Pairing: (VERY obsessed) Neteyam x Strong!Fem Human/Avatar Reader
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/comfort - Medium burn, Enemies-to-Lovers, Post-canon AU: Neteyam survived the shot and all the Sullys went home
Synopsis: General Frances Ardmore asks her ambitious and strong-willed daughter to help convince Jake Sully to cooperate. If she succeeds, she promises to give her what she values most in life: a huge amount of money.
Neteyam feels completely tired of all the expectations and duties. He just wants to be happy, but he feels like no one understands him â until life brings him face to face with his greatest enemy, and he realizes they have much more in common than he ever thought.
For every girl who wants to experience her dark feminine energy
Main story chapters:
PROLOGUE
Chapter 1 - Arrival
Chapter 2 - Enemies
Chapter 3 - Fracture
Chapter 4 - Cave
Chapter 5 - Kali'weya
Chapter 6 - Awakening
Chapter 7 - Rise
Chapter 8 - My way - soon
Chapter 9 - Avatar - soon
Teasers from future chapters:
"Hamburger"
Weave /Mild nsfw/
Pleasing /Explicit!/
Fitting in (In all the Right Ways) Part 1 /Explicit!/
Every like, share, and comment is highly appreciated! đĽşđđ
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You mentioned you and Nete share the same type right? You even mentioned that you are more of a rule follower than him. Please tell me more about it!
I mean how much do you relate to Neteyam? In what ways? I would love to know more about you!
Ofcourse if you are comfortable with sharing so much about yourself!!
Sorry for the late reply - as usual, my overtime at work got a little out of hand ^^"
So, Iâll try to sum it up in a more general way, and partly from Neteyamâs point of view as well, although Iâve already written a lot of details HERE in my Neteyam character analysis post.
Itâs somewhat awkward that many of these traits apply to me too, but Iâll try to stick to the general INFJ characteristics, because of course there are differences based on enneagram and other factors (but thatâs such a complicated and deep level of personality analysis that I wonât overwhelm you with it).
Now, the common points:
First of all, if you asked our close friends or the part of our family thatâs close to us whether weâre 'antisocial', I think most of them would say absolutely not. Thatâs because when weâre comfortable with someone, we love spending time with them - almost to a pathological degree - since one of our main love languages is quality time. On top of that, these are the people we show our real, slightly insane personality to, and with them - but only with them! - we tend to act like complete idiots. xD Neteyam clearly experiences this with his family, and with Spider too, although we might count him as 'family', and Iâm sure heâd be like this with his partner as well: childish goofing around, little bits of teasing, but strictly respecting the other personâs boundaries. For example, itâs not by accident that he teases Loâak by calling him 'skxawng', and not something like 'come here, five-finger' - which would already be too much. We donât want to hurt anyone, we just like to poke at people a little. Thatâs a sign of comfort for us.
On the other hand, if you ask anyone who doesnât know us yet, theyâre usually confused. They tend to see us as quiet, withdrawn, slightly strange people, but they canât really say anything bad about us, because fundamentally weâre kind and helpful to everyone. Itâs just⌠making friends is hard, and at first we often come across as cold. Even though we love talking about deep, meaningful topics, listening to others, and we can be very friendly if we notice that the other person is genuinely curious about our weird little interests. If they arenât, we donât force it, and we really dislike superficiality - both in people and in topics. Small talk is our death. We donât care how expensive walnuts are this year, but we can gladly talk about quantum physics or the meaning of life! xD
Our 'social battery' drains very quickly.
For example, after a gathering we need days of silence and solitude (preferably with a good book, game, or series) to feel like a complete human being again and not hate everyone. xD And then, once the battery is recharged, weâre back to being the ultimate people-pleasers who love helping others and listening to everyoneâs problems. We genuinely like it when people ask for our advice, think of us, or invite us to things. Actually going to those things, though - thatâs another question! xD Believe me, this is very, very strange for us too, but as a friend once put it: 'Youâre the kind of person who simultaneously wants to hug and save all of humanity - and wipe them out.' Okay, itâs not that dramatic, but thereâs some truth to it. xD
Then thereâs empathy⌠our greatest superpower and our biggest curse at the same time.
We absorb other peopleâs moods like a sponge. Itâs good in the sense that we understand others more easily, but we also experience everyone elseâs pain as if it were our own, which often causes intense mood swings. Many times we donât even know whatâs wrong with us - weâre just glad that weâve lifted some weight off the other person (who visibly feels better afterward), but inside we just keep collecting all of it and suffer quietly when no one sees us. And we canât 'turn it off' either: when we walk into a room, we instantly feel if thereâs tension or if somethingâs wrong with someone, and we immediately feel itâs our responsibility to fix it, no matter how little it actually has to do with us.
If someone around us is sad, we physically feel bad because of it. Thatâs why we always want to create peace: partly because we feel itâs our duty to make everyone happy, and partly out of self-defense, because if someone else is sad, weâll be sad too. We suffer when thereâs tension, even if weâre not involved. A peaceful environment is essential for us, so if we have to, weâll take the blame for others too - just so thereâs calm, and we donât have to see our loved ones suffer.
Another very characteristic thing is a kind of sixth sense - weâre famous for our intuition.
Weâre constantly scanning the future, seeing connections that others donât. Thatâs why Neteyam instinctively knows that Loâak is about to do something stupid again (like in that scene where he can tell from a single glance that heâs going to visit the tulkun, even though their parents donât suspect a thing yet). This isnât prophecy, itâs pattern recognition. When we care about someone, we pay attention to every little twitch, and we learn to read whatâs going on in their head. Naturally, this also makes us anxious a lot. :D Itâs hard to live in the present and relax, because our brain is constantly whispering, 'What ifâŚ?' and since weâre often right, afterward thereâs always that 'I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN.' But we donât tell anyone, because theyâd think weâre completely insane, and we 'slightly' overthink what our environment thinks about us. We know we shouldnât, but our biggest nightmare is that people around us will see our flaws. :âD
And from here comes the next point: perfectionism and saving the world.
We are NEVER, ever satisfied with ourselves. We always feel like we should be doing more, being better. The paradox is that we depend on praise from others and fear criticism, yet⌠the best motivation for our growth is when someone doesnât coddle us. Then weâll move heaven and earth to make that certain person proud (like, in Neteyamâs case, Jake), or to prove that weâre not weak (as in the case of the Reader). Itâs not enough for us to simply be good at something. We have to be 'right' and 'perfect.' This can be paralyzing at times, but with the right motivation we can truly become capable of things that even surprise us afterward. :â)
You asked what I meant by saying Iâm more rule-following.
Well, if Jake had told me to stay with the ikran, I probably would have stayed there. Mostly. xD True, I might have a dead mother now, but⌠(okay, maybe I would have sat there for a long time and then joined once the shooting got closer.) Similarly, I probably wouldnât sneak onto spaceships just to prove that Iâm a warrior too, if I were told to stay put XD Of course, I would first deliver a six-page argument to my parents about why they should take me with them. :"D
/Obviously, if Loâak goes off to get his ass shot at, Iâd go after him too, holding my head in frustration, so the difference is just that outside of life-or-death situations Iâm more of the 'try to convince you' type, whereas in Neteyam this tension comes out in physically moving immediately and snapping at his little brother with a 'youâre not going anywhere.'
One more thing I can say is that weâre all very idealistic, we have a strong sense of justice, and we make decisions based on our principles - but since weâre so strongly emotionally oriented, we tend to become completely split if those two clash.
To sum it up:
Being an INFJ is like being both a wise old soul and an overly sensitive child at the same time. :D Weâre constantly balancing between wanting to save the world and wanting to quietly sit in a corner staring into space, judging everything - but without hurting anyone in the process. ^^
I made my older brother take the test, he is also an ENTJ. Honestly it makes sense now.
I never thought we were that close as siblings because when I watch tv shows and movies, close sibling relationships are mostly portrayed as this fun and adventurous thing and we don't really have that type of relationship. We don't even fight, once in a while we will have minimal banter. (we did fight as little kids)
My relationship with my brother is lowkey... formal (idk) We normally talk about our goals and future plans. We admire eachother alot, give eachother constructive criticisms and motivate eachother to achieve our individual goals. Working on a mutual goal together is basically our bonding time đ We do talk about our interests sometimes.
We love debating though. Its our second way of bonding
Now that I think about it we are so similar too. We pretty much have the same goals and same way of thinking. He is basically my male version!
I didn't read about Infjs yet. I plan on reading about them to understand Neteyam better.
Wow, if neither of you has changed since childhood (since MBTI can be shaped by circumstances), then youâre both true survivors! đŻ
That said, your lives couldn't have been easy. đ (Usually, it takes a 'not-so-supportive' environment to birth Commanders.) There are exceptions, of course, but in my personal experience, thereâs often something in the background, like a child realizing they have to be strong because, for example, their mother wouldn't stand up for them in tough situations. đ I hope Iâm wrong, but when two siblings both turn out to be ENTJs as adults, thereâs usually a bit of turbulence in the parent-child relationship that is worth looking into - understanding those roots can really improve self-awareness!
Anyway, Iâm really glad your relationship with your brother is good, even if it feels formal. 𼺠The bond between two NTJs isn't really that typical 'fluffy' movie sibling trope. For NT types, shared goals and debating are basically a love language, it shows high mutual respect. ^~^ Itâs enough that you can count on each other!
Uhh, Iâll expand on the INFJ stuff a bit later, it's a bit long and complicated đ Iâm currently at work and my lunch break is over. đĽ˛
Alright ignore the first ask, I got Entj-A on the second test. I resonate with it a lot but I can see myself as an Intj-A too. idk I'm kinda torn between those two.
Personally I think I am an Entj
Oh my, the Commander type đ¤đ
Itâs actually pretty normal to feel a connection to both types, as ENTJs and INTJs are quite close. The main difference is that ENTJs are the initiating leaders, while INTJs are the 'quiet masterminds'. Plus, ENTJs are known as the most 'introverted extroverts,' so the line is often blurry.
Also, congrats - ENTJ is the rarest type among women! đ¤ Ehm, if you will read about, donât let the typical fictional examples scare you! People often label goal-oriented characters as 'evil' because they aren't constantly empathizing with everyone, but that determination is exactly what made so many historical figures so great! (Caesar, Napoleon, Roosevelt...)
Oh, and I think I get now why you like Neteyam then đ â¤ď¸
INFJs are kind of a special type for XNTJs, their inner values and overall worldview are actually pretty similar, but because theyâre more feeling-oriented and empathetic, they can see past the outer walls and notice who NTJs really are behind the mask. Thatâs why they often end up being this slightly annoying but still loved comfort character, someone who doesnât 'repel' NTJs the way a very naĂŻve, overly romantic person might.
INFJs do judge too, but they also have this underlying sense of understanding toward the world. Like with Neteyam, you can literally see it on his face like 'oh my eywa everyone here is an idiot,' but he still goes and saves all of them anyway đ
By the way⌠I actually use this pairing quite often for the Tamed by Neteyam x Reader memes đ¤ For example, these are some of the original versions Iâve already used đ
How did you figure out Neteyam's personality type?
Please tell me! I wanna figure out other characters' personality types now!
You can see it here or if you type the characterâs name + MBTI into Google, youâll find it that way too đ
(MBTI is a personality type system inspired by the work of psychologist Carl Jung, itâs based on psychological ideas about how people perceive the world and make decisions that helps you understand how you think, and interact with others. âşď¸ It looks at four basic preferences, like whether you recharge inwardly or outwardly, or decide more with logic or feelings, and those combine into 16 types. Itâs not about putting you in a box, more like... a self-awareness map thatâs useful for understanding yourself and others.)
There are free tests online if youâre curious about your own type! đ
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Oh bro, how do you make your characters feel this alive?!?!?! Most oc's arenât even this deep, and your Neteyam, oh Gooood, heâs so incredibly well written! I honestly think this is exactly what he wouldâve been like if he still alive đ
btw Fitting in 2 when???? đ
First of all, thank you so, so much đĽşđĽşđĽşđ
As for the reader, all I can really say is that she probably exists because there are some similar women in my close environment. Each of them holds a special place in my heart (even if theyâre not always easy to deal with xD) - and I really care about them. đĽš
Iâve always loved women whom their surroundings usually label as âinsufferable bitchesâ without ever trying to understand them, when in reality, most of them have wonderful personalities, and once you truly get to know them, you gain a connection that can last a lifetime. Most of them have had difficult lives, but if you learn to really see them (wow, that sounded very Avatar-ish đ ), youâll find a real diamond. âşď¸
One of my life goals is to eventually become someone who can be a steady, safe presence for them, and in truth, this fanfiction is also a kind of deep tribute from me to those who fight their demons every single day.
I designed the reader not to be the usual blank slate, since there are already countless amazing fics like that, but rather so that people who have experienced trauma (and you donât need to think of extreme cases here, sadly, many people went through things no child ever should), could have a small place on the internet where they can find reassurance that they, too, are lovable and valuable. They just need to find the environment where that is truly appreciated!
That said, I deliberately leave her appearance and physique open to interpretation. Even though being Ardmoreâs daughter might make some things seem fixed, I firmly believe genetics are unpredictable. I usually lean into a classic boss-lady style anyway - itâs a wonderful vibe, and classic elegance suits everyone. (In my opinion.)
As for Neteyam⌠Iâm always a bit unsure whether Iâm doing him right đđ Fun fact - we actually share the same personality type, and even our enneagram is the same - except Iâm even more rule-abiding than he is in real life (yes, somehow that is possible) 𤨠And... I'm the first-born in my family, with problematic but lovely siblings. đ That might be why some people say I can really âcaptureâ him, even though heâs obviously far sexier and much more boyfriend-material than me. đ That said, I wouldnât claim that I understand him perfectly - after all, there are still plenty of questions I have even about myself xD
And psychology and self-development are my hobbies (alongside being a nerd), so I try my best to portray him as believably as possible, given the circumstances Dx
I wonât say it isnât challenging, and sometimes I donât feel like Iâm making him IC enough - but well⌠the poor guy was shot, so I donât think it would be right for him to be exactly the same as he was at fifteen, before all of that happened. đ° Even though heâll heal a lot, and I do plan to bring back parts of his playful, teasing, good-humored self, the plot does place strong constraints on that - at least if I want to handle it realistically.
I hope youâll enjoy the continuation as well. Thank you so much for writing to me! đĽşđĽşđĽş
Oh, and Fitting 2 is on the way, just it contains spoilers that I donât want to reveal until they come up a few chapters later. ^^
Hehe, youâre close đ¤ Although Neteyamâs first real wet dream will be an expanded version of the hint mentioned in the Weave~~
Since weâre already diving so deep into depth psychology, I really want to thoroughly tell both of their healing journeys, which will include more 'delicate' topics as well. (True, I still need to gather a bit more courage for it as a beginner writer, but I think Iâll be brave and try it đ)
I loveddd reading from Neteyam's perspective, its really interesting to know what he is thinking.
Also I just love how you used his hair to symbolize him getting his shit back together.
Him having unbraided, tangled and disheveled hair because of the depressive state he was in and then him braiding only a few pieces of his hair to show his small progress. Loved it!
I just know he gonna add that kiss as a milestone in his songcord đđ¤
Ahh, Iâm so glad you liked his POV! Q_Q
I admit, writing him is always a bit of a struggle because I tend to get way too immersed in his character and basically experience his problems as my own - so I think the people around me will be relieved that weâre finally climbing out of this deep depression pit, and thereâll be room for some humor and fluff too xD
Only in moderation, of course. :<
Unfortunately, as it stands, this story is turning into a much slower burn than I originally planned, but Iâm enjoying learning about psychology alongside them and exploring trauma recovery therapies through them so much, that if I want to keep it realistic, there are still quite a few chapters left until the happy ending *^*
By the way, you were spot on about the hair symbolism! x3 I figured thatâs usually the detail people start with during the healing process, since itâs an easy change with visible results. Of course, a very long road still awaits our little blueberry, but Iâll do my best for him! Even if he won't be the same as he was at 15 (before the poor thing got shot), I hope by the end of the road he becomes the mighty warrior he wants to be. :3 (Sometimes he literally hijacks the keyboard and starts writing himself, so part of the outcome is a surprise even to me xD)
And yes, that kiss is going to haunt him for a long time, whether he likes it or not - well, at least until the second one overwrites it :'3
But anyway, as always, thank you so much for being here and supporting me with your comments and questions Q_Q Love you! <3
After reading all the comics and watching atwow movie again, I realized Nete is the only one who never got captured by RDA. Meanwhile his siblings have a streak đ
I think luck also played a part in this, considering that heâs not exactly the poster child for obedience either XD
I also think it helps that heâs got a bit more sense than all of his siblings combined ^^" :"D
(Never pause an Avatar movie on a Neteyam scene XDDD)
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(This was actually only supposed to be a third of the next chapter, but I felt it would be too long if I included it all at once, so enjoy! ^^)
Rating: 18+ / Mature/NSFW
Pairing: (VERY obsessed) Neteyam x Strong!Fem Human/Avatar Reader
Genre: Medium burn, Enemies-to-Lovers, Post-canon AU /Neteyam survived the shot and all the Sullys went home/
Synopsis: General Frances Ardmore asks her ambitious and strong-willed daughter, who stayed on Earth, to help convince Jake Sully to cooperate. If she succeeds, she promises to give her what she values most in life: a huge amount of money.
Neteyam feels completely tired of all the expectations and duties. He just wants to be happy, but he feels like no one understands him â until life brings him face to face with his greatest enemy, and he realizes they have much more in common than he ever thought.
Previous chapter Chapter index
Chapter 7 - Rise
"When, when the fire's at my feet again
And the vultures all start circling, they're whispering
"You're out of time", but still, I rise"
â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: Tamed by the Starlight :シďžâ§:シďžâ§
Neteyam
As though torn from a nightmare, his wounded heart thundered violently in his chest. Almost instinctively, his hand reached for the cloth he had cast aside during the night, pulling it over himself, clinging to it until the familiar sense of safety returned - the relief of hiding from the world.
Slowly, he managed to calm down. At least he no longer felt as though he were choking.
How pathetic.
How weakâŚ
And yet he could not bring himself to give up that piece of fabric.
Not yet.
His skin still burned; though his tanhĂs now glimmered only faintly in the dim light and his pulse gradually steadied, the memory of that heat lingered beneath the surface, haunting him.
The suffocating air of the cave, the pain of stone pressing into his back, the murderous gleam of four ice-blue eyes in the darkness - all of it pulsed through his veins as vividly as if he had truly been there only moments ago. He could still hear that metallic, unnatural shriek the creature had emitted when the strange light intensified - a sound not of this world, echoing inside his skull even now, a warning.
And what carved itself deepest into his bones-
His hand clenched at his heart as his tongue hesitantly traced his mouth, tasting something strange and metallic. Blood? No. This was something else. Something far more powerful. Something far more elementalâŚ
And then the sensation surged into full awareness.
Kiss.
The thought froze him solid, his stomach tightening painfully. Slowly - almost fearfully - he raised his hand, trembling fingers brushing his lower lip.
It still tingled, as if your mouth were still there - demanding, merciless - erasing every other rational thought from his mind.
He didnât understand. He simply didnât.
Only minutes earlier, you had wanted to kill him, watching him with murderous mockery in your eyes. Then suddenly you had dragged him close and kissed him as though you meant to destroy him. As though you meant to destroy the entire world.
That was⌠his very first kiss.
He had imagined it countless times before: soft, slow, tender⌠Perhaps after a shared flight, or a pleasant celebration, with a kind, warm-hearted girl he was close enough to stumble through the horribly awkward first time with. The beginning of a promise, with someone who might have become his lifelong mate, someone who truly wanted him, for whom it would have meant as much as it did to him.
Instead, it felt like an attack. Raw and violent, like an explosion that burned into his bones and ground his mind to dust. And worst of all - it came from the enemy. From a demon who saw him as nothing more than a pitiful coward who would rather choose an easy death than fight.
He couldnât truly name the emotions churning inside him.
Anger at being robbed of something he had always imagined as one of the defining moments of his life?
Or terror at the realization that deep below existed something that could threaten his people and their entire world - yet he was far more shaken by a fleeting, far too intimate touch?
He tried to focus on what truly mattered.
Txampayä⌠even in the ancient songs, the Deepseer had never been merely a predator. It was a beast - Eywaâs guardian -, one that destroyed anything threatening Eywaâs heart without hesitation or discrimination.
He could still feel the thunder of its massive steps beneath his feet, its colossal size crushing thick stone with every movement. The creature lingered in his mind now, a dark, bloodthirsty shadow, as though waiting to break free of its prison. The first time he had faced it - long ago on his Uniltaron - he had frozen in place, though at the time he had no idea what he was truly facing.
What could it want with him?! Had Eywa chosen him to protect Tsahelâva and the land that held the creature captive from the sky people? Him - who in his current state couldnât even lift a weapon?
And if the goal was to oppose the Sawtute, then why had Eywa sent that cursed woman with you?!
You - who were even more terrifying than the monster itself.
Deep lines etched his brow at the thought of your form rising before his eyes. He couldnât place you anywhere.
Once, perhaps, he would have hated you for what you did - for crossing boundaries he had never allowed anyone to cross willingly, boundaries he had guarded fiercely while secretly longing for them his entire life. Though if he was honest with himself: it wasnât as if there had ever been anyone else who had wanted him willingly. A failure - even in his best days nothing more than demon-blood beneath the illusion of perfection.
If there had ever been someone who might have found him attractive, they would have seen only the son of Toruk Makto - not Neteyam.
He had lost nothing.
As for your motive - surely it wasnât what drove people to do such things. Perhaps you had noticed something that had escaped his attention - considering that the illusion ended immediately afterward.
In the end, he concluded that you must have been seeking a tool, seizing the opportunity in a place where all other options had been stripped away. Somehow, it allowed you to endure Eywaâs incomprehensible - frankly absurd - trial. (Unlike him.)
But why a kiss?!
Again and again, Neteyam dragged his thumb across his mouth, as if he could erase the sensation - or perhaps, conversely, as if he needed to confirm that it had truly happened. That it hadnât been a simple dream.
No - his mind refused to accept it as such. It was far too complex, far too detailed.
Far too humiliating.
Who would even think of something like that in a life-or-death situation?! And with someone they had known for barely a dayâŚ
Though he was certain it hadnât meant nearly as much to you as it had to him.
Sky people - so far as he knew - did not place the same value on physical intimacy as Naâvi. They did not even choose a mate for life; they joined with one another as it pleased them, sometimes merely for amusement, only to seek another partner the next night.
The thought sent a sickening twist through his stomach.
And the most frightening part wasnât that what you had done repulsed him - but his own traitorous thoughts, causing a strange tightening in his chest.
All his life, he had been the one who had to remain strong in dire situations, the one who had to support others. Yet in that moment, within your small, fragile arms⌠there had been something paralyzingly sweet in the fact that though you lay utterly vulnerable beneath him, you still compelled him to surrender. To let your will sweep over him.
He remembered with painful clarity the moment you pulled him close - and instead of pushing you away, instead of turning aside in disgust, all he could think of was your scent. That foreign, unnaturally intense aroma that intoxicated him like some insidious poison; the damp softness of your hair beneath his palm - so impossibly silky compared to a Naâviâs, like holding lortsyal wings - and the press of your mouth, rough yet warmly soft, against his ownâŚ
His ears flattened against his skull as he exhaled sharply. The mere thought sent a shiver through him, his tail lashing irritably behind him. Anger, fear, and adrenaline fused into a hot, dark mass as realization crashed over him like icy rain:
If the vision hadnât ended - just a few more moments - and he might have kissed you back.
And if he had, even thinking it was an unforgivable sin. Yet it was more addictive than anything he had ever felt. Despite every effort of his agitated mind to resist, he imagined your grip loosening from strangulation into an embrace, your face flushing the color of dawn as you gasped for air - just before fixing him with that murderous gaze once more.
A strange nausea stirred within him - not from disgust, but from a sudden, sharp emptiness.Â
His body remembered yours. Remembered that strange, alien tension crackling between you. And now that it had become nothing more than imagination, its absence hurt almost physically.
As if you had poisoned him, and now his body cried out for the poison.
He hated your destructive, cruel kind, which should have made it logical to recoil from you as well. You were the enemy! Was he truly so desperately starved for - anyoneâs - attention?!
Not that his entire childhood hadnât been spent trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to impress his father, but he had never sunk this low, not even in the immediate aftermath of his injury.
He shook his head in confusion and sprang to his feet. He couldnât bear his own thoughts.
âSxawng!â he growled in frustration, cursing himself as he rose and strapped his knife across his chest over the cloth, as warriors did before a hunt.
He had to leave.
He had to feel alive! To prove that the woman had been wrong - that he was not a helpless, worthless thing who had given up long ago.
His gaze drifted to the corner of the marui, to his old bow, carved with his parents from the remains of the home tree destroyed before his birth. His mother had called it uniquely beautiful when it was finished, and everyone in the clan who saw it afterward praised his skill.
At first, he could barely draw it, but as his shoulders grew stronger (and his fatherâs training harsher), he quickly learned to wield it. In time, even the elders acknowledged that he was exceptionally gifted in archery, surpassing many adults.
By the time he joined his first hunt, he could aim with his eyes closed, guided purely by instinct, feeling the windâs strength in his body as though it obeyed his command, carrying the arrow exactly where he willed it. It had been an extension of his arm, his true strength - something he believed no one could ever take from him while he lived.
But after his injury⌠he hadnât touched it for years.
It leaned against the woven wall like an abandoned, forgotten friend; the finely polished wood he had once chosen together with his father now looked dull in the half-light.
Neteyam stepped toward it, then stopped. His hand curled into a fist.
Each time he looked at the weapon now, he no longer thought of the glory of the hunt or the clanâs praise - but of sudden, searing pain. The sound of the bullet striking. Helplessness. His own blood clouding the saltwater around him.
âIf you give up on your life this easily, donât be surprised when even your precious goddess turns her back on youâ
The memory of your voice cut into his mind like a blade, slicing through the fog of self-pity.
âIf you want to die, do it outside the cave like a cowardly wormâ
The word coward echoed through his soul.Â
There was no compassion in it, none of the suffocating caution his family and clan had shown him for years, only raw, merciless judgment.
And yet-
His jaw tightened sharply as something else replaced the constant ache in his chest.
Anger. Burning, searing anger at you for speaking to him that way - and even greater anger at himself, because deep down he knew you were right.
Right now, he was nothing more than a wounded, defiant child crouched in a corner, letting a sawtute woman lecture him about a life Eywa had returned to him - only for him to let it pass by, aimless and unused.
He felt as though he were suffocating. The maruiâs walls suddenly seemed too narrow, the air stale, as if his own bitterness had poisoned it.
He had to get out.
He sprang up and all but fled into the cool dawn mist. The earth beneath his feet yielded softly, greeting him like an old friend, just as it had in childhood, on mornings like this, when he and Kiri and Loâak could hardly wait for the day to begin so they could play freely while their parents prepared breakfast.
It had been his responsibility to keep his over-energetic younger brother from wandering too far, to keep him near the kelku, even when Loâak tried every imaginable method to drag them into his reckless games.
More than once, he had had to haul the idiot out of the nearby reservoir when he overestimated his height - and his swimming ability - nearly drowning them both at the age of six.
The old memories of his family eased his heart somewhat as he reached the edge of the camp, where rainwater had collected in a natural rocky basin.
Mist from the Hallelujah Mountains lay thick across the land, hiding the depths beneath the floating rocks. Neteyam sank to his knees, plunged both hands into the ice-cold water, and mercilessly splashed it over his face.
The mountain waterâs freezing touch was shocking, yet sobering. As the ripples slowly stilled and the surface smoothed once more, Neteyam looked into the waterâs mirror.
A stranger stared back at him.
He recoiled at the sight. His hair long left unbraided, hanging loose like that of mourners or those who had surrendered, fell in dull, tangled clumps over his shoulders and into his face, obscuring his features. His skin appeared pale, almost gray in the filtered dawn light, and deep, dark circles shadowed his eyes, as if his soul were slowly draining away.
This was not the face of a warrior, nor the face of the one he had always dreamed of becoming.
This was the face of a dead man who had given up.
âIt wouldnât be worth the effort to kill someone whoâs already dead.â
Only now did your words reveal their full meaning. Neteyam stared at his reflection in disgust, his heart aching behind the wound as though it were still bleeding.
You were right.
He was a wreck, drifting like a shadow among the living, aimlessly waiting for everything to finally end. He wouldnât even have mourned himself.
âThis isnât me,â he whispered, his voice deep and hoarse with anger and shame.
With a sudden motion, he drove his fist into his reflection, sending water splashing across the pale gray rocks, shattering his features into a thousand trembling ripples.
He couldnât remain like this. He couldnât look like this! If he met you again - and he would - he couldnât let you see him this way! He would not grant you the satisfaction of being right.
With wet hands, he reached for his hair, fingers long idle now moved by memory, roughly separating the long, midnight-black strands.
Almost obsessively, guided by old habit, he began forming neat, thin braids - braids he once undid and redid every single morning just to make them perfect.
His scalp pulled tight; the pain was sharp and welcome - real. Working strand by strand along his hairline, he didnât braid it all, leaving most of it to fall freely down his back - wild and untamed, as his soul now felt, but he freed his face.
His gaze was visible again.
Even this small change altered his reflection as the water smoothed once more. The pallor remained, but his eyesâŚ
The golden pair was no longer dull. Now they were sharp, hard as a finely honed blade.
âProve that youâre more than this.â
The mere thought of your voice poured oil onto the fire in his soul.
âYouâll see,â he growled at the water, though the words were meant for you. For you, the demon haunting his thoughts. âI am not dead!â
He rose abruptly and spun on his heel. Wet strands snapped against his back, alive with every movement.
He stormed back into his marui and did not hesitate this time. He went straight to his bow and seized it, giving himself no time to doubt.
The wood was cool and solid in his grip, its weight familiar, like he had never set it down, as though it had only been yesterday he last hunted with it.
Nothing happened. No pain flared.Â
His heart beat fast, but steady, in his chest.
The image of the sea of blood faded behind the red fog of defiance. He stood there with the weapon in his hand, his muscles remembering the motion of the draw. He grabbed his quiver, slung it over his shoulder beside the fresh braids, and stepped out into the morning light.
â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: Tamed by the Starlight :シďžâ§:シďžâ§
I admit I was scared to start it because I thought it would be a regular fanfiction where they aren't even enemies just a little bit mean to each other but what you wrote is incredible! It's rare to find a fanfic with such emotional depth, and I'm in love with your Neteyam!!! HE NEEDS A HUG I hope he can heal from his trauma in the end (or both of them) and they will be very much in love, I can't wait for them to get there like in the spin-offs!!
Could you write a few more spoilers? I can't wait for the next chapter.
You have no idea how happy this comment makes me! QAQ
Thank you for trusting the process even though it started out scary! đ I agree, finding fics with that real emotional weight is so special, and Iâm trying my best to do justice to Neteyamâs character. :'< He deserved so much more better!
Don't worry, the healing era is coming soon! I'm a sucker for a happy ending too. >_< I can't spoil exactly how they get there, but the angst is definitely building up to something beautiful 𼰠- but I'm actually working on some ficlet now, 2 nsfw and a domestic fluff xD ~
I want this cute little smile for him 24/7 đĽšđĽšđĽš
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It's coming back soon, just doing some touch-ups. I used a mouse to Photoshop this ages ago, so itâs a bit rough around the edges in some places đ đ¤Ł