatar, i hope you like it! i know there wasn't much of our teyam in this but there will be more! only if this does well tho :3

dividers by @/cafekitsune

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