“I will have your heart.”
Neteyam x male!mangkwan!reader
Summary: You fall off of your ikran into the forest during a wind trader raid. Neteyam finds you while looking for his siblings, and feeling bad for you, he helps you out. You are aggressive towards him in the beginning, but quickly start to like him as his behavior intrigues you.
Wc: 3.9k
Requested by @yeoyangz
You could hear the sounds of the leaves rustling from the wind and quiet movements of the ikrans and the clan, patiently waiting for their Tsahik’s signal.
It was another day of ambushing the wind traders, stealing their items and their lives. You smiled at the thought. And so did your Tsahik and mother, Varang. You were just as vicious as she was. After all, your ferocity was what made Varang choose you on that fateful day.
The Tsahik had decided that she needed a successor. She needed someone with as much bloodlust as she did. Someone who lives for destruction and ruin.
Varang ordered the clan to present their children to her. Her plan was simple. Pit all of the children against each other. Last one standing becomes her disciple.
You watched from afar, the group of kids your age growing. You were the equivalent of a stray animal, unaware of your origin but always around. You weren’t even planning to join, until some adult spotted you dragging you into the crowd, muttering something in annoyance.
You kept bumping shoulders with the other kids, who would just shoved you back and forth. They only stopped once their Tsahik appeared before them.
“Only one of you are worthy. And to prove it, you must fight.” Varang announced, a cold smile on her face.
You felt a pair of hands push you to the ground as the crowd fell into chaos. You then understood. It was either fight or die. You grabbed a leg and pulled them down. After that moment, you let your fists do the rest of the thinking. You didn’t even remember how many people you fought that day. All of it was a blur.
You were running on adrenaline and only stopped when you felt a firm tug on your kuru. You looked up into Varang’s eyes.
“I see you, boy.” She released your kuru and grabbed your wrist, raising your fist in the air. You looked down at the sight before you. Several kids either limping or laid upon the ground. A mix of yours and others blood dripping from your knuckles.
After that day and finding out you had no parents, Varang took you in as her own, calling you her son. You would be the only competent family member of hers, she’d tell you. Weakness was never an option. So she rigorously trained you, day and night. She showed you the ways of fire and its purity. Varang was the one to help you learn the kuru’s full capabilities. How you could seize control of anything you wanted with it. How it could bring your enemies to their knees.
And overtime, you turned into the perfect Mangkwan warrior, feared and respected.
Because of that, Varang loved bringing you along with her when raiding the other clans.
You leaned lower, your ikran doing the same while your eyes stayed on the wind traders. You glanced at Varang, who looked at you before grinning.
“Make them suffer.”
“Yes, Tsahik.” You nodded.
Letting out a war cry, Varang brought her nightwraith of the ledge and soared through the air towards the airships, you and the clan following after.
Even from afar, you could see the panicked expressions appear on the Tlalim’s faces as they frantically moved about, more and more of your warriors emerging from behind the mountains. Lines of black smoke following behind each one of you.
You held on tight to the harness, ducking down as your ikran picked up speed.
You lit the end of your arrow, placed in your bow, aimed, and let go. You watched as it pierced through one of the airship’s ropes, manically laughing as the fire climbed its way up. You flew towards a different ship, taking out your dagger as your ikran moved closer to the medusoid. Your blade punctured the animals side, cutting a long line as your ikran flew forward before returning it to your side.
You pulled on the handle, making your ikran go upwards. You cried and yelped, raising your fist into the sky, which your fellow clan members responded to by doing the same.
A strange noise then caught your attention, something similar to thunder. Your head turned as your eyes landed onto a man with some odd tool, a bang as another one of the Mangkwan fell.
You looked to your mother, who was just as puzzled as you were.
A warrior then flew by you two, holding a pouch.
You took out another arrow, lighting its end. You held up your bow and waited for Varang’s signal. She brought her hand up and then threw it down, signing the warrior to aim for the airship below.
“I am the fire!” Varang declared before you both shot your arrows into the pouch, setting him aflame. The warrior dove straight into the medusoid.
You grinned from ear to ear, a reflection of the explosion in your eyes. You raised your bow into the air, letting out sharp yelps and chants.
An arrow grazed the side of your cheek. You brought you hand up to your face, and lowered it.
Blood.
You looked of where the arrow came from. The one responsible already drawing another. You leaned in close to your ikran and directed it towards the attacker.
Your ikran clawed into his, snapping its head and biting down over and over. You narrowly avoided his ikran’s jaw. You hissed with an amused look on your face.
You were about to clash with the boy again until your ikran screeched in pain. You looked at its left wing. An arrow. You snarled in rage. Your ikran thrashed around, almost throwing you off of its back but you were persistent. However, you didn’t even have a second to think. You screamed as you felt an arrow pierce through your right thigh.
You looked around to see where the shoot came from but in all the chaos, you couldn’t tell. You tried to seize control of your ikran as it struggled in the air. You tried to hold on, but it was no use and you were thrown off of its back.
Varang could only watch as you plummeted into the forest, preoccupied in fighting the one who hurt you.
That was the last thing you saw before the forest engulfed you. You felt the wind rush against your back. You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact. But to your surprise, you felt the large leaves gently catch you, and lowering you into the plants.
You opened your eyes again but your vision became blurry. Soon enough, everything turned to black.
Your ears shot up before your eyes opened. You looked up to see a small prey animal, which you hissed at, scaring it away. You looked around you. Your body was caught up in the vines, barely suspending you above the ground. You spotted your bow and arrows just out of reach. The sky was darker than before. You must’ve been out of it for more than an hour. There was no longer any noise too, just the calming sounds of nature and the chirps of the insects and small animals . A little too calming for your taste.
Varang told you about what it looked like before the fire came down from the mountain. This must’ve been what she was describing. It irked you. How could Eywa leave all of your clan to die in a barren land while places as luscious in life like this existed?
You tugged each of your arms but to no avail. Both of them were stretched out and your legs were tangled up too. And the more you moved around, the more your leg hurt. That damn arrow was still in there.
“Fuck.” You muttered.
You let your body go limp, your head dropping. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t grab your dagger to cut the vines. You didn’t see a single sign of your clan being nearby. You were completely defenseless from the predators in the area too. And you’d rather die than pray for Eywa to save you.
“Lo’ak? Kiri?” An unknown voice called out. You raised your head and could see the figure quickly approaching. The stranger’s hand pushed through the leaves, his eyes falling upon you and widening.
It only took you a second to recognize him as the one you were fighting earlier.
You hissed at him, your hand instinctively tried to reach for your dagger. Despite being unable to attack him, you still bared your teeth.
And the boy had his bow and arrow pointed towards you, ready to shoot at any moment. His eyes scanned over you. The red and black paint all over your ash-covered body. The killer look in your ember eyes. The animal bones and piercings adorned all over you. His hand pulled the string of his bow back, but then he looked closer. The vines keeping you trapped. The dried up blood on your cheek and your leg. The way your eye twitched and your brows furrowed as you tried to mask your wincing. Even with your fierce behavior, you still looked like a poor prey stuck in a trap. He couldn’t help but feel bad for you.
“What are you waiting for, huh?” You barked. “Go on and shoot me. You have an easy target.” An eery smile creeped onto your face.
The stranger lowered his bow and cautiously walked towards you, making sure to look you in your eyes. To say you were confused would be an understatement. You had never witness someone come up to you in the way that he was. They usually were either shaking in fear or trying to kill you.
But him, he was seemed to be trying to comfort you with quiet affirmations.
“I’m not going to attack you while you’re like this.”
You then saw him unsheathe his own knife. You laughed. “So you prefer to murder your enemies up close? Hm, and I thought your people were against such violence.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice firm. He grunted as he sliced through each vine, releasing you.
Your body fell to the ground with a thud. You were on your knees, adjusting to new feeling of not being in the air. You rubbed your wrist.
“Are you-” He was able to get out before you tackled him to the ground, grabbing your dagger. Your hand wrapped around his throat, your other holding your knife. You were just about to stab him in the heart before you felt a burning sensation in your leg.
The dagger dropped onto his chest as your hands reached for your wound.
The boy took your wrist, taking your hand off of his throat, and shoved you off of him. His hand was wrapped around your wrist and his other held down your shoulder, pinning you to the ground, you face against the dirt.
You growled as you struggled beneath him.
“That’s the thanks I get for helping you?” He snatched a nearby vine and tied it around your wrists. Once he made sure it was secure, he got off of you and sat you up. “I promise you I’m not trying to kill you.”
You scoffed as you struggled in the binds.
“You are a deeply mistrusting person.” He sighed, sitting across from you. “My name’s Neteyam.” He almost outstretched his hand, forgetting your current situation.
You stopped and looked at up at him in confusion. “Are you trying to befriend me?” Your tone offended but curious.
“I’m just trying to get you to not view me as a threat. It’s not right to attack an enemy in such a vulnerable state.” Neteyam sat across from you, placing his dagger and bow on the side, away from the both of you. “What’s your name?”
You turned your chin up. “Y/n te L/n Varang’itan, Neteyam.” You muttered his name as if you weren’t sure if it was really his own. You’ve heard of that name before. You knew that Toruk Makto had a son, and if he wasn’t lying about his name, then the boy in front of you was him, the perfect warrior.
“So you’re her son.” Neteyam commented. He had heard about you as well. About how ruthless your clan was. About how you all rejected the will of Eywa. About how the Tsahik’s successor was just as unmerciful as she was. And as much as he hated to even think it, you were even as handsome as the rumors told. The way your eyes looked deeply into his. The way your arms flexed against the binds. The scars decorated all over your body. He felt as if he were stuck in a trance.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You moved away from with what strength you had left. Exhausted, your body slowly gave up. It wasn’t like you were going anywhere soon with your injured leg.
Neteyam’s eyes moved down to your thigh. “Don’t move. I’m going to remove the arrow, and if you resist, it’s going to hurt more.” He carefully moved closer to you. “And don’t hiss at me again, okay?”
Your mouth closed.
Neteyam broke off the feathered end and set it to the side. He, unfortunately, recognized those feathers at the end of the arrow. They were his mother’s. He was going to figure out how to apologize for that later.
“I’m going to pull it out now, alright?” He gently placed one of his hands on your thigh, the other holding onto the arrow.
You grinded your teeth at the feeling of the arrow exiting your body, your ears pinned to the sides of your head. It gave you a sense of relief when it finally left your body but also caused your leg to start bleeding again. Neteyam reacted immediately, tearing off a piece of his shawl, wrapping it around the wound, and tying it tight enough to stop the blood from coming out.
You breathed out as your shoulders sank. You didn’t understand. Why was this boy helping you? And he had multiple chances to kill you right then and there, so why hasn’t he? Curiousity started taking over your suspicion.
You tilted your head. Your eyes trailed down his body. You observed the glowing dots scattered all over his skin. They were in the same pattern the dots on your skin were, the only different between yours and his was the fact yours had been picked off with the sharp end of a blade years ago, leaving bumps instead of luminous spots like his.
“How does that feel?” Neteyam asked as he made the last knot.
“It feels fine.” You replied. The atmosphere almost felt as if you weren’t trying to kill him beforehand. Suddenly, your stomach grumbled loudly. You sighed in frustration.
“You must be thirsty too.” Neteyam moved next to you. “Here, drink this first.” He reached for the water pouch on his hip, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to your lips.
You moved your head away.
Neteyam frowned. “What is it?”
“You could be trying to poison me.” You answered, which Neteyam found ridiculous, but by your tone, he could tell you were serious.
But he wasn’t wrong. You were absolutely parched, but not enough to risk your life over it. You’d rather die to thirst than trust.
“I’m not, but watch.” He brought the mouth of the pouch to his lips and took a sip. “See? It’s just water.”
Neteyam offered it to you again, this time you drank. You hadn’t even realized how thirsty you were until that first sip, the water running down your chin.
“Wait here.” Neteyam put the cap back on and secured the bag to his hip. He stood up, looking around for something, anything, to feed you. After spotting a few fruits high up in a nearby tree, Neteyam made his way to the plant, swiftly climbing up it, picking a fruit, and jumping down.
“Just bite it from my hand.” Neteyam presented it to you.
“What is it?”
He blinked. “What?”
“The land of my village is barren. It does not grow anything, nor does it need to.” You angrily stated.
“I see,” Neteyam tossed around the fruit in his hand. “Well then, this is a Yovo fruit. You don’t need to do much, just bite down and chew.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“Alright, I’ll prove to you yet again I’m not trying to kill you right now… again.” He sunk his teeth into the yovo, chewed, and swallowed.
You cautiously sniffed the fruit before taking a bite. As soon as the flavor hit your tongue, your pupils seemed to double in size, and your tail swished side to side. You had never taste anything like it before, your palette accustomed to mostly meat, dry and tough. You started eating it like your life depended on it and finished it within seconds.
Maybe this Omaticaya boy wasn’t all too bad, you thought. No one had ever treated you the way he had. His kindness brought out a soft feeling inside of you. For the first time, in a long time, you experienced the feeling of safety, and you wanted more. Now, you had an urge to have him all for yourself. Plus, you wouldn’t mind having a pretty boy at your side.
“Hm,” You smiled and leaned back against the trunk of the tree behind you. “I think I like you, Neteyam.” You slowly looked him up and down. “I will have your heart.” You licked your lips, tasting the sweet fruit juice.
Neteyam stared at you, still processing what you just said and your switch in attitude. Weren’t you just trying to kill him a little while ago? “I’m flattered?” His tone unsure.
“I like your hair. Most Mangkwan by our age shave it all off.” You watched as each of his braids swayed with the breeze. The norm didn’t apply to you though. As the Tsahik’s son, you were able to do whatever you wanted with your appearance and clothing, just like her. You wondered what Neteyam would look like in Mangkwan attire.
“I should get going.” Neteyam fixed his shawl, looking back and forth between you and the forest.
“Stay.” You calmly stated. “Please?” You tilted your head to the other side, your eyes bigger than ever, your tail even wrapping around his.
“I…” Neteyam‘s eyes wandered to you two’s tails, to your eyes, and then the forest behind you. He knew he needed to look for his family, but it would eat him alive if his choice to leave you alone, left you, in your injured situation, dead. Neteyam carefully considered his options, a million thoughts running through his mind.
An idea flashed in his mind.
Bring you with him, find his family, and then part ways. It would be risky, to bring you along. Neteyam could just predict how the others, especially his mother, would react to him bringing along a Mangkwan with him, and the Tsahik’s son of all the Ash people.
“Neteyam?” You delicately whispered.
His tail whipped side to side and nearly hit the back of his head. “Sorry. I was just thinking… Do you think you can walk?”
“I can try.” You said before Neteyam moved behind you and cut the vines holding your arm together. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Try to stand up.” He placed your hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around your waist, carefully lifting you up.
You winced at the sudden pressure on your right leg, but adjusted quickly and was finally standing, with the help of Neteyam of course. Your arm was now around his shoulder as his other hand held onto yours.
“My ikran is nearby. We can-”
An arrow flew past your eyes, sticking into the tree bark.
“You need to leave. Now.” You pushed Neteyam off of you, a confused, worried expression on his face.
You limped towards your bow and arrow, scrambling to draw an arrow and pointing it at Neteyam. Your head snapped back and forth as the sounds of calls and the silhouette grew, coming closer and closer.
Neteyam took a step closer. “Y/n-”
You took a step back, or at least tried to. “If you do not go now, my mother will have your head on a pole.” You hissed.
“Son!” Varang shouted as she commanded her warriors to rush towards you and the ‘threat.’ The Mangkwan climbed through the roots of the trees and pushed past the leaves. Neteyam was barely avoiding the amount of arrows attacking him. You moved in front of him, trying to slow their shots.
“Get far away from here!” You urged.
Neteyam looked into your eyes one last time before sprinting into the forest, his figure quickly disappearing into the trees.
You released your arrow, purposely shooting it into a tree. You stared into nothing when he was gone. You were surprised by your own actions… Did you just protect someone? You had grown so used to saving your own skin and not caring for anyone else’s but yours and your mother’s, putting your own life at risk for someone else’s felt odd.
Varang and the clan had reached it you. She looked at your condition up and down, examining the cut on your cheek, before ordering some of her warriors to chase after the other boy. You watched as they ran the same path as Neteyam.
“What happened to your leg, boy?”
You lowered your head in respect. “I was shot by an arrow, Tsahik.”
“I saw.” She flatly stated. “I’m asking why is there a cloth tied around it.” Varang pointed directly at the torn piece of Neteyam’s shawl.
“To stop the bleeding.” You kept your answer vague.
You could feel Varang’s intense stare upon you, she was deciding her next words. “You will ride with me upon my nightwrath.” She turned towards the others. “We will return home soon. Come, Y/n.”
She walked as you were forced to limp behind her for you were taught long ago that dependence is weakness, a thing worse than death. You glanced and couldn’t stop looking back where you last saw Neteyam. For the first time ever, you had wished that your clan would not succeed in their hunting. You wished to see him again, hopefully alive.
Extra:
Neteyam made his way through the leaves and bushes before seeing his family, except his mother.
“Neteyam!” Tuk exclaimed, running up to him and hugging him at his hip. The rest of his family turning towards him, all breathing out sighs of relief.
“Bro!” Lo’ak smiled, also running up to him before pausing, Kiri doing the same.
“Are you okay?” Jake spun Neteyam around by his shoulder, checking for injuries.
“Yes, sir, I’m okay.” Neteyam looked at his family’s confused faces, even Tuk looked confused. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t see it?” Lo’ak partially laughed, amazed that his brother didn’t realize it. Neteyam’s brows furrowed. He knew he wasn’t majorly injured. Was there a bug on him?
Jake sighed, his hand dragging down his face. “You’ve got red and black paint all over your body, boy.”
“What.” He finally looked down. There was red and black paint smeared almost on all of him. His arms, legs, and torso all tainted with the two colors. It must’ve gotten on him from when you two wrestled and lifting you…
“Bro, did you get into a fist fight with one of the Mangkwan? How are you still alive?” Lo’ak scoffed, receiving a slap at his arm from Kiri.
“I… encountered one.” The image of your eyes flashed in his mind.
“Who?” Kiri asked what they were all thinking.
Neteyam looked around and then to the floor. “The son of Varang.” He responded under his breath as if speaking of you would summon you right behind him, but deep inside of him, something yearned for you.
“What.” They spoke in unison.
Note: Neteyam is alive guys… but anyways, I would love to make like a pt. 2 and like expand on this if it’s well liked enough, or if anyone gives me more ideas. I’m always open to requests and comments guys pleaseeee. PLEASEEEE.
Also I am sorry to those whose requests I haven’t finished yet. I promise I’m cooking them in my drafts right now.
OH AND TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS. I hope it was to your satisfaction. I hope y/n is as ruthless as you wanted him to be.
