Chapter Text
“Wait...” Spider tilted his head sharply, his fingers clenching the woven fibres of the brown marui. Sweat slicked his neck—gaunt and fragile when compared to a Na’vi’s—and bled into the fading blue paint on his chest, most of which had already been scrubbed away by the sea.
“Gentle!”
“Don’t be such a baby, Monkey Boy,” Kiri said, clicking her tongue. She cast a sidelong glance at the older boy, yet barely reached her shoulder in height.
In the wake of the great naval battle against the Sky People and Spider’s biological father, a fragile peace had returned to the Sully family. They hunted, they healed, and they sang with the creatures of Pandora Ocean.
Above them, the stars burned graceful as always.
But for Spider, grace was a foreign concept. He had always been an outcast on Pandora. In the high forests, he was despised as the son of a monster because of his notorious Na'vi killer father; he had painted himself blue, yet the colour never reached his soul in the eyes of the Na'vi. And despite his unwavering loyalty, Neytiri had never loved him as her own, and Neteyam had never truly treated him as a blood sibling*.
*Avatar: The High Ground
The forest Omaticaya clan had merely endured him, out of respect for Jake Sully, the Toruk Makto, and Great Mother Eywa's guidance to offer shelter. The Metkayina, however, were not so patient. They had not seen the fall of Hell’s Gate; they only saw a five-fingered freak who looked like the demons that brought fire and death to their shores. How could they spare the boy who had done nothing to atone for the blood on his father’s hands?
The first month had been a nightmare.
Neytiri and Ronal—two mothers bound by shared grief—had reached a terrifying accord regarding his fate. Their eyes, one pair gold and the other sea-green, were filled with a loathing that hit Spider like crashing waves. One had lost a son; the other, a spirit sister and a calf. To keep a human, the very boy who had dragged the breathing body of Miles Quaritch from the wreckage of the Sea Dragon, was a burden they would not bear.
“Execute him,” the Princess of the Forest growled.
Spider knelt upon the cold, wet rocks, Neytiri’s words cutting deeper than any blade.
“He brings only ruin to the Metkayina,” Ronal agreed. She spoke in her indigenous tongue, knowing well that the boy understood every word. Precisely so. “Your human blood is a curse. You are the seed of a demon who wears a stolen skin. You speak our tongue, but you will never see us. You have no Tsaheylu. Eywa will never bless you.”
She turned to her husband, Tonowari. “He is bad luck. Banish him. Offer his soul to the Sea.”
“No!” Kiri screamed, lunging forward before Jake caught her. She bared her fangs at her father, her voice trembling. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt Spider!”
“Ma, Spider is my brother!” Lo’ak also protested.
From behind his exopack, Spider looked at his friends and offered a small, sad smile. Even amidst the crushing weight of his own guilt, he had Kiri and Lo'ak.
“Neytiri, Ronal, ” Jake said, his voice low as he lowered his head in a respectful 'I See You' gesture before looking at Tonowari. “Execution is not the answer. Spider is human, yes, but he is a brave and truthful fighter. He kept our plans secret. He protected my children. He saved my daughter Kiri.” Jake paused, his eyes hardening with pragmatism. “And he is our only leverage. If the Sky People return, he is the bridge for negotiation.”
Tonowari looked down at the small, kneeling figure.
“But he is useless,” the Olo'eyktan said slowly. “His body is small and fragile. He cannot ride an ilu. He belongs in the metal boxes of his kin, not among the People.”
Spider struggled to his feet, his chest heaving.
“No!” He looked up at the leader who towered over him. “I belong here,” he said in fluent, defiant Na’vi. “I can cook. I can heal. I can learn to weave and hunt the tides... I am a Sully.” He looked to Kiri and Lo’ak, then back to Jake. “I stay with my family.”
“Do not claim that name. You are not a Sully,” Neytiri hissed. In a flash of blue movement, she seized him by the throat with one hand, pressing her fangs toward his neck. The fire in her golden eyes was blinding. “You will never be.”
“Ma!” Lo’ak moved quickly, stepping between his mother and Spider. “Spider is not Neteyam...but he is my brother. He is Kiri and Tuk’s brother. We cannot lose another sibling!”
The mother who had so recently buried her firstborn froze. Slowly, her grip loosened, and she lowered Spider back onto the reef.
She looked at her children—one was the boy’s best friend, the other had also followed in her sister’s footsteps, forging a friendship that transcends species.
Neytiri sighed.
She, more than anyone, knew what it meant to love a stranger against the will of her people. Her children, beautiful, strong, and brave children, were the living proof that such a love could fight heavy prejudice.
“We will keep him,” Jake said firmly to the Metkayina leaders. “We will teach him as you taught us. We will be his Tsaheylu to Eywa.”
Kiri nodded, her eyes bright with relief. And Lo’ak, reaching out a hand, pulled the human boy into a firm embrace.
“So... this time,” Kiri murmured, carefully applying crushed herbs to Spider’s chest. A jagged scar ran from his collarbone down to his abdomen. Though the wound had closed, the flesh was still angry—a patchwork of dark purple and raw pink.
Humans lacked the resilient, thick skin of the Na’vi, and they certainly lacked their fast healing ability. If one looked closely, the faint, silver line of the mark Neytiri had left a year ago was still visible beneath the new wound.
Spider turned his head away.
“I won’t laugh at you, you know,” Kiri said softly. Her nimble fingers rubbed the cool ointment into his skin with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Spider winced, his body tensing under her touch.“Lo’ak had much worse.”
A light smile touched Spider’s lips. “Yeah, he told me. Aonung and his friends screwed him up bad.”
“You should see his face when he talks about it... Spider, you’re a fast learner of the sign language. You also don’t need to worry about changing breath under the water.”
“I try,” Spider whispered, looking down at his exposed torso.
He felt small.
Fragile.
He had been brave enough to claim a banshee in the floating mountains, but here, beneath the waves, even taming an ilu felt like a battle he was destined to lose.
Kiri leaned in, her shadow falling over him, and dropped a kiss on her brother's wound. Na’vi saliva was a natural antiseptic, a gift from Eywa to speed the knitting of flesh.
Spider whimpered, his hands trembling on Kiri’s shoulders.
“You will succeed, Monkey Boy. Just give yourself time.”
“Kiri,” Spider’s face burned beneath the shield of his exopack. “Stop. People will see.”
Kiri ignored him, her arms sliding around his waist to pull him flush against her. Her large Na'vi frame enveloped him like a warm, living blanket, forcing him to meet her glowing golden eyes.
Spider parted his lips to protest, but a shudder racked his frame as Kiri’s rough feline tongue licked his wound again.
"...Mm!"
“Spider, your body...” Kiri’s voice was a low hum. She traced the line of his ribs, her touch trailing down to the base of the scar. “It is so different. Soft. Pretty.”
Like her biological mother, Grace, Kiri was mesmerized by the biological wonders of planet Pandora. The terrestrial, the flying, and the water creatures all shared Eywa's heartbeat...And to her, Spider wasn’t a "demon-blooded" outcast. Beyond the mutual pain of orphanhood, Kiri understood Spider no differently than appreciating booming flowers.
This is why she was also the first to accept Miles Socorro as a Sully.
“I’m not pretty,” Spider gasped, his pride flickering even as his strength failed. “Pretty is for girls,” he switched to English to speak the bias of humankind, “You should listen to your older brother. Stop.”
Kiri clicked her tongue, a playful defiance in her eyes. She wasn't the obedient Sully kid.
Her hand, which could easily cup Spider's entire face, pulled the other’s breathing mask up. She pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring his wide-eyed shock, while her other hand roamed his chest, sparking a heat that made his head spin.
“You are pretty,” Kiri whispered against his skin and cupped Spider’s flushed cheeks gently between warm breaths. “Like a spinning woodsprite floating in a sunbeam.”
“Huh?”
Kiri’s hand moved to his thigh, the pink human skin standing out starkly against her blue fingers. On the planet of Pandora, Spider knew that his body, skin, and hair were otherworldly - Ugly and alien.
But under Kiri’s gaze, he felt seen. Even if it felt like being a pet she was determined to groom, he couldn't pull away.
“Kiri!” Spider finally choked out, feebly pushing at her hand. “You know Mrs. Sully will skin me if she finds out!”
Kiri let out a low grunt of amusement.
“You said the same thing back in the forest.”
“Um,” Spider’s head rolled back. His resolve crumbled as she pressed her face to his neck. His protests grew faint, his fingers tangling in her long, dark hair. “That was for...to...”
“To become a Na’vi,” she murmured, her touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. She teased the sensitive skin of his chest until he broke into shattered moans. “And so is this.”
Kiri pushed Spider’s thighs further apart. The human boy’s genital throbbed beneath the black-green fabric, and the wet tip was nowhere to hide.
Kiri’s eyes darkened with a predator’s focus.
“Tsmukan, your body is...” Kiri pointed at Spider’s painfully hard penis, “leaking all the time.”
“N-no Kiri!”
Spider felt as though he were suffocating, but the lack of oxygen only made the pleasure more absolute. At seventeen, he was no match for her strength or her will.
He wrinkled his sour nose and arched his back, searching for a kiss, for air, for a way to ground himself, but Kiri wouldn't give up teasing.
“Spider,” Kiri whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his groin. “Do you remember when Lo’ak and I made you pass out back in the high trees?”
Spider let out a ragged gasp. “You two assholes...I almost fell off the tree that time...mm!”
“Ma won’t be mad. As long as it isn't the real bond, she takes it as fooling around.” Kiri kissed the scar Neytiri had given him - the one that brought back her life - then pressed her lips on the human boy’s again.
Spider was a riot of pink and red, his body shaking with overstimulation. He squinted through tears as Kiri shoved her fingers into his mouth. Her fingers exploring, forcing him to swallow down his own saliva.
Kiri adores foreplay.
Lo’ak, on the other hand, is always primal and to the fucking. He would bite Spider’s thighs, the only place he could keep some privacy, and shove his dick into the human boy’s ass, pushing through Spider’s shallow prostate and then some more.
On Pandora, age was a secondary concept. Spider was older in years, but the Sully siblings were giants in spirit and strength, and most importantly, their emotions were more profound after bonding with the tree of souls.
They carry the happiness, the tears, and the deaths throughout Na’vi history. The Great Mother Eywa connects one and everyone on Pandora, and so is their love shared.
To be loyal to the Na’vi, Spider had to be bonded to them, heart and soul.
“Please. I can't...”
Spider begged, the word a slurred mess. He wanted the orgasm that only they could give him—the electrifying shiver that made his spine feel like it was made of stars.
The hybrid girl nodded. She peeled away Spider's loincloth, her saliva-wet fingers circling the human boy’s hole until Spider hit her arm in anger.
“You are the nicer one...Kiri, what happened to my kind little sister?”
Spider winced and looked down after the hybrid girl pushed a finger into his warmer body, exhaling as the hard finger teased his prostate.
“Every Na’vi woman is a warrior,” Kiri said, her voice dropping to a growl. Kiri's finger pushed upward against the soft spot, thrusting mercilessly. Her other hand held Spider’s ankles, lifting the legs and pressing them to the boy’s face, “I’m just not as reckless as Lo'ak.”
“Shit.” Spider’s moan was desperate.
His penis slipped out and jumped in front of him. Pleasure climbed up his spine with shame and finally consumed the human boy when Kiri put her second finger in.
The world shattered. A wave of white-hot crashed over him, splattering on his tanned abs, chest, and onto his pretty face, leaving him disoriented.
Spider’s thighs shook uncontrollably, his breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. As he slowly regained his senses, he adjusted his mask, certain that the lightheadedness had only made the climax more devastating.
“You're, Kiri, you're killing me,” Spider managed to mutter. His body kept squeezing those blue fingers, and all the saliva used to lubricate was now foaming.
“Did you like it?” Kiri put his legs down and laughed when she saw how messy the boy was.
Spider's now soft penis lay on his thigh, still leaking.
“Umm, yeah,” Spider whispered, biting his lip before meeting her gaze again. The embarrassment was there, “I want the Tsaheylu...your Tsaheylu...”
Kiri’s pupils dilated. Her tail swept across his legs like a hunting cat.
She leaned down, her neural queues—the braids of her hair—beginning to glow with a faint, bioluminescent light. She pressed them against his skin, against the points of his body where the nerves were most exposed.
“hurts,” Spider hissed as he lifted his chest and looked at the glowing light. The electric touches travelled from Kiri's queues to his body, but there was a strange calmness along with the pain.
Eywa's heartbeat lifted Spider up and down as the human boy saw a golden place where the white flashed.
The light guided him, and there, he saw the deceased Na'vi elders, and then, a figure taller and more radiant than the rest. The vision lingered, a peaceful goodbye that transcended the physical world, until the golden light faded back into Kiri’s eyes.
“Spider,” the other held up his face with worry, “Are you with me?”
“…I saw Neteyam.”
Kiri nodded slowly, a tear pricking her eye.
She leaned down and kissed the plastic of the breathing mask. “Next time you ride my ilu, they will know you have walked among the souls of the ocean.”