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Gentle Hands

So'lek x fem!avatar driver reader inspired by Tsumuke written by @lvlypinkesworld

Part 12 > Part 13 > Part 13.5

Hearts Cannot Lie

Louis De Luca surfaced from unconsciousness slowly. Pain arrived first. A deep ache radiating through his ribs and shoulder. Then came the strange sensation of warmth. Soft light. Voices somewhere nearby.

For one glorious, delirious moment he genuinely thought he'd died. The last thing he remembered was fire. Smoke. The Scorpion going down.

Then that giant blue alien dragging him from the wreckage.

So naturally his first thought upon opening his eyes was—Well... heaven is nicer than I expected.

An angel hovered above him. Golden light from the resistance medbay lamps framed her features. Soft eyes focused intently on a monitor. Hair falling forward slightly as she adjusted something beside his bed.

Louis stared.

The angel frowned at a scanner. Made a note. Checked his IV. Then glanced down. Their eyes met.

The angel blinked once. "Oh." That was disappointingly un-angelic.  "You are awake." Her voice was quiet. Almost startlingly quiet. Not cold. Just reserved.

Louis opened his mouth. Nothing came out except a croak.

The angel immediately held a cup toward him. "Small sips."

He obeyed.

Because she sounded like she expected people to obey. Not demanding. Just matter of fact.

Louis drank. The water helped. A little.

Then she checked the bandages around his shoulder. Looked at a monitor. Made another note.

And before Louis could think of a single clever thing to say—

She nodded to herself. "Good."

Then she turned And left. Just... Left. Louis stared after her.

A few moments later another figure walked over. Another woman carrying a medical tablet. "Well." She looked relieved. "That is a good sign."

Louis blinked. "Who..." His voice still sounded awful.

The woman smiled slightly. "I'm Nalin. Doctor around here."

Louis nodded weakly. Then pointed vaguely toward the door. "The angel."

Nalin stared. "The what?"

"Who was that? The one who was just here."

Realization dawned. "Oh." Nalin snorted softly. "That was (Y/n)."

Louis looked toward the door again. "(Y/n)."

"Avatar driver. Zoologist. Part-time medic. Full-time workaholic."

Louis blinked. "Medic?"

Nalin laughed. "Not officially. But she has a habit of collecting medical knowledge."

Louis frowned slightly. "She saved me?"

Nalin pulled over a chair. "You were in rough shape. The Scorpion crash nearly killed you."

Louis absorbed that quietly. Fragments of memory returning. The smoke. The impact. The panic. Then that enormous blue alien hauling him bodily from the wreckage. "Big blue guy?"

Nalin immediately knew who he meant. "Tamtey.”

"Yeah. He got you out."

Louis nodded slowly. Then glanced toward the closed door again. "And her?"

Nalin smiled faintly. "She helped stabilize you."

Louis expected some heroic story.

Instead Nalin shrugged. "Checked your injuries. Started treatment. Saved your life. Then immediately returned to whatever research she was working on."

That sounded oddly anticlimactic. "That's it?"

"Pretty much."

Louis stared. "She didn't even introduce herself."

"That sounds like (Y/n)."

Nalin leaned back in her chair. "She isn't great with new people. Or old people. Or people in general."

Louis laughed weakly despite the pain. Then his gaze drifted toward the entrance once more. The brief interaction replaying in his head. The quiet voice. The way she'd simply confirmed he wasn't dying and then vanished back to work. No grand speech. No dramatic introduction. No expectation of thanks. Just helping because someone needed help.

Then moving on.

Strange. For someone he'd only seen for perhaps thirty seconds—She seemed oddly memorable.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the resistance base, completely unaware she had become the subject of conversation, (Y/n) sat surrounded by notebooks and samples in her makeshift lab.

Perfectly content.

Because as far as she was concerned— The patient was stable. Which meant she could get back to work.

(Y/n) sat in the middle of what had gradually become her temporary workspace. Scraps of fabric. Needles. Tools. Several pieces of So'lek's gear spread across the table in front of her. Right next to her chemistry equipment. One of his metal vests sat partially disassembled while she repaired worn straps and reinforced sections that had started fraying from years of use. Beside it lay several rifle slings she'd quietly confiscated after deciding they were falling apart.

A rolling chair allowed her to glide between workstations without having to stand every few minutes.

Officially she was still taking it easy.

Unofficially she had simply found a different way to stay busy.

Conversations drifted through the resistance base around her. People moving. Equipment humming. The normal sounds of daily life.

Nearby Raj was being introduced to one of the newest arrivals to the resistance.

Louis. The recently defected rda grunt.

(Y/n) paid little attention. Not out of rudeness. But because was currently concentrating on stitching a particularly stubborn tear in one of So'lek's straps when footsteps stopped beside her workspace.

"And this is (Y/n)," Priya said.

Louis glanced over. She looked exactly as he'd remembered. Only this time she wasn't hovering over him while he was half dead. She was seated in a rolling chair surrounded by equipment, entirely focused on her work.

"You've already met her."

"She's one of the medics around here, well not just a medic she does lots of things."

(Y/n) glanced up briefly. Nodded once. Then immediately returned to sewing.

Priya sighed. "Oh, come on."

(Y/n) didn't look up.

"He's new.  Please at least say hello."

The needle paused.

(Y/n) looked up. "Hello." Then she immediately returned to repairing the vest.

Louis stared at her curiously.

Priya pinched the bridge of her nose. "(y/n).”

“I said hello."

"That’s not even three whole words."

"I am exceeding expectations, you gave him the rundown of what I do, what else do you want me to say?"

Louis couldn't help it. A small laugh escaped him.

The comment earned him the briefest hint of amusement from (Y/n) before she returned to work.

Priya gestured toward the workspace. "This is actually unusual."

"It is?"

Priya nodded. "(Y/n) is usually somewhere in the forest tending to sick or injured animals. I genuinely cannot remember the last time she spent this much time inside base."

That earned Priya a flat look. (Y/n) didn't even stop sewing. Just glanced at her. Then went back to work.

Priya smiled innocently.

Then something changed.

Louis noticed it immediately.

Because the woman who had barely acknowledged their existence suddenly brightened.

The doors at the far end of the base opened and closed. Footsteps followed.

(Y/n)'s entire expression softened.

Louis glanced toward the corridor.

A few moments later So'lek rounded the corner. The large Na'vi warrior immediately spotted them. Or rather— He immediately spotted her.

"Ah." Priya grinned. "Perfect timing."

She motioned Louis forward.

"So'lek, come meet Louis."

The warrior's attention shifted away from (Y/n) long enough to acknowledge him.

 "He's new." Priya gestured to So’lek— "This is So'lek. One of our Navi allies."

Louis offered a nod.

So'lek returned one. Brief. Polite.

Then immediately walked around them. Straight toward (Y/n).

Louis watched the entire interaction carefully. The warrior stopped beside her workspace. Looked over the gear spread across the table. Then looked down at her.

And something in his expression changed. Softened. Not much. Just enough to be difference to his normal stiff look.  The sort of look people only gave someone they deeply cared about. "You are meant to be resting."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes immediately. "I am sitting down."

"You are working."

"I am repairing your equipment."

"You are still working."

"It does not count."

"It counts."

"It does not."

"It does."

Louis hid his reaction well. Years in the military had taught him that. But he saw it. The way her shoulders relaxed around him.

The way his attention remained fixed on her. The ease between them.

And immediately a single thought crossed his mind. Please don't tell me they're together.

Because if they weren't— They were certainly heading in that direction.

Priya noticed Louis watching. Then she grabbed his shoulder. "Come on."

Louis blinked. "What?"

"There's still people to meet."

He cast one last glance back.

Priya practically dragged Louis away. Leaving the two of them behind. Still bickering. Still entirely focused on each other.

So'lek looked over the vest spread across the table, his fingers brushing over one of the freshly repaired straps. The stitching was neat. Careful. Strong. Much better than his own repairs usually were.

"Has Alma left you alone today?" he asked quietly.

(Y/n) glanced up from where she was trimming a loose thread. "Yes." The answer came easily enough. "I've just been here, being a busy."

Something in his chest eased slightly. Good. He had spent most of the morning wondering if Alma would seek her out again. Wondering if he'd return to find her retreating into herself once more. Instead, she'd spent the day surrounded by thread, tools. His gaze drifted over the equipment. "You did not need to mend these for me."

(Y/n) shrugged. "I know. But I wanted to help you out." Her fingers continued working while she spoke. "You're always busy." The next stitch. "Taking care of me." Another stitch. "Patrolling." A knot tied off. "Taking down RDA bases." Only then did she glance up at him. A small smile appearing. "It's the least I can do."

For a moment So'lek simply looked at her. Sweet. Kind. Always finding ways to help others. Even when she herself had barely recovered.

The smile that appeared on his face was soft enough that Louis, watching from across the room, nearly walked into a table.

Fortunately, Priya redirected him before he could embarrass himself.

Back at the workstation, (Y/n) brightened suddenly. "Oh. I do have good news."

So'lek's attention returned fully to her. "What is it?"

"Nalin says by the end of the week I should be able to link again."

The excitement in her voice was immediate. "Genuinely link. Not just a few minutes. I can go back to the sanctuary." Her smile widened. "Get back to work."

So'lek sighed. The last part was exactly what he'd expected. Yet he found himself smiling anyway because he knew what she truly meant. Back to the creatures she'd worried about endlessly from inside the base.

"You have been taking Ulrr out to forage?" She asked.

"Yes."

"And the pups?"

"The pups are learning scents. They are also learning how to tear open carcasses without assistance."

"They would have enjoyed that lesson."

"Yes, they did."

Her expression softened. Because she'd been worried. Worried about Ulrr. Worried about the pups. Worried about all the creatures she'd been forced to leave behind.

"I really cannot thank you enough." The sincerity in her voice made him look away briefly. As though embarrassed by the gratitude.

He'd merely done what needed doing.

The same way she always did.

Then he held out a hand. "Come."

(Y/n) blinked. "Where are we going?"

"Out of here."

She looked around the base. Then back at him. "What is wrong with here?"

"You have spent the entire day inside."

"I have a chair."

"You need sunlight."

She looked genuinely unconvinced. "I have lamps."

So'lek stared at her.

(Y/n) sighed. "Damn it."

A small victory. The warrior's mouth twitched. Then softened. "A walk in the sunlight."

She looked down at the half-finished repairs. Then at him. Then at the doorway. Followed him.

The smile that crossed his face afterward was worth every moment of stubborn resistance.

Louis was beginning to develop a problem. Specifically— Every person he asked seemed determined to confirm his worst suspicions. After watching So'lek all but abandon a conversation to immediately go check on (Y/n), Louis had decided further investigation was necessary.

Purely professional investigation. Absolutely nothing else.

His first victim was Jin. The man was repairing equipment when Louis approached. "So."

Jin glanced up.

"What's the deal with big blue and (Y/n)?"

Jin blinked. Then immediately laughed. "Big blue?"

"The giant Na'vi."

"Oh. So’lek" Jin shrugged. "I don't know."

That was not the answer Louis expected. "You don't?"

"No." Jin went back to tightening a bolt. "(Y/n) is pretty quiet. Mostly keeps to herself. But she talks to the Sarentu. And So'lek."

"Honestly, if you want answers, ask them."

Louis did not particularly want to ask So'lek. That sounded dangerous. So he moved on. His next target was Anqa. She was organizing supplies when he found her. "Question."

Anqa immediately looked wary. "That usually means trouble."

"What's going on between So'lek and (Y/n)?"

Anqa froze. Then smiled. A knowing smile.

Louis already disliked it.

"I try not to pry." That was not a denial. "But?" Anqa's smile widened. "But everyone can tell they're sweet on each other."

Louis maintained a perfectly neutral expression. Internally however— How? How had the sweet quiet angel who saved his life ended up attached to a giant blue warrior? The math wasn't mathing. At all. "Everyone?"

Anqa nodded. "Everyone."

Louis frowned. "They aren't together?"

Anqa laughed. "They certainly aren't acting like strangers."

Louis immediately thought about the way So'lek looked at her. The way she visibly brightened when he walked into a room. The way he'd practically hovered around her since arriving. His neutral expression became significantly more strained.

"Maybe they're just friends."

Anqa's smile somehow became even more knowing. "Oh I think they’re past that stage." That response filled Louis with dread.

A short time later he found himself sitting beside Raj. "Please tell me they're not together."

Raj looked up from his work. "Who?"

"So'lek and (Y/n)."

Raj immediately started laughing.

Louis felt betrayed. "That's not an answer."

Raj wiped his eyes. "No. They aren't together."

Relief. Sweet relief.

Then Raj continued. "Yet."

The relief died instantly.

Raj grinned. "They're hopeless."

Louis groaned. This was becoming a nightmare. “Thanks Raj.”

Louis leaned back against a wall and stared at the ceiling. There had to be somebody reasonable around here. Somebody who would tell him everyone was reading too much into things.

Unfortunately—The next person he decided to ask was Tamtey. Which was about to make everything significantly worse. Louis eventually found Tamtey near one of the landing platforms tending to his ikran's harness. He looked up as Louis approached. "Settling in alright?"

"Yeah." Louis leaned casually against one of the supports. At least casually enough that he hoped it looked natural.

There was a brief silence. Then he asked "So what's going on between So'lek and (Y/n)?"

Tamtey immediately stopped what he was doing.Slowly. Very slowly. He looked up. Then glanced around. Then back at Louis. The expression alone made Louis nervous. "You did not hear this from me because (y/n) may poison my tea from gossiping.”

Louis immediately leaned in.

Tamtey lowered his voice dramatically despite nobody being remotely nearby. "They have not made anything official."

Louis felt a small amount of relief.

Then Tamtey continued. "(Y/n) would probably die of embarrassment if anyone actually said it aloud."

The relief disappeared.

"But..." His grin widened. "Yeah. "They are basically joined at the hip."

Louis sighed. Of course. Of course that was the answer.

Tamtey chuckled. "You should have seen So'lek after her seizure."

Louis noticed the way the warrior's expression softened slightly.

"He was miserable."

"And her?" Tamtey laughed. "She pretends she is subtle but anyone with eyes can see her adorable smile."

The answer told Louis everything. Because everyone else had apparently reached the same conclusion. Neither of them had officially said anything.

But everyone knew. Everyone.

Tamtey studied him curiously. "Why the interest?"

Louis immediately straightened. "Oh. Uh."

A perfectly reasonable explanation needed to be found immediately.

"It's just..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's kind of the only person I haven't really talked to since arriving. I wanted to get to know her better.”

Which was technically true.

Tamtey nodded immediately. "Oh."

That explanation made complete sense to him. No suspicion whatsoever. "Yeah, she's like that."

Louis blinked. "Like what?"

"Quiet."

Tamtey shrugged. "If she doesn't know someone she usually keeps to herself. Trust me she all but told me to go away when we first met."

"So don’t sweat it."

"She'll talk to you eventually."

"Probably."

The confidence on that last word was not particularly reassuring.

Tamtey returned to adjusting the harness.

"Usually people just sort of..."He gestured vaguely. “...end up around her."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Tamtey grinned. "One day you don't know her."

"The next day you're drinking tea while she explains medicinal plants and somehow you've become friends."

Louis found himself smiling despite himself. That sounded oddly believable.

"Give it time." Tamtey tightened one final strap. "If she likes you she'll start talking."

"And if she doesn't?"

Tamtey thought about it. "Then you'll get a lot of 'hello' and three-word conversations."

Louis winced. That sounded familiar.

Tamtey laughed. " You're currently getting three-word conversations."

"That obvious?"

"Very."

Tamtey clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. She just needs time to warm up to you, she’s really nice.”

He hoped Tamtey was right, maybe he needed to try getting her to talk about her interests, open up.

That would work… right?

(Y/n) hated admitting it. Absolutely hated it. Because So'lek had been right.

The walk had helped. The fresh air. The sunlight filtering through the canopy. The distant sounds of the forest.

The absence of walls.

It felt good. Really good.

Unfortunately she would never tell him that. Not if she wanted to preserve even a shred of dignity.

So she walked beside him through the forest, hands tucked into her pockets, enjoying herself considerably more than she intended.

Meanwhile So'lek was driving her insane. The warrior's eyes never stopped moving. Scanning. Checking. Watching.

Every sound. Every shadow. Every movement.

Nothing escaped his attention.

At one point he stopped entirely because a branch snapped somewhere in the distance.

(Y/n) nearly walked into him. "What?"

He listened. The forest fell silent.

Nothing happened.

Then they continued walking.

Three minutes later he did it again.

(Y/n) sighed dramatically."You know there is nothing out here that is going to jump me."

His eyes never left the treeline. "You cannot be sure of that."

"I can."

"No."

"Yes."

Finally he looked down at her. "No."

The answer came with enough conviction that she almost laughed. "Why are you like this?"

"You recently had a seizure."

"That was weeks ago."

"You were unconscious."

"I woke up."

"You almost died."

"I did not."

His stare suggested that was entirely beside the point.

(Y/n) groaned. "There are no thanator dens nearby."

He was silent

"No RDA patrol routes."

Still silent.

"No hostile clans."

Still silence.

She pointed around them. "The most dangerous thing out here is probably you."

That earned a look. A very unimpressed look.

"I am serious."

"So am I."

(Y/n) threw her hands into the air. "You can relax."

So'lek genuinely did not think he could. Not anymore. Because every time he looked at her in this body he was reminded how fragile it was. How small she was. How easily injured.

The realization never quite left him.

Not after the seizure. Not after reading what was  in those old notebooks. Not after seeing her cry.

And perhaps worst of all— He knew exactly how vulnerable humans could be.

Because once upon a time he had killed many of her kind. Seen what bullets did. Seen how easily bones broke. Seen how quickly a human life could end.

He knew exactly how durable Na'vi were. And exactly how durable humans were not.

The comparison haunted him.

Because even something as simple as the air around them reminded him that she was constantly in danger.

The mask resting over her face. One piece of damaged equipment. One accident. One mistake.

And suddenly the very air became dangerous.

The thought alone made his stomach tighten.

Meanwhile (Y/n) remained blissfully unaware of the spiraling protectiveness happening beside her.

"I am safe." She nudged his arm lightly. "Because you're right here."

The simple certainty in her voice stopped him.

His gaze lowered toward her.

She smiled.

Completely unaware of what that did to him.

Because she said it so casually.Like it was obvious.Like of course she was safe with him nearby.

And suddenly So'lek found himself unable to argue.

So he settled for placing a large hand briefly against the top of her head. A gesture halfway between affection and exasperation. "You worry me."

(Y/n) immediately grinned. "Good."

"I am serious."

"I know."

The grin only widened.

And despite the constant urge to wrap her in enough protective gear to survive a direct missile strike—A reluctant smile appeared on his face.

Because she was happy.

Then So'lek's earpiece crackled. He immediately raised a hand to it.

Priya. The concern in her voice was immediate. "So'lek, we've had reports of an RDA patrol operating close to one of the northern field labs."

His expression hardened instantly. The relaxed warrior disappeared. Replaced by the soldier.

"We think they're scouting."

"We would appreciate it if you could investigate."

So'lek glanced toward (Y/n). Then toward the distant forest. "I am on my way."

The channel clicked off. Silence followed.

(Y/n) already knew what he was thinking. "No."

His eyes narrowed. "No?"

"You are not escorting me back."

The warrior folded his arms. "I can return you to base first."

"By the time you do that the patrol could be gone."

His jaw tightened. She was right. Unfortunately. "I will walk back with you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

She laughed. "Do you genuinely think I cannot walk through the forest without dying?"

"Yes."

(Y/n) stared at him. "That is incredibly rude."

"It is accurate."

"It is not."

"You are fragile."

She groaned. "I survived before you came along."

"Barely."

"I was doing fine."

"The seizure would suggest otherwise."

"That was unrelated."

"It still happened."

(Y/n) pointed toward the path leading back toward the resistance. "So'lek."

"What?"

"There are no thanators."

Silence.

"No RDA patrols."

Silence.

"No hostile wildlife."

Silence.

"No cliffs."

Still silence.

She threw her hands into the air. "What exactly do you think is going to happen?"

His expression remained entirely serious. "Something."

That somehow made her laugh harder. Eywa help her. He genuinely meant it.

Finally she stepped forward and placed a hand against his arm. The gesture immediately stole his attention. "I will be fine."

The smile she gave him was warm. "You have RDA to go terrorize."

His expression remained unconvinced.

"I can handle a short walk."

A long pause followed.

Then finally. Reluctantly—So'lek nodded. "I do not like this."

"I know."

"You will return directly to base."

"Yes."

"You will not wander off."

"I won't."

"You will call if anything happens."

"I will."

"You—"

(Y/n) laughed and gently pushed his arm. "Go."

The warrior looked like he wanted to argue some more.

Instead he stepped closer.

His hand briefly touched her shoulder. Lingering. Just for a moment.

Then he nodded. "You be careful."

She smiled. The irony almost killed her. "Me?"

"Yes."

"You're literally going to investigate armed soldiers."

"And you are walking through a forest."

"Exactly. Make sure you don't get shot."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I will try."

"You better."

Then he turned. The dogtag warrior disappearing into the forest with the same haunting quietness that made him so dangerous.

(Y/n) watched him go until the trees swallowed him completely. Then she smiled to herself. Shook her head. And started the walk back toward the resistance.

Completely unaware that So'lek looked back three separate times before finally continuing toward the northern field lab.

(Y/n) stepped back into the resistance base feeling considerably lighter than she had that morning.

The walk had done her good. The sunlight. The absence of walls.

And admittedly—Spending time with So'lek.

She was already mentally sorting through what needed repairing next when a voice appeared beside her.

"Hey."

(Y/n) glanced up briefly.

Louis.

Then immediately looked away and continued walking.

Louis cleared his throat. Trying again. "We didn't really get a chance to talk much."

No answer. Not because she was trying to be rude. Quite the opposite.

Her mind was already cycling through a dozen possibilities.

What if she said something wrong? What if she offended him? What if he misunderstood something? What if he got angry?

What if—

Safer to say nothing.

So she simply continued toward her workstation.

Louis followed. "Priya said you work with animals."

That earned a small nod.

"What's that like?"

(Y/n) sat down in her chair and immediately began organizing the equipment she'd left behind. Needles. Thread. Straps. Tools.

"It's nice." Then silence again.

Louis tried another approach. "What are you fixing?"

She looked down. "So'lek's gear."

"Oh. "You're good with this stuff?"

A nod. "Mostly."

The conversation should have ended there.

Instead Louis continued. "What about all this?"

He gestured toward another table covered in vials and glassware. Chemistry equipment. Research notes. Dried plant samples.

(Y/n)'s shoulders tightened slightly. "Research."

"What kind?"

"Medical."

"What are you researching?"

Her skin was beginning to crawl. Not because he'd done anything terrible. Because he kept asking. Question after question. Standing close. Expecting answers.

And she didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of person he was. Didn't know if one wrong response would offend him. Didn't know if he was joking or serious or impatient or kind.

Years of experience had taught her something unfortunate. People were unpredictable.

Meanwhile Louis interpreted the silence as encouragement to keep trying.

"So did you learned medicine from Nalin?"

"Some."

"How long have you been on Pandora?"

"Years."

"Do you always—"

Thankfully Ri'nela appeared. The younger Sarentu took one look at the situation.

One look at (Y/n). And immediately understood.

Because while most people saw quietness—Ri'nela knew the difference between quiet and uncomfortable.

(Y/n)'s shoulders were tense. Her answers were getting shorter. And she was beginning to look desperately at her work like it might rescue her.

So Ri'nela stepped in without hesitation. "(Y/n)!"

The healer looked up immediately. Relief flashed across her face so quickly it almost hurt. "Yes?"

"I need help."

Ri'nela smiled brightly. "Right now."

(Y/n) stood so quickly her chair nearly rolled away. "Oh." Of course."

Louis blinked. "What?"

Ri'nela nodded seriously. "It is very important."

(Y/n) didn't even question it. She immediately began gathering her things.

Louis looked between them. "Oh. Okay."

Ri'nela smiled politely. "We'll see you later."

Then promptly grabbed (Y/n)'s arm and steered her away.

Only once they were safely around the corner did Ri'nela slow down.

"Thank you."

Ri'nela smiled. "He was making you uncomfortable."

(Y/n) looked down.

"A little."

"You could have told him."

"I know." But that was easier said than done.

Ri'nela squeezed her arm gently.

"Come, I was reading this tea recipe in your notebook and couldn’t read the scibble."

That finally earned a smile.

And together they disappeared deeper into the resistance base while Louis stood back at the workstation wondering what exactly had just happened.

But he didn’t want to give up, he’d get her talking to him on way or another.

The patrol had been nothing. A handful of RDA scouts. Nothing worth reporting beyond a routine sighting.

So'lek returned to the resistance base in a far better mood than he'd left it. Until he stepped into the kitchen.

Immediately his eyes found her.

(Y/n) sat at one of the tables with her dinner pushed slightly to one side while she scribbled notes in one of her ever-present notebooks. Half-eaten food. Notebook open. Pen moving.

Some things never changed.

Then he noticed Louis.

The human sat in the chair beside her. Far too close.

At least in So'lek's opinion.

The man was talking. Quite enthusiastically.

(Y/n) was not.

She nodded occasionally. Made small noises of acknowledgment. Then went right back to her notebook.

Louis kept trying. Question after question. Comment after comment. Trying to start a conversation. Trying to keep it going.

And the more So'lek watched— The less he liked it.

Not because Louis had actually done anything wrong.

Because of her. Over the past weeks he'd learned her tells. The little things most people missed. The way she became quieter when uncomfortable. How her shoulders subtly drew inward. How she'd angle herself away from someone without realizing it. How she'd suddenly become very interested in whatever task was in front of her.

And right now?

She was practically trying to climb into her notebook. Then she shuffled slightly. Moving her chair away.

Louis unconsciously moved closer to continue the conversation.

Something inside So'lek immediately disliked that. Strongly. The feeling settled somewhere deep in his chest.

He simply knew one thing. She wanted space.

And Louis wasn't seeing it.

So'lek walked straight toward the table.

The moment (Y/n) looked up and saw him her entire expression changed. The tension disappeared. Her shoulders relaxed.

The small smile that appeared looked suspiciously like relief.

Honestly she looked like she wanted to launch herself directly at him.

That alone told him everything he needed to know.

Without a word So'lek stopped beside her. Large enough that he cast a shadow over half the table.

Louis looked up. "Oh hey."

So'lek nodded once.

Then his attention shifted entirely to (Y/n). "Have you finished your meal?"

(Y/n) blinked. Then glanced down guiltily at the half-finished tray. "...Almost."

The warrior looked unconvinced. "You are working while eating again."

"It helps me think."

"It prevents you from eating."

"I am eating."

"You are writing."

Louis watched the exchange. And immediately noticed something. The conversation flowed. Naturally. Easily.

(Y/n) answered So'lek.

And she argued with him. Rolled her eyes. Made faces. All the things Louis had spent the day unsuccessfully trying to get from her.

"So what are you working on?" Louis tried.

Neither of them seemed to hear him.

"So'lek, I am perfectly capable of eating and writing."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Louis tried again. "Is that research?"

Nothing.

The conversation continued uninterrupted.

"So'lek."

"(Y/n)."

Louis frowned slightly. Then attempted once more. "I was actually asking her—"

The look So'lek gave him was brief. Very brief. A sideways glance. Nothing overtly hostile. Nothing aggressive.

Just a go away.

Louis immediately remembered two very important facts.

One, So'lek was nearly ten feet tall.

Two, So'lek looked capable of folding him into a decorative shape if  motivated.

Louis  wisely reconsidered his life choices. "...You know what."

Both turned slightly.

Louis stood. "I just remembered I promised Priya I'd help with something."

A complete lie. Nobody challenged it.

(Y/n) offered him a polite smile. Then immediately turned back toward So'lek.

Louis felt strangely disappointed by that. And oddly jealous.

Not because So'lek was bigger. Or stronger. Or terrifying. Because of how easy it was. How easy she just jumped into conversation with him.

He wanted that sweet angelic smile directed at him.

So'lek watched him leave. Only once Louis disappeared around the corner did his attention return fully to her.

She had already resumed writing.

He sighed. "You are still working."

"And you are still nagging."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

And for the first time since entering the room (Y/n) laughed.

The  tension from Louis’ presence seemed to leave her shoulders entirely.

So'lek noticed. The warrior lowered himself into a crouch beside her chair, one arm resting against the edge of the table while she returned to picking at her dinner.

For a few moments he simply watched her eat. Making certain she actually did it.

"So."

(Y/n) immediately sighed. "What?"

"Is that man bothering you?"

The effect was immediate. She froze. Like a frightened hexepede that had just spotted movement in the undergrowth.

Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly.

And suddenly she looked deeply uncomfortable.

So'lek's expression immediately darkened. Because that was answer enough.

"I..." (Y/n) looked down at her tray. Then at her notebook. Anywhere except him.

"I do not know what is wrong with me." The confession came quietly. "I know he has not actually done anything."

Her fingers tightened slightly around the fork. "But whenever he comes close..."

She struggled for the words. "My skin crawls." The admission clearly embarrassed her. As though she felt guilty for even thinking it.

"I should not be making assumptions about people." Her voice became smaller. "But I cannot help it."

So'lek listened silently. Giving her space to continue.

"He asks questions."

"Normal questions."

"And I know everyone thinks he is nice."

Her shoulders drew inward slightly. "But every time he starts talking to me I just..."

She exhaled. "...want to leave."

The warrior's gaze never left her. "Why?"

"I do not know."

But she did know she just didn’t know how to voice it to So’lek. How does someone say that in the past men with guns, soldiers, had never treated her kindly… far from it.

"I do not want him to get angry if I accidentally insult him." The words slipped out before she could stop them.

And suddenly So'lek understood enough. Because it was not Louis.

Not really. It was fear. Old fear. Old habits. Old scars.

The kind that lingered long after danger had passed, that lingered in the pages of that old notebook and in her mind.

His voice softened. "You think he is a danger?"

Immediately she shook her head. "No."

Then quieter— "I just don’t know."

Her eyes dropped to the table again. "And it makes me nervous."

For several moments So'lek said nothing. Simply thinking. Watching her.Seeing how genuinely distressed she looked over something most people would dismiss.

Then he reached over and gently took the notebook from her hands.

(Y/n) frowned. "What are you doing?"

"You are thinking too much."

"I am absolutely thinking the correct amount."

"You are not." He set the notebook aside. Far enough away she couldn't immediately grab it back.

Then his large hand settled gently over hers. "Listen to me."

Her eyes lifted toward his.

"If someone makes you uncomfortable, you do not owe them your time."

The statement genuinely seemed to surprise her.

"You do not have to answer every question."

"You do not have to speak to everyone."

"You do not have to stay where you do not wish to stay."

She stared at him. As though nobody had ever said that before.

Which honestly wouldn't have surprised him.

"But—"

"No."

His thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles. "If he is not dangerous, then good."

"If he is simply trying to be friendly, then also good."

His gaze remained steady. "But that does not mean you must entertain it."

Something in her expression softened. Just slightly. Because that was the part she'd been struggling with. The guilt. The feeling that she was somehow doing something wrong by wanting space.

So'lek continued quietly. "You are allowed to dislike things."

"You are allowed to walk away."

"You are allowed to say no."

(Y/n) looked down. Then gave the smallest nod.

But he could tell she didn't fully believe it yet.

So'lek squeezed her hand once. Then released it.

"If he bothers you again." The warrior's voice became calm. Dangerously calm. "You tell me."

Immediately her eyes widened. "So'lek."

"What?"

"You cannot threaten every person that annoys me."

"I can try."

That startled a laugh out of her. And suddenly the tension eased.

Exactly as he'd intended.

Good.

Much better than watching her sit there worrying herself sick over a conversation.

So'lek reached over.

Pushed her forgotten dinner slightly closer. "Now eat."

She groaned immediately. "There he is."

"There who is?"

"The nagging So’lek."

"It is because you keep forgetting."

(Y/n) smiled.

So’lek felt something in his chest flutter. Yes, he adored this woman. The realization no longer surprised him. Somewhere between cups of tea, arguments about rest, tending injured creatures, and watching her give every piece of herself to help others, the feeling had become as natural as breathing.

The sight settled something warm inside his chest.

Then his eyes drifted briefly toward the corridor Louis had disappeared down.

The warmth remained. But something else joined it. A faint tightening. A quiet awareness. Because he had not liked the look on her face when Louis was around. Had not liked how she shrank into herself. How she seemed constantly poised to escape.

And perhaps more importantly—He had not liked the look on Louis's face either.

Not because the man had done anything wrong.Not yet.

But So'lek knew people. Knew the way eyes lingered. The way attention followed. The way curiosity could become something more.

His gaze shifted back toward (Y/n).

She was happily explaining something to herself in her notes now, muttering, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind.

Oblivious. Sweet Eywa, she was oblivious.

The warrior found himself wondering if she even realized how people looked at her sometimes.

Probably not. She was far too busy worrying about offending someone to notice when she was the one capturing attention.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Louis might simply be trying to make a friend. That was entirely possible. But until So'lek knew for certain—He intended to pay closer attention.

Just in case.

The thought felt perfectly reasonable to him. Entirely logical. After all, she'd only recently admitted that Louis made her uncomfortable.

And if something bothered her—Then it mattered.Simple as that.

Across the table, (Y/n) looked up suddenly."Why are you staring at me?"

So'lek blinked.Apparently he'd been doing exactly that. "I am not."

"You absolutely are."

"I was thinking."

"That is even more concerning."

The warrior huffed softly. And just like that, the seriousness faded.

Because she was smiling again.

Still, as she returned to her notebook, So'lek's gaze drifted once more toward the corridor, he intended to keep a very close eye on this situation.

Next >

❀࿔: 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔ aged up! neteyam ✘ fem! metkayina! reader

♪ warnings: lower caps, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing neteyam, spitting, possesive neteyam, dry humping/grinding, tit sucking, slight nipple play

♪ wc: 4.2k

♪ author's note: ooouuuuu i had a blast writing this 😝😝😝 spitting is sexy asf idc what anybody say! tysm for ur request i hope you like it💗💗💗

the sound of rushing water and the gentle waves crashing against the shore fill the air as you sit on a rock, looking out into the vast ocean. the cool breeze blows through your hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea.

as you sit, lost in thought, a figure approaches from the distance. you recognize the figure as unay, one of the metkayina warriors.

you were aware that he liked you. you had tried countless times to get the point across that you weren’t interested in him, but he never seemed to take the hint.

you offer him a warm smile and his eyes light up, misinterpreting it as encouragement. he sits down next to you on the rock, his arm brushing against yours. “beautiful day, isn't it?” he says, trying to engage in conversation. “i was hoping to see you out here.”

you nodded, looking out into the ocean. “yeah, it is really nice.”

he leans in slightly closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “you know, you always look so beautiful out here by the ocean. the way the sunlight catches your eyes... it's really something.” his flirty tone is evident as he tries to charm you.

you offered him another smile. “thank you. that’s really sweet.” you reply, trying to be nice despite not being comfortable with the flirting.

unay takes your response as an opening and scoots a bit closer, his thigh now pressing against yours. “i was thinking... maybe after dinner, we could go for a swim together? just the two of us, under the moonlight? the water is always so warm and peaceful at night.”

“ummm,” you start. “i think im busy. but if im not then im sure we could.”

he’s clearly not picking up on your hints that you're not interested. his hand moves to rest casually on the rock behind you, effectively trapping you slightly. “you’re always so busy lately. ever since those outsiders showed up...”

“well i’ve been busy with helping them to learn our ways. i promised tsireya that i would help her.” you replied.

while you did promise tsireya that, that wasnt the main reason why you were always with them. the truth is that you wanted to get closer to someone that had caught your attention. and it was pretty clear that you had caught his too.

you werent sure if unay was aware of the growing tension between you and neteyam, or if he was just deliberately choosing to ignore it and continue to chase after you.

unay’s expression turned slightly jealous, his hand tightening on the rock behind you. “those outsiders don't need our ways. they’re not one of us.” he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “you should be spending time with someone from your own clan.”

what you didn’t know was that from a distance, partially hidden behind the trunk of a large tree, neteyam was watching the scene unfold.

his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he sees unay leaning closer to you, effectively trapping you against the rock. he sees your polite smile and knows you're trying to be nice, but he hates seeing another man touching you.

he sees the way unay is invading your personal space, and how uncomfortable you look despite trying to be polite. his hands ball into fists at his sides as jealousy and anger boil inside him.

“that’s why im helping to teach them. you should be more welcoming towards them.” you tell him, your voice slightly firm.

unay rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in learning about the outsiders. “i don't need to learn their ways. i have everything i need right here.” his hand shifts slightly, now resting on the rock closer to you. “like you, for example.”

neteyams breath hitches as he watches unay’s hand move closer. his mind races with possessive thoughts, his instincts screaming at him to claim you right then and there. but he holds back, watching and waiting to see how you'll react.

you don’t reply, just offer him yet another smile like you always did.

unay takes your silence as encouragement, his hand slowly sliding down the rock until it's resting just behind your back. he leans in closer, his voice a low murmur. “you know, if you weren't so busy with those outsiders... i could show you a good time.”

neteyams eyes flash with anger and his hands clench so tightly that his nails dig into his palms. he can barely stand watching this any longer. the way unay is talking to you…

neteyam finally decided to walk up.

“oh, um…” you trail off, not sure how to respond.

“everything good here?” neteyams voice cuts through the air. unay looks up, surprised and slightly annoyed to see neteyam approaching. he slowly removes his hand from behind your back, sitting up straighter. “yeah, everything's fine. we were just talking.” he leans back slightly, giving neteyam a challenging look.

neteyam sits down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. unays eyes narrow slightly, clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere and neteyams silent claim on you. he leans in closer, not backing down easily.

neteyam's voice is low and calm, but there's an undercurrent of possessiveness and warning in his tone. he looks at unay directly, his eyes unblinking. “i think that's enough talking for now. don’t you?” his other hand comes to rest on your knee.

unay’s jaw tightens, but he doesn't back down. instead, he leans in closer, his eyes flicking between you and neteyam. “or maybe we haven't talked enough.”

neteyams eyes narrow at his words. his hand on your hip squeezes tighter, his thumb pressing into your hipbone. his other hand moves higher on your leg, almost reaching your thigh. “i think we have.”

you let out a heavy sigh, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the atmosphere.

your sigh breaks through the air, making both men realize how uncomfortable you are. unay finally backs down, seeing that he's not going to get anywhere with you while neteyam is being so clearly possessive.

neteyam's voice is calm and controlled, but there's no mistaking the message behind his words. he looks at unay with a hard stare, his hand still resting on your leg. “i think you should go.”

unay’s face twists into a scowl, clearly irritated by being dismissed. “we were just having a conversation.”

“a conversation that's over now.” neteyam replies, his voice firm. his hand moves slightly higher on your leg. “and i’m not asking you to leave. i’m telling you.” his eyes are hard and commanding. “go.”

unay’s shoulders slump as he realizes he's not getting anywhere. he stands up, giving you a longing look before turning his gaze to neteyam. “this is foolish.” he mutters. “she can speak for herself.”

neteyam's jaw tightens, his words striking a nerve. “can she? because she looked pretty uncomfortable to me.”

unay stares for a long moment, then finally turns and walks off with a frustrated shake of his head.

neteyam watches him leave before turning his full attention to you. his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or annoyance at his behavior. “are you okay?”

“neteyam… you didnt have to-“

“yes, i did.” he says firmly, his voice low and serious. “i saw how uncomfortable he was making you, and i couldn't just stand by and do nothing.”

he suddenly stood up. “come with me.” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. his eyes are intense, almost desperate.

“what? where?-”

neteyam simply starts walking away from the shore, not answering your question. he grips your hand tightly, pulling you along with him. he walks quickly, his legs eating up the distance as he leads you towards the dense forest that borders the beach.

he finally stops when you're deep enough in the forest that no one else can hear or see you. he turns to face you abruptly, his eyes burning with intensity. “we’re going to talk.” he says firmly. he hand leaves yours to rest on your waist.

“neteyam-“

neteyam cuts you off again, his voice softer this time but no less intense. “just listen to me, okay?” he steps closer to you, his frame looming over yours.

he takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting yours again. “i don't want anyone else touching you. talking to you. looking at you.” his hand tightens on your waist. “especially not that warrior back there.”

“neteyam…” you breathed out.

“i know i was probably being a dick back there.” he admits, running his other hand through his hair. “but i couldn't stand how he was looking at you.” he paused. “like he wanted what's mine.”

your heart hammered in your chest at his words. his eyes dropped to your lips again, watching them part slightly as your breath hitched.

without thinking, he stepped even closer, his body almost pressing against yours. “and it's not just him. it’s any man who looks at you like that. like they want to take you from me.” his voice tightens.

neteyams hands move to grip your hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulls you flush against him. his face is inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours.

your eyes dart down to his lips, twitching with unspoken words and suppressed kisses.

he’s suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to bend your head back and kiss you right now. his voice drops even lower, almost hoarse. “say something” he commands softly. “anything.”

“they… they won’t take me from you, neteyam.” your voice was barely above a whisper. “i won’t let them.”

his breath catches, his eyes going soft and possessive all at once. a low groan rumbles in his chest. “good,” he murmurs against your lips, not quite kissing you but so close you can feel the heat of him. “because i’m not letting you go either.” his hand moves up to cradle the back of your head.

neteyam's lips hover over yours, brushing against them lightly. it’s a soft, teasing kiss, driving you crazy with need. his eyes watch your face closely, searching for any sign of discomfort. instead, he finds you leaning in, chasing his lips.

“please…” you whispered.

neteyam smirks against your lips, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. he pulls back just enough to keep his lips out of reach, teasing you with soft, feather-light kisses that barely touch. his hands tighten on your hips. “please what?”

“please...” you repeated softly. “kiss me…”

neteyam finally gives in, crushing his lips against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. his hand in your hair tightens, pulling you closer as his tongue pushes past your lips. it’s possessive, claiming. everything you've wanted from him.

you wrapped your arms around him tightly, your tongue tangling with his.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. his other hand slides down to your lower back, pressing you impossibly closer until there's no space between you at all. he breaks the kiss just to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting. you don’t waste another second before kissing him again.

he groans approvingly at your eagerness, kissing you back with even more intensity. his hands slide down to your ass, gripping and lifting you up against him. you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, and he walks you backwards until your back hits a large tree. “mine,” he breathes against your lips between kisses. “all mine.”

you whine softly at his words and begin to grind yourself against him, making neteyam’s eyes roll back.

he presses you harder against the tree, his hips moving in rhythm with yours. he kisses you deeper, more aggressively, the sound of your moans driving him wild. “fuck…”

his hard length strains against the thin fabric of his loincloth, pressing insistently against your core. he grinds against you harder, letting you feel every inch of him. his kisses become more urgent, more desperate as he presses against you.

soft whimpers and moans escape your lips, making his mind turn hazy with lust. one hand slides down to grip your thigh tighter, pulling you even closer as he thrusts his erection against you. “you like that? like feeling me against you?”

you nod frantically. “yes… yes, i love it.”

his hand slides under your top, his palm finding your breast. he groans at the softness of it, squeezing gently before pinching your nipple between his fingers. he continues to grind against you, the friction almost too much to bear through the thin fabric of your loincloth.

his pupils dilate as he lifts your top up, baring your breasts to him. he immediately captures one in his mouth, sucking and biting gently while his other hand plays with the other nipple. his hips never stop moving against you, the friction driving both of you crazy.

you cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair, the feeling only spurring him on. he sucks harder on your breast, his teeth scraping gently against your sensitive peak. his hand slides down to grip your hip, pulling you even closer as he grinds his erection against your clit through your loincloth.

you could feel yourself getting close just from this, just from grinding against him, your climax building rapidly in your lower stomach. “neteyam….”

“mmm?” he hums against your breast, his hand moving between your legs to put pressure right on your clit over your loincloth. “you close?”

“yes… yes im so close… please-“

at your plea, he freezes, his body going perfectly still against yours. he sees the frustration and unfulfilled desire in your eyes and smirks mischievously. instead of continuing to move against you, he pulls back, breaking the delicious friction, making you whimper in protest.

before you could ask why he stopped— he dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, his hands gripping your hips. your loincloth is soaked through with your arousal, and the sight makes his cock twitch with need. he looks up at your frustrated, turned-on face.

his hands untie your loincloth slowly, letting it fall to the ground and revealing your pussy to him. he swallows hard, his self-control hanging by a thread. instead of immediately diving in like he wants to, he spreads your legs wider and blows cool air over your core.

“neteyam, please…” you breathed out.

he smirks up at you and leans in, nuzzling his nose against your clit, but not touching it with his lips or tongue. “please what?” he teases, his breath hot against you.

“you know what.”

“say it.” he demands, his voice rough with desire. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches away from where you need him most.

“i want you to eat me out.” you said, past the point of embarrassment.

a grin spreads across his face at your words. without warning, he dips his head forward and runs his tongue along your slit, tasting you. he pulls back immediately, leaving you wanting more. “like that?”

“more… please…”

he chuckles at your plea, spreading you wider with his thumbs. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, sucking it lightly between his lips before letting it pop out. he repeats the action a few times, driving you wild with need. “more what?” his voice is muffled against your pussy.

you groaned in frustration. you didn’t reply, instead gripping his hair tightly and pushing him between your legs, keeping him there.

he groans against you at the sudden action. he stops teasing and dives in, his tongue swirling around your clit before sucking it hard into his mouth. his hands grip your thighs tightly as he eats you out with fierce hunger.

you threw your head back against the tree, your legs shaking against his shoulders.

feeling you tremble against him makes him eat you out even more aggressively. one of his hands leaves your thigh to slide two fingers inside of you, pumping them in time with his sucking.

you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you, your grip tightening on his hair “fuck…”

he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot repeatedly while his tongue flicks your clit rapidly. your taste is intoxicating, and the sound of your voice crying out in pleasure is driving him mad. he groans possessively, knowing he's the one making you fall apart like this.

you were already so close from that edge he had denied you. “dont stop…” you pleaded.

he doesn't stop, his fingers and tongue working in a relentless rhythm. he feels your walls start to flutter around his fingers, your breath hitching as you get closer to the edge.

he doubles down his efforts, sucking your clit harder and pressing down on that sensitive spot inside you with his fingers.

he groans against your pussy as you start to come, your juices flowing down his chin, a broken moan escaping you.

he keeps licking and sucking gently as you ride out your orgasm, not wanting to stop until every last shudder leaves your body.

when you finally go limp against the tree, he slowly pulls his fingers out and gives your clit one last kiss before sitting back on his heels.

he watches you with heated eyes as you crawl towards him, joining him on the ground, his face and chin glistening. he smirks at your disheveled state, loving how you look completely wrecked from his mouth.

you lean forward and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.

he kisses you back eagerly, his hands wrapping around to grip your ass possessively. he breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, marking you with hickeys. “lay back,” he murmurs.

you lay down on the ground, the moss providing a cushion against your back. neteyam positions himself between your legs and kisses you deeply, his hard length straining painfully against the fabric of his loincloth.

you bring your hand down and palm him through his loincloth, rubbing and squeezing gently.

he hisses at your touch, his head falling back as you touch him through the thin fabric. he’s so hard it's painful, his length throbbing against your hand. he covers your hand with his own, pressing it harder against him. “fuck...”

he lifts his hips slightly to give you better access as you start to undo the knots of his loincloth. his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes as you wrap your hand around him, stroking gently.

“please..” you breathed out. “i need you…”

he smiles down at you, loving your desperate state. he leans down to kiss you roughly, biting your bottom lip as he positions himself at your entrance. he rubs his tip against your slit, spreading your wetness around but not entering you.

his tip catches your clit, making both of you moan softly. he repeats the action a few more times, circling it slowly with the head of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit, never pushing inside. “what do you need?”

“i need you inside of me, please…”

he smirks and pushes the head of his cock inside you just an inch, then pulls back out immediately. he does it again, pushing in a bit deeper this time before withdrawing. “how bad do you want it?” he asks hoarsely.

you sighed in frustration, taking the initiative to grab his cock and sink yourself down on it.

he moans loudly as you suddenly sink down on him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. his hands fly to your hips, gripping them tightly as he buries his face in your neck, biting down on your skin. “fuck...” he breathes out roughly, his cock pulsing inside you.

he stays still inside you, letting you adjust to his size. he fills you completely, stretching you wide around him. he kisses your neck softly, his hands rubbing your hips and thighs gently.

“move.” you command softly.

at your command, he begins to move his hips slowly, sliding his length in and out of you with deliberate slowness. he wants to draw this out, to make you feel every inch of him. he lifts your legs to wrap around his waist, opening you up wider for him. as he does, his cock grazes that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “like that?”

“yes… just like that…” you whined.

he finds that spot again, hitting it with each thrust. he watches your face intently, loving the way your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in pleasure. he leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you.

he pulls back suddenly. “open your mouth.” he commands.

you obey immediately, opening for him, tongue sticking out. he then pulls back and spits into your mouth. your eyes widen at the dirty gesture, but it turns you on even more. you swallow eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. he starts thrusting harder, the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

he kisses you messily after making you swallow his spit, his tongue pushing into your mouth aggressively. “mine. you’re fucking mine.” he growls against your lips, pounding into you harshly. “say it.” he demands roughly.

“im yours, neteyam.” you gasped out.

he grins at your submission, loving the way your voice hitches when you say his name. he leans down to bite your neck hard as he continues to thrust inside you, marking you possessively. “yes, yes you are…”

you raked your nails down his back, hard enough to draw blood.

he hisses in pleasure as you mark him back, his eyes flashing with desire. he loves that you’re claiming him just as he's claiming you. his abs contract with each powerful thrust, sweat beading on his chest. “touch yourself.” he orders gruffly.

you go down and find your clit, rubbing it with your finger in time with his thrusts.

he groans loudly as he watches you play with your clit, his pace becoming more erratic as he sees you pleasure yourself while he fucks you. he grabs your hand and shoves it away, replacing it with his own fingers. “let me do it,” he growls.

he starts rubbing your clit in fast, firm circles with his thumb, his cock still pounding inside you. the dual stimulation is overwhelming, and you can feel an intense orgasm building deep within you. he leans down to bite and suck on your nipples roughly while continuing to rub your clit.

“neteyam, fuck, im close.” you breathed out, your climax building rapidly.

he can feel you tightening around his cock, squeezing him deliciously. he speeds up his thrusts, hammering into you with abandon. his thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. “come for me.” he commands breathlessly. “let me feel it.” he bites down on your collarbone as he feels you clench around him.

his words push you over the edge and you come with a cry, your orgasm ripping through you.

your climax triggers his own, and he buries himself deep inside you with a loud moan as he comes, pumping you full of his release. he keeps rubbing your clit gently through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're oversensitive and twitching.

he stays inside you for a moment, his face buried in your neck as he catches his breath. his cock jerks inside you with each pulse, filling you even more. “look at me.” he says gruffly.

when your eyes meet his, he cups your face with one hand, his expression serious yet tender. he leans down and kisses you, more gentle now. “you belong to me,” he whispers against your lips. “you’re all mine.” he strokes your cheek softly, the possessiveness in his tone mixed with genuine affection. “say it again.”

“i’m yours, neteyam. im all yours.”

his eyes soften at your words, and he kisses you again. he pulls out of you slowly, watching as some of his release spills out.

you reach down and spread it inside you with your fingers, making him groan approvingly at the sight. he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth, sucking your fingers clean of his cum.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. he rests his cheek on top of your head, one hand stroking your hair gently as he catches his breath. “you’re everything to me.” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. he rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you pressed against him.

he holds you tightly and closes his eyes contentedly, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. his hand continues to gently brush your hair, occasionally planting soft kisses onto your head or shoulder.

“we should clean up now…” you suggest.

he shakes his head. “in a minute,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “i want to stay like this for a bit longer.”

you smiled softly and listened to his heart beating steadily under your ear, feeling completely content and at peace.

tgis was kinda rushed sorry 💔💔💔

In this Choose Your Own Adventure, Eywa’s voice guides your every step. Unfortunately, it becomes much harder to listen when Neteyam Sully is involved...

Neteyam x Fem!Reader Choose Your Own Adventure

-everyone keeps stealing Neteyam's mate.

word count: 1k

a/n: just a little something to get the blog going. not the first avatar fic i've written, just the first that i've actually completed. also first time writing on tumblr so sorry if the format isn't good.

Neteyam sighed for the umpteenth time. He dragged a hand over his face with a tired frustration of a man who has lived through the same ridiculousness over and over again.

Once again, someone had stolen his wife.

He had left you sitting in the center of your shared kelku briefly, only to return to empty space and still air.

Without a second thought he marched through the worn pathway that he had followed too often for his liking in a single week. Each step betrayed the frustration that sat heavy on his bones but came to a stop when he reached his destination.

There, on the floor of his family's kelku, sat you and Lo'ak dipping freshly carved beads into dye and laying them out to dry.

Pairing: So’lek x Tamtey/The Sarentu!fem

Summary: Tamtey makes a reckless decision in order to prove herself to the clans elders, but So’lek has to save her. The tension could’ve been cut with a knife but it was cut by confessions instead.

Warnings: contains smut.

Authors Note:

hey guys! I’m posting a link to my Ao3 series here! Starting with Look At Me When You Lie. This is a massive series (100k+ words) that I poured my soul into. I hope you enjoy!

The first three works are relatively domestic with pretty tame Smut, but once you hit the story A Path Unfolding, it gets into heavy themes.

✫—————————————✫

“I was testing you.”

She gave a brittle, humorless breath of a laugh. “By letting them assume I wasn’t capable?”

The bandage tightened around her arm. He pulled it a fraction harder than necessary. She hissed through her teeth but did not flinch away.

“I was forcing you to act without seeking my approval,” he said.

“Well,” she shot back, her tail giving an agitated snap against the roots behind her, “you succeeded.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80206871/chapters/210569836

Pairing: So’lek x Avatar-driver!reader

Summary: You were brought into the TAP program 6 years before Jake Sully waged war and ran the RDA off of the planet. You had thought the Sarentu kids you watched grow up were dead. 15 years later, a second chance to give them the freedom they deserve arises as well as secrets that were kept hidden.

Word count: 9.5K

Trope: Tolerates one another to understands each other to lovers ig

Warning: mentions and mild descriptions of chronic(?) pain, mentioned survivors guilt,  poor choice in words, some swearing, more than likely medical inaccuracies (sorry mom), described death/killing

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Na’vi Dictionary:

‘Eylan - Friend

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A/N: yall, i severely underestimated how much a new environment would impact my ability to form cohesive thoughts. I’m hoping to be back in the groove of things here in the next week or two. Part 7 is prob going to be a bit heavy hitting so there’s that to look forward to.

❁ <- Previous ❁ Next -> ❁

❁ TSMUKE ❁

It feels like you’ve been sitting here for hours, “Nalin, this really isn’t necessary. I’m fine, see?” You wave your hand in front of her face. “Everything moves properly, no pain.”

Her head jerks back slightly at the sudden movement before giving you a small glare. “You nearly died in that explosion. It’s barely been two weeks since your transfer. And you haven’t let anyone hardly touch you since the first week. And now, I have to force you to sit down for more than five minutes to actually check in on your health that, need I remind you, you’re still obviously neglecting. And you only let me do bits and pieces of my actual work up. So yeah, no, you’re getting looked over whether you want me to or not.” She smacks the back of your hand down as she turns her attention back to her tests. 

Her pen light blinds you momentarily as she checks pupillary response; good. Fingers snap loud and close to your ears, making you wince. Nalin hums slightly, jotting it down in the new records she’d made for you. Said that now that you didn’t go back and forth she’d have to log things a bit differently.

 She makes you open your mouth, yawn, extend your tongue out while shining her pen light to the back of your throat. All normal movement and coloring. Her fingers ghost under your jaw then down your throat, noting no changes, no lumps, or sore spots. She then pauses, reaching behind her. 

Cool metal rests on your skin, “Breathe in and out, slow and steady.” In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Front and back. Breath pulls in so deep it almost makes you cough before slowly pushing it back out. She has you do that four more times before she’s satisfied. Lung sounds; good. Clear, soft, even.

Your eyebrows knit together a bit when she turns around, bottom lip curling lightly in against your teeth. A dull ache had welcomed you when you’d woken up this morning. You’d done everything you could to ignore it, to make it go away. You subtly press your fingers just above your knee while Nalin writes down in her notes, quickly pulling away when she turns back to you. 

Her fingers press the warmed end solidly against your chest, moving around a few inches every now and then. Left, right, small shifts lower and out, then your back. She forces you to be quiet, fingers pressed into the pulse point on your wrist at the same time. Nalin adjusts her hold a couple times, pressing the metal firmly around your sternum and back, eyebrows pinched as she listens.

Nalin finally pulls the stethoscope away, sitting back while wrapping it around the back of her neck. “Your heart’s a little fast, have you been dizzy lately? Any sudden weakness or feeling extra tired?” 

You shake your head, catching Ri’nela in the corner of your eye trying to look like she wasn’t listening in. “No, nothing like that. Or anything else, like I told you.” There’s no hiding the exasperation in your voice, “Seriously Nalin, this is a waste of time. There’s so much to get done after the destruction Mercer caused in the Upper Plains. To prepare for. We still have to figure out what he’s planning next.”

Nalin throws her hands up in frustration, “You cannot keep pushing off your health. One day you’re going to make yourself collapse and then what? ‘Oh, sorry Nalin. Wow, I didn’t see this coming. I’ll listen to you next time, I promise.’” Her voice pitches in irked mockery, not hiding her worry.

You greet her frustration with a flat look, “Nalin, you’ve been checking me every day for almost a week now. If anything was going to happen, it would have already.” 

She almost agrees with you, you can see the internal battle she’s having with herself. Then she shakes the thought free before it takes root, “No, this won’t take that long. And I’ve barely been able to check you anyway.”

A groan tumbles out as your slouch forward, “We’ve been at this forever.”

“It would’ve been done already if you would just sit still and let me do my work.” She holds out her hand, waiting. Reluctantly you sit back up, giving her your hand. She makes you curl your fingers, bend your wrist then elbow. Then, reaching as high up as you could, front then back. Repeating it on the other side. Moving both together. She moves briefly to press along your spine and shoulder blades before sitting back down.

Fingers push against your abdomen, then move on. Along your sides, from ribs down to your hips, turning to write down more. Nalin continued her prodding, working her way around your hip bones to your legs. Making you straighten one knee, rolling your ankle and flexing your foot. Then the other knee, rinse and repeat.

You did your best to hide the discomfort when you extended your left knee. Ignored the slight burning that flared when you rolled your ankle. Pushed down the pulsing that ricocheted from your knee down to your toes. Hoping that you’d be able to get through Nalin’s exam without her noticing. 

Nalin notices something’s off, of course she does. “Yo     u sure you’re feeling okay? You don’t look so hot.”

Teasing words quickly mask the pain, “Wow, way to tear a girl down, doc.”

She gives you a flat look, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Her face softens slightly, worry etched plainly on her face. “Seriously, you don’t have to hide it if something’s bothering you. You’ve had a lot of trauma happen to your body, your mind.” She sighs, thinking over those last words. “I can’t begin to imagine what all of that could possibly do to someone’s psyche.”

A small seed of dread plants itself into your brain, worried if she keeps prodding that you’ll tell her everything. So instead, you play it off. “Nalin, I am fine. I promise you, look.” You do some exaggerated stretching, proving your body is ‘fine’. That you are ‘fine’. “See? Couldn’t be better physically, even if I tried.” 

Nalin just watches you, lips pursed. “And mentally?”

You look away shrugging, “I’ve been worse.” That was the most honest you’ve been all morning. “But I’m not in a bad spot. Not right now.” Even more truth.

You can tell you haven’t quite convinced her but she humors you and lets it go. Her hand pats gently on your throbbing knee, unaware of the sharp needle-like sensation that follows every light tap. “I can only help if you allow me to. If something changes, and I mean anything changes at all, you let me know. Okay?” She cracks a smile, trying to copy your normally light attitude towards things, “Besides, we can’t have your ‘new’ body failing just because you decided to neglect your health. Not after all that work to keep you here after all.”

Quick to latch onto the change in atmosphere, you give her a two finger salute. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Nalin just shakes her head, turning and shooing you away. “Go away, I have work to do.”

Teeth clench hard when you stand up, glad that no one is currently watching you. “See ya later, doc.”

“And don’t call me that. That was Hajir’s title.”

You call back over your shoulder, “Hate to break it to you, Nalin. But you are the doc now. Better get used to it.”

Steady, painful steps guide you to the airlock. Every third step sends strong waves of sudden sparks shooting up and down from your knee, making your steps stutter. Just enough to notice if someone was paying attention. 

Hot, sharp, burning. The sensations rotated, rolling out further with each step. Stronger with every movement, making your teeth grind, swallowing pained sounds. There’s a brief reprieve when the airlock closes behind you, blocking any potentially watching eyes from your small agony. 

Allowing a few moments to acknowledge your pain, bending down and pushing your fingers into your knee again. Willing the pain to fizzle down into something manageable. Something no one would look twice at. The pressure does help to an extent, pain lessening around each finger tip painted light blue from the kneading force against the offending joint. Though, it doesn’t last long.

Hands quickly pull away and back snaps straight as the airlock hisses open, forcing you to put back on a brave face. Eyes scan the various faces in the outer cave before you force yourself forward again. Thankfully, most seemed to be fully engaged in whatever conversations they were already in, worries being passed around. Not even giving you and your slight limp the time of day. Perfect.

Your pace is slower than it normally is as you make your way to the back stairs, knuckles paling significantly when you finally grab the railing. You take no notice of observant eyes tucked into a corner. Not noticing how they watched you hobble slightly up each step. How you used the railing as a crutch to continue on and up out of sight.

A cramp was forming in your hand by the time you let go of the railing, choosing instead to drag your palm along the cave wall. It was cool to the touch, comforting against warmed skin. If it wasn’t for everyone inside you might’ve just sunk down right there against the wall. But there were people inside, a lot of people. People who would make this whole thing into a bigger deal then it needed to be.

So you pushed on, out the mouth of the cave, up the small hill to the small cliff side. Away from prying eyes and pushy questions. Hiding behind small saplings, just starting to grow tall enough to obscure you from view if you sat down.

Thirty minutes. You got thirty minutes of peace before snapping twigs disrupt fingers aching from persistently massaging your knee. Ears twist around already picking up on the familiar footsteps. A small teasing smile pulls at your lips, leaning back on your hands, giving your fingers a break. “Did you come to bother me?”

A short grunt sounds beside you as he lowers to join you, knee close enough to bump yours if he wanted. “Something is wrong.” Ah, so he saw. Of course he did. There was no use in ignoring him, you’d learned a while ago he would not drop things. Even when asked sometimes.

Your tail lashes in short bursts behind you unconsciously, brushing through tickling grass. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

So’lek doesn’t answer for a moment, eyes locked down on the slightly purple knee you’d just been kneading. “Yes.”

A small pause drapes over you, searching for the words and the courage to say them. Hands plant firmly next to you, lifting your legs and turning to face him, feet tucked under bent knees. The shift in movement clearly shocks him for a second, brow raising just a touch before he turns too. One leg still hanging over the edge, the other tucked up, foot under knee. A deep breath, “It’s my leg.”

His eyes flick down again, purple slightly more faded than a minute ago. “Does it hurt?”

“Sort of.”

So’lek is quiet as he processes your words, confused and trying to understand. “What do you mean?”

A small breath is sighed out, face scrunching slightly as you think of a way to explain everything. “Do you remember what I looked like after the bombing? The way I was hurt?”

“I try not to."

Lips purse fully unamused, “I’m trying to be serious right now.”

“As am I. It is not a fond memory to remember.”

Your eyes flick down a deep sigh leaving you. You hadn’t thought about it like that. Of course seeing allies hurt or killed wasn’t great to remember. “Sorry, I just.. When I was like that something was missing, right? A part of me.”

He doesn’t answer but you know he knows exactly what you’re referring to. Your missing leg. “I might not have been conscious during that, but that doesn’t mean my mind was unaware.” Fingers scratch through loose braids beneath your ear before sliding down to rest in your lap. “Humans call it phantom pain. Normally it happens when a limb is severed. The mind forgets the limb is gone and just remembers the pain it felt when the limb was removed.” 

A small chuckle to lighten the mood doesn’t quite work, but it eases something inside you regardless. “It’s like my mind forgets that the body that lost that limb is dead.” Fingers move to your left knee, planting your foot to bring it up into view. “I feel pain here. Sometimes sharp and shooting like lightning, other times dull and hot, like my leg is on fire from the knee down.”

“Is there a cure?” His voice pulls your eyes away from the offending limp, head rocking lightly side to side. 

“Yes and no. Sometimes just reminding the mind that it’s still there helps; looking, touching. Walking around barefoot has been helping with that some. But there’s things we can’t do. Medicines we can’t replicate the same, therapies. I mean, we could probably try to find local replacements but,” your palm wraps around your kneecap letting the heat seep in slowly. “I don’t want the others to know, not yet at least. There’s too much to do and with everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks, we need all hands on deck.”

So’lek is quietly listening, soft and attentive. “You are telling me.”

You nod holding his gaze, “I trust you. You’ve done so much for me, so much that I didn’t deserve.” So’lek makes a move to interrupt you but stops when you raise your hand. “There was no reason for you to help me the way you did. The things you did, helped and guided me through. It was kind. A kindness that I will repay one day.”

“There is no need.”

Shoulders raise, head tilted to look over the trees. An almost teasing look sent from the corner of your eyes. “Maybe not, but I’m still going to.” 

Your attention slowly drifts over the tree tops, watching birds flock in the distance. Kite manta float slowly through the branches, carefree. So’lek watches you, studies the smile dancing on your lips. The way your eyes soften when you find something pretty in the distance. Observing the small jump in your eyebrows and shoulders when something bursts between distant trunks, animals playing or hunting. Living. He doesn’t want to break your peace, but the need for something else was stronger. “Does it hurt now?”

A light hum pairs with your words. “A little,” you curl your fingers a bit to shake some stiffness free. “But I gotta give my fingers a break. Or they might lock up when I need to do something later.”

His hand extends, palm up. A silent offer. “Let me.”

You study him, head shaking at his sudden offer. “So’lek, I can’t-.”

Fingers brush lightly against your calf, eyes steady. “I am offering to help. Give your fingers a break, let me.” He waits, moving only when you nod lightly, fingers wrapping under your knee to pull you a bit closer. You do an awkward shimmy as he lays your leg flat over his lap, waiting for you to settle first.

You knew he would be gentle, his actions over the last few weeks had solidified that knowledge. That doesn’t stop the small reaction to how soft his touch was. Fingers gingerly pressed above and below your knee, moving in small circles. “Is this too hard?” His words snap your attention from his hands, a light flush crawling up your neck.

“No, it feel nice.” He nods, palms flattening some against your leg. Letting the heat from them settle down through muscle into the bone, easing more tension. It really did feel nice.

___

Nose crinkles slightly as you squint, eyes scanning the sky line and ignoring the bright sunlight beating down on the abandoned site. The rifle’s strap digs uncomfortably into your shoulder, metal warm against your hip. A constant reminder of what could happen and a welcome weight, if you were being truthful.

You can hear Priya muttering behind you. Can hear the others working as quickly as they could. If you were being honest, you’d been torn about coming out here. Between Priya’s earlier comments during the rush, ‘No one would blame you or think badly if you needed more time’. And Anqa’s not so subtle questioning, ‘You sure you’re good to go? Nalin gave the okay?’. 

A small part of you knew they were right, knew that no one would look at you differently. That didn’t change the fact that you being here, out where anything could happen, was important. Not just for you, but for the others to see that you weren’t something the RDA had broken. That you were still in this fight with everyone else. Also didn’t change the fact you’d almost smacked the both of them upside the back of the head for their comments. There was no way you were going to let them risk their necks while you sat back.

And there was another matter playing a factor in all of this. Time. Of course it would’ve been great to have more time. More time to process everything that’s happened, more time to deal with personal issues. But time was a luxury. One that you, and anyone else, couldn’t settle into anymore. There had been enough time to wallow, enough time to process the immediate issues. And there would be time after. Time you could use however you needed.

But for right now you needed to step back into place and step up where everyone needed you to be. Step up where others had failed and were no longer trusted. That was more important now than ever as Mercer’s shadow continued to grow and cover this land.

A familiar cry fills the air, accompanied by heavy wings touching down and soft familiar steps. Your lips twitch, hand raising to block the beating light behind the welcomed shadow. “Took you long enough.” 

A small scoff, “I was a little preoccupied, Keke.”

“That sounds like an excuse.”

Tamtey just shrugs, “It’s the truth. I’ve been pretty busy as of late.”

Your hand drops to poke at his stomach, feeling a small swat on your knuckles. “Right, yes, of course. Can’t demand too much of our local diplomat lest you fly away before I can say three words to you.”

You watch him straighten slightly at the title, pleased to be seen as such. To fill that role his people held for so long. Then his expression shifts to the gravity of the situation. “Priya called, said it was bad.”

All notes of teasing leave your face. Pri was right, this whole situation was bad, really bad. “It is. It’s really bad, Tamtey. She’s up on the platform there.” Tamtey goes to move then pauses, eyeing you a bit too closely. “Seriously, go on.”

What little hesitation that held him back vanished, “You’re feeling okay?”

You smile, hands gesturing up and down, “Never been better, Tam. Now go before Anqa’s distraction wears off.”

Tamtey’s hand reaches out, squeezing yours before going to see how he could help. You wait until he’s fully out of ear shot before sucking a hiss in between your teeth. While So’lek had helped immensely earlier, there was still a dull lingering pain that would flash when you moved too quickly.

Frustration fills you, from your toes up to your eyes. This had to stop. You had to get this under control before more people started to notice. It was bad enough you’d actually told So’lek earlier, while leaving others in the dark. And you were sure Nalin and Tamtey were getting close to seeing through your lies too.

You just had to hold on long enough to stop Mercer and Harding. Once they were gone, wiped fully from this world, then you could relax. Divulge the pains you’d kept hidden under noses and take the verbal lashing from your friends and family.

Yeah, once you had your family back.

___

You find him crouching in front of the memorial wall, same time he always did. Bitter regret and guilt sits low in your stomach as you watch him from the airlock. You knew he wouldn’t be upset with you, not for any of the things you’d decided you were guilty of. Though that didn’t stop the small quiet voice inside.

If you’d just been a little faster in recognizing something was wrong. If you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own problems. If you hadn’t been so blind to the growing issue, had been able to help Priya warn people, then maybe the lives lost would’ve been halved. Maybe you wouldn’t have to watch friends mourn loved ones that could have been saved that night.

Quiet steps lead you over, crouching down next to him. “Hey, Jin.”

He doesn’t look over to you, eyes glued where they were each and every time. “Hey.” Nothing else is said for a while, both of you just looking. Remising the lives you’d known. The lives that were no longer there. Reliving pain. Learning to put it away. He breaks the silence first, “You know, I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry I haven’t said anything until now.”

“I’m sorry, Jin. If I hadn’t been so spaced out, if I’d paid just a little more attention.. things might’ve been different.”

“You can’t blame yourself, you know that.” He elbows you lightly to draw your eyes over, “Besides, Dani would’ve hated it if she knew you were blaming yourself.”

He was right. If there was anything Dani was known for it was stopping ‘the BS’ in its tracks. Those were the exact words she’d use. The thought makes you smile. It’s all too easy to picture. She’d stand in front of you, pointing and wagging her finger to prove her point. ‘There’s nothing you could’ve done to change the outcome. What’s the point in shouldering blame that was never yours to begin with?’

“She was really good at calling people out for shouldering too much, wasn’t she?”

Jin shakes his head, “Yeah, Dani was good at it. Really good. I once told her, in another life, she would’ve made a half decent therapist.”

The thought of Dani sitting in a chair all prim and proper while people pay her to help work through their problems amuses you way too much. So much that it makes you laugh. Hard. Like one hand to your stomach and the other resting on the cave wall to balance yourself kinda hard. “Dani? A therapist?”

“She laughed when I said it too. Said she wasn’t made to listen to people’s problems just call ‘em out.” A smile tugs at his lips, remembering the face she’d pulled when he’d said it. The absolute dumbfounded smile of someone who knows they’re talking to someone half stupid for even suggesting the idea. “Still, maybe with different life experiences. I could maybe see it.”

“Oh yea, she’d push some big ‘ole glasses up her nose and click her pen. Telling people exactly what they should say to family that screws them over.” You finally control a bit of your laughter, “She would’ve never taken anyone seriously enough to give good advice or actual guidance. She was way too much of a tough love kinda gal.”

That pulls a quiet laugh from Jin, the situation all too easy to picture. “Can you imagine her just chucking the notepad when someone ultimately pisses her off?”

Eyes lock onto Dani’s photo, staring back. You can almost see the downright displeasure in her eyes at the topic. “Absolutely.”

The laughter eases into something comfortable. Something that didn’t need to be broken unless chosen. And Jin almost chooses not to, almost decides the words were unnecessary. Unwanted by both. You watch from the corner of your eye him fighting with himself. Do I? Do I not? It’s written all over his face. 

Then he decides. “Don’t take this the wrong way but,” he takes a deep breath to focus emotion better. “Teylan’s done something that can’t be forgiven.” Your eyes drag over to him when he turns his head to face you. “I don’t think I could ever forgive him for this.”

You don’t respond. How were you supposed to? How could you sit there and defend his actions? His decisions. So you don’t. You let Jin sit in the betrayal, knowing it wouldn’t matter even if you did defend your youngest brother.

Some things just can’t be forgiven.

___

You’re left alone for the second half of the day, busying yourself. Pulling one rifle from the rack, pulling it apart, cleaning it, putting it back together. Then repeating. Over and over again. The repetition was nice, something to focus on that wasn’t crippling pain or guilt.

Small footsteps come up behind you, choosing to stop a few feet away, standing quietly. Eyes stay trained on the barrel you were currently cleaning, fingers curled tighter then they should’ve been. Movements jerking some under scrutinizing eyes. “What do you want?”

“You don’t have to be happy to see me but it still hurts seeing you do this to yourself.” Alma’s voice was unwelcome and unwanted. Yet, that never seemed to stop her before.

“I don’t feel anything when I see you, Alma.” Cloth pulls free, cleaner than you’d thought it’d be. “All I’m doing is making sure our equipment works, how is that a bad thing?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You forget that I’ve known you for most of your life. I know when you’re hiding things.” She has the audacity to wag her finger at you like you’re a child.

You do what you can to ignore her, clicking the bolt back in place before setting the gun back on the rack. “Is that so?” Pulling another one off and stripping it to clean.

Her voice carried over the magazine that was stuck, watching you struggle to not break it before it clicks free. “You aren’t going to just hurt yourself when you finally collapse, you’ll hurt everyone who cares about you too.” 

“Oh, are you including yourself in that?” Legs shifted slightly to the right, dragging her boots into your peripheral.

“I know that I’ve been cruel to you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you kid.”

You peek one eye down the barrel, seeing some of the buildup resting inside. “Right, I forget that you naturally threaten those you care about. My bad, I’ll do better to remember that in the future.”

“That was jealousy.” Small fragments of frustration pops through before she reigns it in. “It’s something I am trying to work on.”

Fingers twist a new rag, pushing it down the barrel. “So you knew and still chose to take it out on me. Yeah, that makes it so much better, Alma.”

“Just,” she chews on her bottom lip, clearly searching for the right words. Careful for once. “Think about the others too. The kids have lost so much already, I don’t think losing their,” the next words are laced with barbs. “I don’t think losing their sister will bode well with everything that’s happened.”

“It’s war Alma,” eyes finally rise to meet hers. “People die all the time.” You watch her long enough to make sure she understands the underlying tone in your words. This time, you were threatening her. This time, you wouldn’t have her back in a fight.

Priya’s voice breaks the tension. “Hey, we got another fissure site. We’re heading out now, if you want to come.”

Eyes still burrowing into Alma’s, “I’ll meet you guys at the Samson.”

___

You don’t hear him come up behind you. Don’t even know he was there until a hand wraps firmly around your wrist, tugging you down the worn path just out of ear shot. Ignoring the looks people give each other behind your backs. Ignoring Anqa’s warnings that you have to leave soon and your own protests.

“So’lek, what’s wrong?” He pauses, watching a herd of Meer deer run off into the brush. “So’lek, I have to go soon.”

His grip softens, fingers shifting to almost rub along your skin. Your voice helps to calm the storm starting to brew inside before he remembers why he pulled you away. Alma’s words sitting present in his mind, ‘You know something is going on with her. If she goes out now, she’s going to get herself or others hurt, maybe killed. Talk to her, So’lek, she might listen to you.’ Lingerings of people noticing something was off, that something was wrong. Saying something to him knowing that you just brush off concerns with a painted on smile.

“So’lek?” 

His eyes shift down to your knee, the secret you’d shared with him just days earlier. Entrusted to him. Fingers tighten again at the thought of something happening, something far away he would not be able to help with. “The pain. You are not controlling it.”

The words visually stun you, blinking at him. “I’m doing just fine.”

“No, you are not. There are whispers, people are noticing.”

“So’lek, where is this coming from?” Your hand twists up, fingers soft against his forearm. “I’m fine, you know this. I would’ve come to you if I wasn’t.”

His hand shifts further up, thumb brushing over sensitive skin. “It is showing to those who are paying attention.”

So’lek watches the cold realization creep down your spine, tail turning stiff. “Did.. did Alma put you up to this? Did she say something to you?”

Fingers tighten, “She has said something. She is not the only one.”

Your mind struggles to wrap around his words, make sense of the fact he was trusting Alma’s judgment over yours. “So you just take her word for it? Over mine?”

“It is showing to those who are paying attention. Those that care.” Pulling you closer, hand raising to your other arm. “If this pain is persistent, if it is a genuine issue, then you cannot go.”

You jerk back in his hold, eyebrows pinched tight. “Excuse you?” 

“It is not something to be ashamed of, pain is natural, a part of life. But you have to know when to listen to your body. Not go diving head first into a fight.” Palms run up your arms to your shoulders, trying to ground you. The thoughts he knows are a swirling mess inside your head. “You should stay here, where your family is. Rest and stay safe.”

“No one is safe, So’lek. You know that.” Your eyes harden, color darkening with your mood. “Do you not trust me? Do you really think I don’t know my own body? What I can and cannot handle?”

“That is not it. A few weeks ago, this was not your body. This is not something you can handle. Not now, when you are still coming to terms with everything. Finally accepting who you are now. Having these pains.. I cannot allow you to throw all of that away just to fight.”

His words hang heavy, building on the wall forming between you. 

“Oh, I see now. This isn’t about the fact that no one thinks I can handle myself.” Your finger jabs into his chest, ears pinned down against your head. “This is about you still hating the fact I’m a dreamwalker, even when this wasn’t my choice.” The crack in your voice breaks something inside So’lek. “You promised me, So’lek. You promised me you wouldn’t say anything and now you’re throwing that trust back in my face.”

“I did not break that promise. Tamtey has asked multiple times now if you are truly okay, as has Ri’nela. They are not as blind as you would believe them to be. But I did not tell them the truth. I did not tell anyone who has asked.”

“No, you just confirmed to them that something is wrong though. That’s close enough.”

Fingers tighten again, pulling you closer. Trying to make you see reason. To see his side on this. Instead, his next words do nothing but cement your resolve. “Please, do not go. Stay.”

“No, So’lek, that’s not your decision to make.”Arms raise to push him off of you, the warmth from your skin lingering on his palms. “I am the only person who can decide that. Not you. Not Tamtey or Ri’nela. Not Priya or Anqa.” Your finger digs into the cool metal of his chest plate, tip turning paler with each name. “And definitely not Alma. I decide what I can handle. Me.”

His face remains controlled, still set in his thoughts. Decision made. “You are still experiencing pain, this will only get you hurt.”

A frozen moment passes, then another. Your finger, that was still pressing into his chest lifts quickly, almost brushing against his nose. “Don’t you dare say anything to Tamtey or Ri’nela. And if I find out you told Alma,” he watches how your breath shakes and your eyes turn misty. “If I find out you told that,” watches you take a shaky breath in, face scrunching in anger. “That bitch anything, then I will not forgive you. Keep the promise you made to me. The one I shared because I placed my trust in you to not turn this back around on me. To not use it to keep me on the sidelines while everyone else is out risking their lives.”

A quick push of air leaves his nose, his hand raising to push yours out of his face. “I am not-.”

“Yes, yes you are.” Your voice lowers, eyes flicking to the others loading equipment into the Samson. Getting ready to leave. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. I am not something to own, So’lek. To control. Speak to me like that again, and I will never speak to you again.”

So’lek feels his heart still at your words, ears twisting back. “I do not-.” He pulls in a deep breath letting the accompanying sigh push him a step back. Lets his frustration rise to yours. “You were barely standing when you came back from the last fissure site. How much longer do you think you can hide this?” His tail stiffens behind him and fingers flex to reach out again. “What do you think will happen if the RDA attacks, rains down and pins you in place?” 

“There’s no reports to think we’d have any contact with the RDA. No sightings of soldiers, amps, any RDA of any kind-.”

“There is always a possibility.” His voice cuts through yours, watching your tail start to thrash back and forth. A small sense of desperation fills the air and he steps forward again, crowding in close. Close enough for his breath to wash over your face. “I do not want to see you get hurt.” His voice lowers, “Or killed.” 

He hopes the words he does not say reach you, ‘I would not survive it.’

You take a step back, shrugging and shaking your head. “Then don’t look. This decision isn’t yours to make, whether you agree or not.” This time, Priya’s voice calls over asking if you were still coming. “Gimme a sec, Pri.” He doesn’t move when you go to step around him. Doesn’t try to stop you anymore. “I’m going.”

“You are.” His expression hardens back into something controlled, something unreadable, when you look at him once more over your shoulder. Every word exchanged ricocheted between you, making the bond you’d had, the trust, feel miles away. He stayed rooted in place long after you boarded the Samson. Even longer after it raised off the ground and disappeared from view.

Thoughts plaguing him with every second that passes. He should’ve insisted more. Should’ve made you see what you were doing was going to get you hurt or killed. Another thought jumps forward. Maybe he should’ve made his feelings more clear. Surely that would’ve opened your eyes to his desperation to keep you safe. Alive.

His eyes drift down from where you’d disappeared behind clouds and the mountain's edge. No, even if he’d laid out exactly where his feelings were you still would’ve gone. Still would’ve insisted on taking your place among them. It brought a small smile to his face despite his feelings on the matter. It was so undeniably.. you.

You’d better come back in one piece. Back to your family. Back to him.

___

The wind was strong today, whipping loose hairs up against your eyes. Didn’t really matter what way you turned, they were going to be in your way regardless. Sitting on the small jutted ledge, left leg dangling just above Priya and a few others gathering samples. There wasn’t supposed to be RDA activity here yet. But with them, you never knew.

Your mind was occupied, thoughts drifting far away from the plains. From the friends you were meant to be watching over. Too wrapped up in the conversation, the argument, you’d had earlier. Consumed by the fact that So’lek seemed to have so little trust in your judgement. To place more value in Alma’s thoughts over your own. It left a deep pit sitting in your stomach.

If he had just talked to you about it, talked to you about concerns he clearly had. Had told you he was worried instead of demanding you sit off on the sides. Choosing to see you as this weak thing that couldn’t handle anything.

You’d thought he had more faith in you, in your abilities. Had thought after all this time, after fighting side by side, that he would’ve trusted you more. Had thought.. had thought he was starting to like you. He’d been so gentle with you, had been opening up and willing to spend his free time with you. Sit and talk with you. Even though you were in this body now, you’d thought he didn’t care about that.

Clearly you’d been wrong.

Low, chopped whirring cuts through the air dragging you to the present. Eyes watch the slow moving bird cutting through the sky. That’s not a good sign. “Hey, Pri?” 

At first all you get is a noncommittal hum, much too distracted. It takes another prodding of her name to get her attention, “Yeah?”

You jerk your head up, pointing. “I think we got company.”

She follows your finger pointing at a wyvern flying by, too close for comfort. “I think we’re fine. They should be high enough to not see us.”

Your eyes stay locked on the aircraft, almost certain it looks like it’s slowing down. “I don’t think so, Pri.”

You’re quick to jump down, peaking out under the large rock to get a better look. Yeah, no, they were definitely slowing down. “Maybe, they’ve finished their route and are heading back?” Her radio crackles, “Tamtey? Oh, yeah things are going great. We should be heading back soon. Oh, that? Just a patrol that passed overhead, but they should be too far to see us-.” Immediately the aircraft turns around, mocking her and making her eat her words. “Yeah, no, they’re turning around.”

Words said earlier are heard again, echoing at the edges of your mind. ‘What do you think will happen if the RDA attack?’ 

“Quick everyone hide!” Priya rounds the others up, grabbing what equipment they could drag inside the small cave with them. The sound of rotors getting closer makes them move faster. Priya is the last to stand in the mouth of the cave turning to you. “You coming? They’re getting closer.”

What would happen? Guess now’s the time to find out. “No, go with the others. If it comes down to it and Tamtey takes too long, I’ll give you guys time to escape and rendezvous with Anqa.”

“What? We wouldn’t leave-.”

“Kinda don’t have a choice Pri.” Your hand pushes between her shoulder blades, “Go, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

Priya looks over her shoulder before ducking into the cave, “You can’t promise that.” She was right, but it wouldn’t be smart for everyone to hide together. The whirring was getting closer and closer. You had to move, now, or they’d spot you for sure and you were not about to lead them to the others.

Cool, damp walls press uncomfortably into your back as heavy steps are carried across the wind. Amps and soldiers, maybe ten total. Static crackling is loud in your ear, pulling attention away from the soldiers walking past. “Keke, can you hear me?” 

You press further back into the mouth of the cave, as an amp passes by, gun swinging to and fro aimlessly. Two soldiers flanking it on either side, talking loudly without a care. “Hey, didn’t you say you saw a blue here?”

“I don’t know, everything blends in together when you’re that high up.”

“If there is one, I call dibs.”

“Not how that works man. It’s kill or be killed. First come, first serve kinda deal.”

More static accompanies a slightly frantic voice, “Keke, are you there? What’s happening?”

Fingers raise, voice low and controlled. “RDA’s here. There aren’t many, less than a dozen.”

“Are you safe? What about the others?”

“They’re hiding, RDA hasn’t found anyone yet.”

“Can they get away? Meet up with Anqa?”

“No, their exit is cut off.” Another soldier passes by oblivious to your hiding spot. “Are you close?”

“I’ll be there soon, wait for me.”

Eyes peak out around the rock walls, following the closest patrols. “The largest rock in the middle, I’ll meet you at the base facing the cliffs.”

You press back as another soldier passes by, “Are you sure?”

“Tamtey, I won’t let them find the others. If I have to engage, I will.”

A sharp sigh makes your comms pop slightly, “Fine. Stay low and stay safe.”

“You too, keep Temek quiet and fast.”

“She always is.”

Two minutes. You allow two minutes of watching the patrol routes they establish before you go to move. Waiting, watching two soldiers pass by each other, pausing for a few moments side by side. Chatting loudly before walking in the opposite direction.

Quiet feet creep forward, one after another. Keeping as low to the ground as you possibly can be, using your hands to help shift weight through tall grass. Freezing when a soldier passes by before moving again. Creeping slowly through the tall tickling grass lining the rocks. Slowly working your way towards the cliffs.

A rustle comes from behind forcing breath to still, one hand reaching back to rest on your gun. Something that people never seem to realize, smaller feet make a lot of noise if they weren’t careful. A lone soldier comes walking up from the cliff side, fiddling with his belt, yawning loudly.

His eyes lock on yours, shock resting for a moment before he goes to raise his gun. A small shout is cut off by your left hand wrapping underneath his mask-covered jaw. Your right hand raises without thinking, resting on the opposite temple. Right hand pushes while the left hand pulls hard and quick. Small hands fall down and silence wraps around you again. Hard swallowing pushes down the bile rising in your throat. 

That was the first time. The first time you’d ever killed someone with your bare hands. The first time you’d felt the life leave someone. Felt heat dying, watched eyes lose focus. Caused something so violent without pointing a gun.

Footsteps break the all consuming thoughts. They were softer, larger. Then a hand touches your arm, eyes shifting between you and the soldier still in your hands. “Keke, are you okay? Where’s Priya and the others?” 

You look at him for a second, dragging the soldier into the tall grass. Hiding the evidence from immediate view. “In the cave, the one under the largest rock. It won’t be long until the RDA starts poking around there.”

“Do you know how many there are?”

“Less than ten.” You gesture to the grass, “He’s the only I’ve come into contact with.”

“What do you think?”

Eyes flick over him, thinking. “I’ll draw their fire, cause a distraction.” Your hand pulls at the rifle’s strap, “This is all I have. It’s loud enough to make them think there’s only one threat.” 

His fingers play with the drawstring digging into his chest, “While I sneak around, taking them out one by one.”

A playful smile greets his cheeky one, “Exactly.”

___

Cool, misty air sits lightly in your lungs as you draw in deep breaths, rolling your neck. You’d hated the thought of sitting inside, where heavy air made everyone restless while waiting for the clan leaders to arrive. It was better to take the few moments of peace you could before having to deal with.. Eyes flick open, watching mist curl through the trees and around the rock walls.

You weren’t ready to deal with Alma and her faux concern. And you certainly weren’t looking forward to being around So’lek right now. There’d been enough time since your ‘talk’ to calm down. Been more than enough time to reconcile if you’d wanted. But there also hadn’t been enough time to erase the words he’d chosen. To erase the feeling sitting low in your chest, squeezing your heart.

His words sat heavy on your mind, making you wonder if they were his or Alma’s. You didn’t want to believe that the moments shared over the last few weeks, the time shared, was misread. That you’d misread the underlying tone of it all.

A loud voice interrupts your thoughts, “Ah, ma ‘eylan, it is good to see you alive and moving again.” You know that voice. You look up, seeing the pair dismount their ikran.

“Nesim, Minang, it is good to see you both.” The smile was audible in your words. 

Nesim stops in front of you while Minang sends you a small smile, working her way inside first. “I am sad that we only meet in times of war. When this is all over, come to the plains. We will make a Zeswa out of you yet.”

You shoot her a teasing smile, “Careful Nesim, or others will think you are soft on me.”

“She is soft on you.” Minang’s voice carries from just inside the cave's mouth, mocking her sister.

“A leader knows when to be soft and when to be strict.” Her eye flashes in a teasing manner. She was joking with you.

“Come, I am sure Tamtey would like to see you.” You both walk together into the cave, spouting short banters back and forth. It may be a time of war but every moment that wasn’t weighed down with it was welcome. You pay no attention to the eyes watching you from across the room.

Nesim does. “You have a second pair of eyes today.”

“There are many eyes that worry for me. This is my body now.”

She pauses at that. “You live as this?” You nod, not looking at her. The hiss of the air lock is nothing compared to the silence of her understanding your situation. “Good.” This draws your eyes back to her. “Eywa has seen something in you if she has gifted you this life until your last days. Better that, then dying before I can see more of those colors you have.”

A snort leaves you when you both continue inside. “Haven’t seen enough?”

“I have only half my vision ma ‘eylan. I will need to see more to believe it was you.”

Ri’nela’s voice calls the both of you out of your joking. “Everyone is here, come.”

The meeting was heavy, the gravity of the situation hanging clear as day over everyone around the holotable. Ri’nela’s voice carries that heaviness further, “Mercer’s next excavation will destroy much of this land.”

Nesim cuts in, agitation clear in her words. “Then what are we waiting for? We should thunder through their gates and drag the little man from his hiding place.”

Ri’nela’s head shakes, “Mercer’s base, it’s impenetrable.” 

“Then our ikran will bring death from above.” The Aranahe’s Olo’eyktan was quick to vouch for his clan’s strength in air support.

So’lek argues back, “You see these turrets? We’d be cut from the sky.”

Minang joins in, “Are you saying not even a storm of Zeswa could strike a worthy blow?”

“My people know what it is to struggle alone. There is strength in unity. Aranahe, Zeswa, Kame’tire, and Sarentu.” Anufi’s voice was gentle, calling for a unified strike.

Tamtey’s voice cuts through the clan leader’s debating. “Tsmuke, what do you think?”

It was uncomfortable as their eyes settled on you. The way some eyes softened as they looked at you, understanding on a level that made your skin crawl if you thought too long on it. The way new ones settled apprehensively, uncertain about the dreamwalker they’d never met before. Only hearing through whispers on traveled tongues and from Tamtey briefly.

Their eyes settle on you, wanting your opinion. Looking to you now as a leader, for expertise. It was a role you’d been forced into. But one you couldn’t ignore. “Ri’nela and So’lek are right.” Fingers pull up clear images of Mercer’s drill, the sentry and anti-air turrets plainly shown. “While these are operational, no one is getting inside. We wouldn’t be able to attack Mercer’s base head on even if we tried. We have to find another way in or a way to take down these defenses so we can get inside.” Your fingers tap Priya’s shoulders, “Priya, you said you found a weakness in his system?”

Her shoulders snapped straight as she fiddled with the holotables’ system. “Mercer really stepped up his game. See these sensors? It’s a sonar defense system. Which sounds scary, and it is, but get this. It uses an unsecured connection. A weak link! Silly, right? I mean, if someone flies up there and scrambles their system, Alex can hack in from somewhere nearby. We can disable the drill!”

Tamtey nods, “I’ve seen those before, I’ll do it.”

“Then we will fly with you, support you.”

His head shakes, “Thank you, but with those sensors, the fewer the better.”

Ka’nat’s voice is heavy with the next question. “And if you fail?”

Your voice cuts through, “Then, be ready to move your people. We’ve really only got one shot with this.”

You stayed glued to the holotable as the others filed out. There was still so much to do, plans to make, backups to consider. The cloud over your head seemed to grow as you considered more scenarios, more situations and tactics that Mercer could use. Would use. He wasn’t going to take it lightly once this plan was in motion. You just hoped Alex would be able to work fast enough to get him offline before he made a move with that drill.

You’re so consumed in your thoughts, flicking between images, that you don’t hear quiet footsteps. Only noticing when fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you away from the table some. “Tsmuke.” Tamtey’s voice is soft, ready for you to pull away.

“What is it, Tamtey?”

He sighs, fingers tightening. “What’s going on?”

You blink, caught off guard by his forwardness. “What do you mean-?”

“Cmon Keke, you can’t really expect that Ri’nela and I don’t see something is on your mind. You know us too well to see when we’re lying and we know you. So, out with it.” The annoyance in his words is palpable. Uncomfortable.

You watch him for a moment, torn. “Tamtey, really, it’s nothing bad.”

He grabs your other wrist, pulling you to fully face him. “Then tell us! We’re supposed to be your family, people that rely on one another.” You watch his brow pinch, ears and tail falling. “Are you, are you still mad about the transfer? Is that why you aren’t speaking to us? Avoiding us?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Your hands are gentle, palms resting on his cheeks. Deciding to give him some truth, “I’m just worried. About your brothers, where they disappeared to, if they’re safe. Mercer and Harding. What they’re trying to do to this land.” Hands shift from cheeks to shoulders, pulling him in close. Hand resting on the back of his head, thumb brushing against his temple. “I’m worried what facing them head-on could bring, to all of us, but especially you and Ri’nela.” Tamtey relaxes some into the hug, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. Head dropping heavily on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose anymore of this family.”

This time, you hear another set of soft footsteps, “You won’t, we won’t allow it.”

Ri’nela accepts the hand you extend, dragging her into the hug as well. “I love you both, so very much. It would kill me to have anything happen to you. That’s where my mind has been. I’m sorry my worry allowed you both to think I was mad at you, for any reason.”

Reassurances are muffled against your shoulders, sinking further into the embrace. It really wasn’t okay, your half truth, but you’d let it all slide for now. There was so much to focus on and you wouldn’t distract them more than necessary.

Pulling back to look at them, palms resting on opposite cheeks, eyes flicking between them. “When Alex is ready, you fly as hard and as fast as Temek can. And you stay safe, Tamtey, do you hear me? Ri’nela and I will be watching over you from here.”

“Yes, Keke.”

You smile, letting them sink a bit further into your hands before pulling away. “I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can have dinner together tonight, if you want?”

Ri’nela perks up immediately at that, “I learned a new recipe from one of the Kame’tire I’ve been wanting to try.”

“Perfect.” Watching her drag Tamtey behind her, shaking your head. 

Feet carry you quickly upstairs, hoping you hadn’t taken too long and missed her. Tight shoulders relax some as you walk outside, seeing the small conversing huddle a bit further down the path. “Nesim.” She turns from the group, gaze softening slightly at seeing you.

“Ah, little warrior. Come to bid me a farewell?” She places a hand on her sister’s arm and nods to Anufi before making her way over to you.

A smile worms its way onto your face, “That and other things.” You look over her shoulder at the two Tsahìk’s still in conversation. “I didn’t mean to pull you away, I could have waited.”

Nesim waves off your comment, “They are talking about healing, herbs and wrappings. I am not a healer, their talk bores me.” The corner of her mouth lifts, “I am much better suited at hunting and fighting.”

“Of course, how could I forget.”

Your smile falters as you remember why you followed her out. “Nesim, I am so sorry about your people. Their loss was unnecessary, a cruelty.”

Nesim allows your words to settle between you, silently observing you. You can hear soft words carried on the wind from halfway down the trail. Then her hand raises, palm resting on your shoulder, squeezing. “We will kill many when the time comes, little warrior. The Zeswa will not let this go silently.”

Another moment of silence wraps around you both, her palm warm on your shoulder. You debate with yourself for a moment before deciding to lighten the mood some. “You know you can’t keep calling me ‘little’, Nesim. We’re the same height now.”

She snorts, “It does not matter what form you take, little warrior. You will always be smaller.” To prove her point, her hand raises to rest on your head. Then drags it through the air, tapping the side of her fingers in the middle of her forehead. “See? Little.”

Eyes are drawn to movement. Yours to Minang ending her conversation over Nesim’s shoulder. Nesim’s to a lurking shadow over yours. 

You smile softly, poking a finger at Nesim. “I will have to concede for now, but don’t expect me to drop it. I am barely shorter than you.”

In your attempt to keep the atmosphere light, you completely miss the stiffness in Nesim’s expression. Smile just a bit too tight to not match her words, gaze focused still on shadows. “Barely is enough.” Her gaze softens when it meets yours, “I look forward to seeing you fight for the people again.”

She makes a point of touching your shoulder again, this time both hands resting slightly longer than necessary, before turning to join her sister. Thoughts race as you watch her walk away, flooding your ears with roars. A question that you’d meant to save for later demands to be asked. Now.

“Nesim,” You almost falter when she stops and looks back. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

❁ I do not give consent to feed my work into ai. I do not give consent to copy, repost (stealing my work), translate, or publish any of my works in any way. ❁

PS: if im missing anyone from the tag list pls let me know and i’ll fix it asap. pretty sure i got everyone but my brain’s been scrambled lately so who knows

pairings aged-up neteyam x tayrangi!female warrior

notes reader is ikeyni’s daughter, mean neteyam (dw he will grovel for this <3) crybaby neteyam, angst, she fell first and he fell harder, smut (p in v), oral (f&m receiving)

synopsis neteyam has always been the only boy who stirred your heart. as a man, he is everything you’ve ever wanted... and now that circumstances have finally drawn you closer, it feels like the perfect chance to make him see you. but with the looming war, the firstborn son of toruk makto has no room for distractions, and he won’t hesitate to push aside anyone who threatens his focus.

word count 17.7k

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

You leaned against one of the massive pillars of the war pavilion, idly braiding a strand of fiber for your new knife sheath. Usually, your senses would be filled with the smell of salt and moss that clung to the cliffs of your home in the Eastern Sea, but here, in the rainforest, it was mostly choked out by the heavy stench of fuel and burning forest, and around you, the war council was deep in debate.

Your mother stood tall with the other chieftains, gesturing sharply at a large map laid on a long table. Beside her stood your brother, the future Olo’eyktan of your clan, listening intently.

And then, there was the real view.

Neteyam stood just behind his father, Jake Sully. He was taller than most of the men in your clan, broad-shouldered, and muscled, taking after his father, even though he had the fierce beauty of his mother. He was listening to the strategy with that maddeningly intense, perfectly disciplined look he always wore. Always the dutiful son, the perfect soldier.

You bit your lip, a slow smirk spreading across your face. He was so incredibly handsome it was ridiculous, especially when he looks like he carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that intensity... To be the subject of his focus and determination.

You shivered at the thought of it, and your brother caught your eyes across the table. He noticed where you were staring, rolled his eyes, and mouthed, “Stop it.”

• pairing: neteyam x reader

• warnings: injury

• summary: Neteyam realizing he’s in love with you after you get injured during training and he completely loses his composure for the first time in front of everyone.

The humidity of the Omatikaya rainforest clings to your skin. High above, the canopy filters the sunlight into jagged shards of gold and emerald, casting dancing shadows across the already full training grounds. Neteyam stands with his spine in a rigid line, his bow gripped in a hand that never trembles. He is the golden son, the blueprint of a warrior, the one who never miss a mark and never lets a slip of emotion breach his composure.

Beside him, you move with a fluidity that always make his chest tighten. You aren't as disciplined as he is, but you possess a raw, instinctive grace that mirrors the jungle itself. You catch him staring and flash a grin, your golden eyes shimmering with mischief.

"Still trying to figure out how I keep landing hits on you, Neteyam?"

Neteyam shifts his gaze forward, though the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "You rely on luck and chaos. It works until it doesn't."

"Chaos is just a strategy you haven't mastered yet," you counter, stepping closer. The scent of crushed ferns and rain follows you. "Admit it. You're bored of being perfect. You want to see what happens when you let go."

"I am not bored," he replies, with steady voice. "I am focused."

"Focused on what? The way my body moves when I'm about to strike?"

Neteyam finally looks at you, his expression neutral despite the drumming of his heart. "Your tail is a giveaway. You're telegraphing every move."

You laugh, a bright, melodic sound that echoes through the trees. "Then stop watching my tail and start seeing me."

The training session intensifies. Around you, other young warriors spar, the air filling with the rhythmic thud of wooden staffs and the sharp cries of exertion. Kiri watches from the sidelines, her head tilted, a somewhat intriguing expression painting her face.

"Again!" Jake barked.

You move. Neteyam blocks your strike, the wooden staffs clashing with a sharp crack. He steps back, circling you, his mind calculating your trajectory. He likes this—the dance of combat, the way your breaths synchronized in the heat. But more than the fight, he likes the way you challenge the walls he have built around himself.

"You're thinking too much," you whisper, your voice a low vibration. "Stop being a soldier for one second. Just be you."

"I am me," Neteyam grunts, sweeping your leg.

You tumble, rolling across the mossy earth and springing back up in one seamless motion. You are breathless, a stray lock of hair clinging to your damp forehead.

"Is that all the mighty warrior has?" you tease, though your chest heaves.

"I'm just warming up."

"Prove it."

You charge again, but this time, the environment betrays you. As you pivot for a high strike, your foot catches on a slick, protruding root, hidden beneath a layer of decaying leaves. The balance you usually maintain vanishes in a heartbeat. Your momentum carries you forward, not in a controlled strike, but in a desperate, uncontrolled fall.

Neteyam reaches out, his hand closing on air.

The sound that follows is sickening. A sharp, wet thud. You don't scream but a stifled gasp still escapes you. You simply collapse, your arm twisted at an unnatural angle as you slamed into a jagged outcrop of rock. A deep gash opened along your forearm, the crimson blood stark and jarring against your striking blue skin. You are losing a lot of blood.

For a second, the world went silent. The other warriors stopped. Jake froze.

Neteyam feels something inside him snap. The discipline, the composure, the carefully maintained mask of the perfect son, it all shattered like glass.

"Y/N!"

He doesn't walk; he launches himself toward you, his knees hitting the dirt with a force that bruise. He doesn't care. He doesn't see the crowd gathering. He doesn't see his father, Jake, approaching with a look of concern. All he sees is the blood and the way your eyes are clouded with shock.

"Don't move. Don't you dare move," Neteyam chokes out. His voice, usually a pillar of strength, was now a frayed wire.

You try to shift, a small moan escapes your lips. "I'm... I'm okay. It's just a—"

"Shut up! Just stay still!" he snaps, his voice cracking.

The crowd gasps. Neteyam has never raised his voice in anger, and he has certainly never lost his temper during a training exercise. He is trembling, so hard, that the shakes are evident on his entire frame.

He rips a strip of cloth from his own waist, his movements frantic, almost clumsy, and presses the fabric against your wound, his fingers slick with your blood.

"Neteyam, go get the healers and let them handle it," Jake says, reaching out to touch his son's shoulder.

Neteyam flinches away from his father's touch, his eyes wide and wild. "Get back! Just go get the healers! Now!"

Jake recoils, stunned. He has seen his son face down multiple predators and the terrors of war, but he has never seen him look this terrified. This isn't the fear of a soldier; it is the raw panic of a man watching his entire world bleed out on the forest floor.

"I've got you," Neteyam whispers, his forehead dropping to touch yours. He is sobbing now, the sounds jagged and guttural. "I've got you, Y/N. Please. Please be okay. Please."

You look up at him, your breath coming in shallow hitches. You have always seen Neteyam as the untouchable prince, the boy who carries the weight of the world without a grimace. Seeing him broken, seeing the tears streaming down his face and the desperation in his eyes, sends a different kind of shock through you.

"Neteyam," you whisper, your voice also trembling. "You're... you're crying."

"I can't lose you," he gasps, pressing the bandage harder against your arm. "I can't. I didn't tell you. I didn't tell you yet."

"Tell me what?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. He just clings to you, his large hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you from the eyes of the village. He is shaking so hard that you could feel it through your own skin.

Kiri arrives with the healers shortly after, gently pushing Neteyam aside to treat the wound. For the first time in his life, Neteyam doesn't argue. He doesn't lead. He simply stands by, his chest heaving, his hands stained red, watching every movement of the healers with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He loks like a man who had just survived a shipwreck, clinging to the only piece of driftwood left in the ocean.

Hours later, the sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the forest bathing in a ghostly, bioluminescent glow. The plants pulse with soft purples and neon blues, mirroring the heartbeat of the world. You lie on a woven mat in the healing hut, your arm bound in clean linens and treated with pungent herbs.

The curtain flutters and Neteyam steps inside. He looks exhausted. The rigidity is gone, replaced by a heavy, lingering sadness. He doesn't say anything at first; he just sits beside you, his eyes scanning your face as if checking to ensure you haven't vanished.

"You scared everyone, you know," he says softly.

You smile weakly. "I think you scared them more. I've never seen you yell at your dad."

Neteyam looks away, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "I lost my head."

"You didn't just lose your head, Neteyam. You fell apart. Don't ask me how but it was actually kinda attractive."

He lets out a short, breathless laugh, finally meeting your eyes. The humor fades quickly, replaced by a solemnity that made the air between you feel thick.

"I thought you were gone," he whispers. "I know it was just a fall, just a cut, but for a second... the world went dark. I realized that if you weren't in it, there was no point in being perfect. There was no point in any of it."

You reach out with your good hand, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I don't know how to do it," he admitts, leaning into your touch. "My life is a list of expectations. Be a leader. Be a warrior. Be the example. I don't know how to love you."

"Maybe just stop following the plan," you suggest.

Neteyam closes his eyes, a single tear escaping. "I don't want to be a blueprint for my dad anymore. I just want to be yours. After today I'm never leaving your side."

You pull him closer, guiding his head down to your shoulder. He collapses against you, the weight of his hidden emotions finally finding a place to land. He breathes in the scent of the healing herbs and your skin, his grip tightening possessively.

"You're an idiot," you murmur, kissing the top of his head.

"I know," he whispers back.

"A very dramatic idiot."

"Probably."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his golden eyes searching yours. The vulnerability is still there, raw and exposed. He doesn't hide it this time. He doesn't mask the longing or the fear. He leans in, his movements slow and tentative, giving you every chance to pull away.

When your lips finally meet, it isn't the polished, perfect kiss of a prince. It is desperate and messy, tasting of longing. Neteyam groans into your mouth, a sound of pure relief, as if he was finally breathing after being underwater for years. His tongue sweeps against yours, claiming you with a hunger that spoke of months of suppressed desire.

You wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him flush against you. The friction of your bodies, the heat radiating between you, ignited a spark that have been simmering since you were children. Neteyam’s hand slids down your back, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding himself in the reality of your presence.

"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a rough, honest rasp. "I love you so much it terrifies me."

"Good," you whisper, pulling him back for another kiss. "It terrifies me too."

Neteyam smiles, a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. For the first time, he doesn't isn't putting on a performance to please anyone. The golden son has finally cracked, and in the wreckage of his perfection, he has found something far more valuable.

He stays by your side throughout the night, your fingers intertwined, watching the bioluminescent forest pulse in rhythm with your shared breath. The pressure of the clan, the weight of the war, and the expectations of his bloodline still exist, but they feel distant now, small and insignificant, compared to the girl in his arms.

As the first light of dawn filters through the canopy, Neteyam kisses your forehead, his expression one of absolute peace.

"Next time we spar," he whispers, "I'm not letting you get hurt anymore. I promise."

"Oh? And how do you plan to do that?"

part one | part two

this is a reader x neteyam sully (tho reader has a name), I hope you enjoy it! this wasn't supposed to have two parts but it is so extended, nearly 16k+ words but please let me know if you want a part two... anyway, english is not my first language, sorry if anything is wrong or misunderstood.

the omatikaya children were difficult to separate from the forest itself.

they grew between roots thick as rivers, beneath curtains of moss and glowing spores, with dirt beneath their nails and leaves tangled into their braids. every child of the clan carried energy in different forms—some quieter than others, some wild enough to make the adults sigh whenever they vanished into the trees again.

ne’geza belonged to the second kind.

daughter of two respected hunters of the clan, she had been known since infancy by nearly everyone in high camp. her father, tsmukan, had fought beside jake sully during the battles against the sky people, a fearless scout known for crossing territory alone and returning with impossible information. her mother, sa’eyla, was one of the clan’s finest trackers, calm-eyed and sharp-tongued, the kind of woman even older warriors listened to carefully.

their daughter inherited both tempers.

“slow down!” ne’geza hissed, turning sharply enough that her braids whipped over her shoulder.

behind her came the loud snap of feet against wet roots.

“make me.”

a hand yanked her queue braid harshly from behind.

“ao!” she barked, spinning around immediately.

kxan—all elbows, fangs, and smug expressions—only grinned wider at her outrage. his ears tilted sideways mischievously while his tail flicked against the back of his calves in amusement.

they had known each other since before memory. before proper words. before hunting lessons and clan duties. their mothers joked eywa herself must have tied them together at birth purely to cause problems for everyone else.

he shoved her shoulder while walking past.

she shoved him harder.

he laughed.

“you walk too slow.”

“you speak too much.”

“you glare too much.”

“i should push you into the river.”

“you already tried last week.”

their arguing echoed beneath the trees while sunlight filtered through moving leaves overhead, broken into pieces of gold against their blue skin.

the river nearby sang softly against stone.

ne’geza’s irritation slowly faded the closer they got.

because the river was beautiful today.

clear water slipped over smooth black rocks covered in glowing green algae, the current carrying floating seeds and tiny lights downstream. fish darted beneath the surface in silver flashes. the stones beneath the water looked polished by eywa herself.

her ears lifted slightly.

without thinking, she crouched near the riverbank.

“…look at these,” she murmured.

kxan groaned dramatically behind her.

“they are rocks.”

“they shine.”

“still rocks.”

she ignored him completely, reaching toward the water. cool river current brushed over her fingers as she picked up a smooth stone streaked with pale blue minerals.

behind her, kxan crouched too close.

“ne’geza,” he whispered irritatingly.

she ignored him.

a tug suddenly pulled at the end of one of her braids.

her ears twitched sharply.

“kxaaan.”

another tug.

harder this time.

her tail lashed.

“stop.”

he snorted behind her.

then came a third pull.

that did it.

with a frustrated sound, ne’geza spun immediately and grabbed for the offending braids without looking.

her fingers closed tightly around several beaded strands.

not kxan’s.

different texture.

thicker.

longer.

her entire body froze.

because the boy she had grabbed was not grinning.

not laughing.

not kxan.

definitely not kxan.

a younger boy stared at her with wide golden eyes, utterly caught off guard, several braids trapped tightly in her fist.

silence.

pure, horrible silence.

even the river suddenly sounded too loud.

the boy blinked once.

his ears lowered slightly from surprise more than anger, tail going still behind him.

ne’geza’s own expression drained instantly.

she released him so fast it almost looked painful.

behind her, kxan made a strangled noise.

then leaned toward her shoulder carefully.

“…that,” he whispered with immense delight and horror all at once, “is toruk makto’s son.”

ne’geza nearly stopped breathing.

her ears flattened so quickly against her head they almost disappeared into her braids.

oh no.

oh eywa no.

the child in front of her rubbed the spot near his braids slowly, still looking more startled than upset. he was taller than her by a little despite being young, lean already in the way forest hunters often became. there was something unmistakable in his face too—the shape of his eyes resembling neytiri, while the calmer expression mirrored jake sully strangely.

neteyam.

she knew immediately.

everyone knew the olo’eyktan’s eldest son.

“i—” ne’geza swallowed hard. “i am sorry.”

neteyam blinked again.

her tail curled anxiously around her ankle.

“i thought— i thought you were him—”

she pointed furiously toward kxan without taking her eyes off neteyam.

kxan immediately lifted both hands.

“not my fault.”

“you pulled my hair first!”

“because your face looked funny looking at rocks!”

neteyam’s ears twitched upward slightly.

a laugh.

small.

barely there.

but there.

ne’geza stared at him in disbelief.

his expression softened almost immediately after, polite in a way many omatikaya children were not.

“it is alright,” he said quietly.

his voice surprised her.

gentle.

steady.

not offended.

if anything, he looked like he was trying not to smile at the situation.

“you grabbed hard, though,” he added after a moment, rubbing his scalp again.

kxan burst into loud laughter.

ne’geza whipped around.

“i will kill you.”

“you almost killed him first!”

“kxan!”

neteyam laughed properly this time.

soft, breathy, surprised out of him more than intentional.

and somehow that made ne’geza even more embarrassed.

her ears flattened impossibly lower while she glared holes through the ground itself.

neteyam noticed.

his tail swayed once behind him.

“…i have had worse happen during training,” he admitted carefully, trying—very obviously—to make her feel less ashamed.

which somehow only made her more ashamed.

because he was being nice.

and she had nearly scalped toruk makto’s son beside a river over shiny rocks.

and with that, years passed.

quietly.

suddenly.

one moment they were children wrestling in the dirt beside roots larger than their bodies, and the next they were taller, leaner, voices softer around certain people.

ne’geza never truly escaped that day by the river.

because from the moment she accidentally grabbed neteyam’s braids and watched him laugh instead of grow angry—

something inside her remained there.

small at first.

then unbearable.

she followed him everywhere after that.

not in secret.

never subtle.

everyone knew.

if neteyam trained with the older boys, ne’geza appeared nearby carrying extra arrows before he could ask. if he returned from scouting, she was somehow there already waiting with water or questions or excitement bright enough to rival the bioluminescence around them.

if he spoke, she listened like eywa herself had opened her mouth.

and neteyam…

neteyam never pushed her away.

that was the worst part.

or perhaps the best.

kxan thought it was pathetic either way.

“you are stupid,” he informed her one afternoon while helping clean fish beside the river.

ne’geza flicked water into his face without looking away from the beads she was threading carefully together.

“and you are an idiot.”

“he barely notices.”

her fingers paused slightly.

kxan saw it immediately.

his ears tilted back a little softer despite his mocking tone.

“ne’geza,” he muttered. “he is olo’eyktan’s son. he is busy all the time.”

“i know.”

“then stop staring at him like a dying hexapede every time he smiles at you.”

she shoved him hard enough that he nearly slipped into the water.

he barked laughter instantly.

“see? that face! exactly that face!”

but the truth was… neteyam did notice.

he noticed when she waited for him after lessons.

noticed when she began learning healing techniques from older women despite originally preferring hunting paths like her parents.

noticed how hard she tried around his family.

especially around neytiri.

ne’geza admired her almost painfully.

she memorized the older woman’s movements during tsaheylu ceremonies, the precision of her prayers, the way she prepared herbs, the softness in her voice whenever speaking of eywa.

she wanted to become worthy of standing beside neteyam one day.

not merely as a hunter.

but as something sacred.

something needed.

sometimes, late at night, she imagined herself beside him in the future.

neteyam as olo’eyktan, strong and calm beneath ceremonial paint while she stood beside him as tsahìk, guiding prayers beneath the glowing tree of voices.

young dreams.

innocent ones.

yet they rooted deeply inside her chest.

neteyam never laughed at her.

that mattered more than anything.

once, after she spent nearly an hour helping kiri prepare medicines despite slicing her own finger twice from distraction, neteyam quietly handed her a clean cloth.

“you do not have to force yourself so hard.”

ne’geza looked up immediately.

“i am not forcing.”

he tilted his head slightly.

she was terrible at lying.

“…maybe a little.”

his mouth curved faintly.

“mother already likes you.”

her ears nearly shot upward.

“she does?”

“yes.”

“really?”

“really.”

“did she say that?”

“not in those words.”

“neteyam.”

he laughed softly when she shoved his shoulder.

small moments like that ruined her completely.

because neteyam was gentle by nature.

steady.

responsible.

he carried expectations heavier than most people understood, yet somehow still made space for others carefully, intentionally. especially his siblings.

especially her.

lo’ak, unfortunately, found the entire thing hilarious.

“there she is,” he would announce dramatically whenever ne’geza approached. “brother, your shadow has returned.”

“lo’ak,” neteyam sighed every single time.

“what? i speak truth.”

“i am right here,” ne’geza hissed.

“yes. exactly my point.”

kiri only smirked quietly nearby while tuk asked loudly if they were going to mate one day.

ne’geza nearly died.

neteyam choked on air.

lo’ak screamed laughing.

but the humans took longer.

much longer.

her father’s distrust had been carved into her carefully since childhood.

sky people destroy.

sky people lie.

sky people take.

even after peace settled more comfortably between clans and the scientists living among them, ne’geza kept her distance instinctively.

the laboratory smelled wrong.

too clean.

too artificial.

the lights buzzed strangely overhead.

every instinct in her body told her to leave.

yet the sully children moved through the space easily now. casually. kiri especially adored learning there, and neteyam often helped transport supplies or messages between camps.

eventually...

after enough invitations,

ne’geza began following too.

cautiously.

always cautious.

norm was patient with her.

so was max.

they never touched without permission. never raised voices. never mocked her discomfort when she stood stiffly near equipment with her ears pinned warily backward.

slowly, painfully slowly, she learned.

human words.

human expressions.

human games.

she still distrusted them.

perhaps always would.

but she trusted the sullys.

and that trust stretched further than fear.

“okay,” norm announced excitedly one evening. “this one is interesting.”

the younger sullys immediately crowded around him.

lo’ak nearly knocked over a chair trying to lean closer.

“what now?”

“a visual reconstruction program,” norm explained proudly. “hypothetical human appearances based on skeletal structures, facial proportions, genetic assumptions—”

“boring already,” lo’ak groaned.

“it means,” kiri interrupted patiently, “seeing what we might look like as humans.”

that got attention immediately.

lo’ak’s ears lifted.

tuk gasped.

even neteyam looked curious.

ne’geza looked horrified.

“why would i want to see that?”

“because it is funny,” lo’ak answered instantly.

“because it is fascinating,” kiri corrected.

norm grinned toward ne’geza.

“come on. just once.”

she almost refused.

almost.

but then neteyam glanced toward her.

not pushing.

never pushing.

just quietly hopeful.

and eywa help her, ne’geza had never denied him anything in her life.

“…fine.”

lo’ak looked triumphant.

“she only agreed because neteyam looked at her.”

“i will throw you into the ocean.”

“see? love.”

“lo’ak.”

neteyam’s warning tone barely hid amusement.

the scans took time.

norm moved around excitedly explaining things half nobody understood while glowing screens reflected across the room.

eventually, a projection flickered alive first.

neteyam.

the room quieted slightly.

human neteyam stared back at them from blue holographic light—darker skin, thick dark curls pulled loosely back, broad shoulders already forming despite youth. his eyes remained unmistakably his somehow. calm. warm. observant.

softer without the sharper na’vi angles.

yet still neteyam.

ne’geza forgot humans were supposed to unsettle her.

because something in her chest softened painfully instead.

oh.

´oh, he is beautiful.´

she did not say it aloud.

could not.

but her stare lingered too long.

curious.

captivated.

neteyam noticed immediately.

of course he did.

his ears twitched slightly while glancing toward her.

“strange,” he murmured.

“you look old,” lo’ak declared.

“you look exactly the same amount of ugly,” kiri replied.

norm laughed somewhere behind them.

“honestly, based on our observations? omatikaya features would probably translate across a spectrum between darker-skinned human ethnicities. african, indigenous, mixed variations maybe. but it is all theoretical.”

ne’geza barely heard him.

she was still staring at neteyam’s projection quietly.

different.

yet not.

then norm brightened suddenly.

“alright. next.”

before ne’geza could prepare herself—

her projection appeared.

neteyam saw it first.

his expression changed immediately.

not dramatically.

that was never neteyam.

but his posture stilled.

eyes widening just slightly.

ne’geza turned nervously.

and froze.

a human girl stared back at her.

brown skin.

dark eyes.

long braided curls falling over human shoulders.

still recognizable somehow. still carrying her expressions, her mouth, her gaze.

just… different.

human.

the room went strangely quiet for half a second.

then lo’ak snorted.

“you still look angry.”

everyone laughed.

even ne’geza a little.

but when she glanced back toward neteyam—

he was still looking at the projection.

very softly.

very quietly.

like he was trying to understand something.

and for once in her life,

ne’geza became shy first.

when they were younger, ne’geza’s devotion had not been subtle at all.

children rarely knew how to hide the things they loved.

and neteyam—

neteyam had always been loved carefully by many people within the clan.

respected.

admired.

protected.

but not like this.

not with the blind little fierceness ne’geza carried in her tiny body.

because while older omatikaya had slowly learned to accept the sully children fully, not every child inherited that maturity immediately.

and children repeated what they heard.

sometimes without understanding cruelty.

sometimes understanding it perfectly.

it happened most often when adults were far enough not to hear.

“half-blood.”

“demon blood.”

“sky person child.”

the words were usually muttered more toward lo’ak, sometimes kiri despite her not even being jake’s daughter by blood, but there had been moments—quieter, uglier moments—directed toward neteyam too.

because his hands were slightly different.

because his eyes looked more human sometimes.

because some children were cruel simply because they could be.

neteyam never reacted strongly.

even young, he carried himself with that same restrained patience. jaw tight. ears lowered slightly. pretending the words slid off him harmlessly.

they never did.

ne’geza noticed every single time.

once, when they could not have been older than eight or nine cycles, she heard older boys laughing near the training grounds while neteyam collected arrows quietly by himself.

“maybe he cannot shoot properly because one eye belongs to a sky person.”

the others snickered.

neteyam’s shoulders stiffened only slightly.

only slightly.

but ne’geza saw it.

and eywa help anyone after that.

she launched herself at the speaker before thinking at all.

a tiny blue blur of rage.

the boy yelped as she slammed into him hard enough to send both tumbling into the dirt.

screaming followed immediately.

hers.

mostly hers.

“say it again!” she snarled, ears flattened violently against her head. “say it again!”

the older boy tried shoving her off in complete disbelief.

“she is crazy!”

“i will bite you!”

“ne’geza!” kxan shouted somewhere nearby, already laughing hysterically while absolutely not helping.

the other children backed away immediately.

because ne’geza genuinely looked willing to kill somebody over this.

tiny fangs bared.

tail lashing furiously.

hands tangled into the other child’s braid while she hissed insults so aggressively even nearby adults turned toward the noise.

neteyam grabbed her eventually.

barely.

“ne’geza,” he said breathlessly, trying to pull her backward while she still attempted clawing at the other boy. “stop.”

“he insulted you!”

“you are making it worse!”

“i do not care!”

she meant it too.

completely.

utterly.

her chest heaved violently while she glared over neteyam’s arm like some furious little forest creature.

the other child scrambled away immediately once freed.

neteyam looked exhausted already.

“you cannot attack everyone.”

“watch me.”

his ears twitched upward despite himself.

because even angry, even terrifying,

she had done it for him.

again.

later, after both received scolding from adults, ne’geza sat beside him high in the trees with swollen pride still burning hot in her chest.

“you should have let me finish.”

neteyam sighed dramatically beside her.

“you nearly broke his nose.”

“good.”

“ne’geza.”

“he was wrong.”

quiet settled between them.

wind moved gently through the leaves overhead.

finally, neteyam spoke quieter.

“…thank you.”

that was all.

simple.

honest.

but ne’geza’s entire expression softened immediately.

because that was enough.

always enough.

from then onward, it became almost expected.

if someone mocked kiri for being strange, ne’geza snapped back immediately.

if lo’ak got into fights, she joined without hesitation.

but when it came to neteyam—

it was different.

more personal.

more instinctive.

she watched him constantly when they were children.

made sure nobody excluded him during games.

sat beside him during meals without fail.

brought him things she thought he might like—polished stones, colorful feathers, carved wooden charms she made badly herself.

once she even cried because another little girl announced loudly she wanted to become neteyam’s future mate.

kxan laughed so hard he fell from a branch.

neteyam, horrified and confused, spent nearly twenty minutes trying to understand why ne’geza suddenly refused to speak to him.

it only became less obvious as they aged because she learned restraint slowly.

learned embarrassment.

learned longing.

but when they were small—

everyone knew.

especially neteyam.

by fourteen and fifteen cycles, things had changed quietly between them all.

not disappeared.

never that.

just… deepened.

their limbs had lengthened, voices softened into maturity, movements sharpened from childhood clumsiness into something more graceful. even their silences carried meaning now.

especially between ne’geza and neteyam.

because as children, devotion had been loud.

at fifteen,

it became sacred.

“you will return before eclipse meal,” sa’eyla called from behind her.

ne’geza barely slowed while tying her satchel over one shoulder.

“yes, mother.”

“that was not agreement. that was escape.”

her father snorted from nearby where he repaired arrow fletching.

“if she vanishes with the sully boy again, she will forget food exists entirely.”

“father.”

yet her ears warmed faintly.

both parents noticed immediately.

sa’eyla’s mouth twitched upward.

“take this.”

a small woven pouch was tossed toward her.

ne’geza caught it carefully, blinking down at the contents inside—dried fruits sweetened lightly with nectar.

her favorites.

“you made these?”

“you forget to eat when distracted,” her mother answered simply.

which meant yes.

ne’geza softened instantly.

she crossed back briefly, pressing her forehead gently against sa’eyla’s shoulder before doing the same to her father.

“i will return before eclipse.”

“alive preferably,” tsmukan added dryly.

“no promises.”

training beneath the tsahìk had become the center of ne’geza’s life by then.

not because anyone forced her.

because she wanted it with all her heart.

the older she grew, the more seriously she devoted herself to the path. she learned chants until her throat ached, memorized herbs by scent alone, practiced spiritual connections beneath glowing trees until dawn touched the forest canopy gold.

mo’at herself had begun noticing her progress.

and neytiri…

neytiri had begun treating her differently too.

less like one of the children endlessly following her son around.

more carefully.

more knowingly.

one evening, after a long hunt and longer training beneath humid forest heat, ne’geza sat stiffly inside the sully family marui while tuk braided flowers nearby.

jake had apparently brought some kind of human skin cream months ago from the scientists.

neytiri remained suspicious of it.

but curious enough to keep it.

“hold still,” neytiri muttered.

ne’geza obeyed immediately.

though cautiously.

very cautiously.

“what is it?”

“for dry skin.”

“…from humans?”

“yes.”

that answer alone made ne’geza’s ears flatten uncertainly.

lo’ak burst into laughter from somewhere behind them.

“look at her face!”

“quiet,” neytiri warned absentmindedly.

cool cream brushed against ne’geza’s cheek carefully.

she flinched.

all the sully children laughed this time.

even kiri.

“it feels strange,” ne’geza complained quietly, eyes squeezing shut while neytiri spread more across her forehead. "why is it moist."

“because your skin is damaged from sun exposure,” neytiri replied.

another dab against her nose.

ne’geza’s ears lowered further in surrender.

tuk giggled loudly.

“you look like a grumpy baby.”

“i will throw you.”

“mother!”

neytiri ignored all of them calmly while smoothing the cream beneath ne’geza’s eyes with surprising gentleness.

neteyam entered midway through it all.

and stopped immediately.

his gaze landed on ne’geza sitting there utterly defeated beneath his mother’s hands, eyes closed obediently while white cream dotted her face.

his mouth twitched upward instantly.

ne’geza opened one eye.

saw him smiling.

and nearly died.

“do not look at me.”

“you look fine.”

“you are lying.”

“a little.”

his smile widened just enough to ruin her entire evening.

and kxan remained unbearable, in the other hand.

that never changed.

he still stole things from her satchel.

still yanked lightly on the end of her braid while passing.

still shoved her shoulder during arguments purely to irritate her.

except now—

they were older.

and older meant awareness settled strangely into the spaces between people.

sometimes ne’geza would catch him staring at her too long before he looked away first.

sometimes his teasing became quieter whenever neteyam stood nearby.

sometimes his laughter faded into something unreadable while watching her gaze follow the olo’eyktan’s eldest son without realizing it herself.

he never said anything.

not truly.

only once.

they sat together high above the forest after patrol, shoulders brushing against bark while bioluminescent insects drifted below them.

ne’geza spoke endlessly about tsahìk teachings while restringing beads absentmindedly.

kxan watched her quietly for a long moment.

“…you really love him.”

she blinked.

as if the statement confused her.

“of course i do.”

so simple.

so immediate.

it hurt him a little.

he laughed afterward anyway.

“idiot.”

she kicked his leg.

he deserved worse.

but neteyam and ne’geza never confessed anything.

there had been no grand moment.

no promises whispered beneath eywa.

yet everyone around them could feel it growing heavier with age.

neteyam sought her instinctively now.

during clan meetings, his eyes searched crowds for her first.

during hunts, he checked whether she returned safely before resting himself.

when she trained late beneath the tsahìk, he waited nearby under the excuse of escorting her home through the forest at night.

their hands brushed more often now.

lingering accidentally.

or perhaps not accidentally at all.

sometimes she caught him staring too.

softly.

thoughtfully.

like he was trying to solve something impossible.

and neteyam—

neteyam never denied her place beside him.

not once.

during one ceremonial gathering, an older woman teased lightly about future mates while glancing knowingly between them.

ne’geza stopped breathing.

neteyam only smiled faintly and lowered his gaze without correcting her.

that alone kept ne’geza awake for half the night afterward.

because in omatikaya culture—

not denying something meant everything.

there had even begun quiet preparation discussions regarding the future.

nothing official.

nothing announced.

but everyone understood someday neteyam would become olo’eyktan after jake sully.

and somewhere within those same whispers, ne’geza’s name appeared too now.

the promising tsahìk apprentice.

the devoted daughter of honored warriors.

the girl forever at neteyam’s side.

it felt inevitable.

like roots intertwining beneath soil long before anyone noticed the trees above had already grown together.

and perhaps that was why the coming disaster hurt so badly.

because right before everything shattered,

they had finally begun looking like a future.

but an attack came with fire again.

just like it always did.

the sky split apart beneath roaring engines, smoke poisoning the clean air of the forest while screams echoed between trees that had stood for generations. the people of the sky returned louder, crueler, hungrier than before.

and with them came fear.

real fear.

not the distant stories ne’geza remembered from childhood.

something alive now.

something breathing down the neck of the clan.

the omatikaya changed after that.

war returned to every conversation.

hunters sharpened blades later into the night. scouts vanished for days. children were called closer to home. even laughter around communal meals became quieter.

and neteyam—

neteyam carried stress differently than others.

he became calmer.

which somehow made it worse.

because ne’geza knew him well enough now to notice the exhaustion beneath it.

she found him one evening near the edge of high camp, standing alone high above the forest while distant smoke stained the horizon dark.

his posture remained straight.

responsible.

always responsible.

but his ears lowered slightly when she approached.

“you should rest,” she murmured softly.

“so should you.”

she moved beside him anyway.

close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

not quite.

never quite.

“mother says the clan is frightened,” she admitted quietly.

“they are.”

“are you?”

neteyam looked outward for a long moment before answering.

“…yes.”

honest.

always honest with her.

that frightened her more than the flames ever could.

the decision shattered everything afterward.

she learned of it accidentally.

voices inside the sully family marui carried louder than intended one night, tense enough that even the forest itself felt uneasy around them.

leave.

the word echoed painfully inside her skull.

leave the clan.

leave the forest.

leave to protect everyone else.

ne’geza stood frozen outside the woven entrance listening to overlapping voices—lo’ak protesting loudly, tuk crying softly somewhere, kiri speaking too quietly to understand.

then jake sully’s voice.

firm.

final.

“we cannot risk the people.”

silence afterward.

horrible silence.

ne’geza stumbled backward before anyone noticed her there.

her breathing turned uneven immediately.

no.

they could not leave.

neteyam could not leave.

her entire body shook by the time she reached home.

sa’eyla rose instantly at the sight of her daughter’s expression.

“what happened?”

“they are leaving.”

her voice cracked apart embarrassingly.

“the sullys are leaving.”

both parents went still.

tsmukan’s face darkened immediately with understanding.

of course he already suspected.

warriors always knew before others did.

“ne’geza—”

“I am going with them.”

the words came too quickly.

desperate.

immediate.

her mother stared at her.

“no.”

“please.”

“absolutely not.”

“mother—”

“you are omatikaya.”

“so are they!”

“they are leaving because they are targets!”

“then they should not go alone!”

her voice broke completely this time.

ears flattening hard against her braids while tears burned painfully behind her eyes.

tsmukan stood slowly.

“enough.”

the single word cut through her immediately.

rare.

dangerous.

her father almost never raised his voice.

“you will calm yourself.”

“father—”

“you think love makes you foolish enough to abandon your clan during war?”

silence.

horrible silence.

because nobody had ever said it aloud before.

love.

ne’geza froze completely.

her father’s expression softened only slightly afterward.

not unkind.

just firm.

“you are fifteen,” he said more quietly. “and hurting. but your place is here.”

tears slipped down her face instantly.

humiliating.

uncontrollable.

“what if they die?”

sa’eyla crossed the space immediately then, taking her daughter’s face carefully between both hands.

their foreheads pressed together gently.

“do not borrow grief before eywa places it in your hands.”

ne’geza cried harder anyway.

the ceremony appointing the new olo’eyktan felt unbearable.

formal.

sacred.

wrong.

tarsem stepped forward beneath solemn chants while leadership passed away from jake before the clan. nobody protested openly.

everyone understood why it had to happen.

that did not make it hurt less.

the entire time, ne’geza could barely breathe properly.

because neteyam stood there among his family already looking halfway gone.

she memorized everything desperately.

the paint across his skin.

the beads in his braids.

the quiet exhaustion hidden behind composure.

she hated herself for memorizing him like someone already mourning.

afterward, chaos moved quickly.

preparations.

goodbyes.

supplies being gathered.

people pretending not to stare.

ne’geza spent most of it numb until she finally found herself standing before the sully family while eclipse painted the forest dark blue.

tuk hugged her first.

crying immediately.

kiri held her tightly afterward too, quieter but no less emotional.

even lo’ak looked miserable beneath forced sarcasm.

“try not to become more annoying while we are gone.”

she shoved him weakly.

then came neteyam.

and suddenly everything inside her chest became unbearable again.

he stood close.

too close.

but not close enough.

his eyes searched her face carefully.

“…you heard.”

she nodded once.

could not trust her voice.

neteyam looked like he wanted to say more.

instead, he reached forward slowly and adjusted one of the beads hanging loose near her braid—fingers brushing her skin so lightly it nearly undid her completely.

“we will come back,” he promised softly.

ne’geza swallowed painfully.

“you do not know that.”

“i do.”

“neteyam—”

her voice cracked again.

his ears lowered immediately at the sound.

behind them, neytiri watched silently with an expression too knowing for comfort.

finally, jake stepped forward too.

“you can visit,” he said gently. “when things settle. if your parents allow it.”

kiri nodded quickly.

“or send messages.”

“send food,” lo’ak added instantly.

“send literally anything except your attitude,” kiri shot back.

the tiny argument softened the tension just enough for ne’geza to breathe again.

slightly.

only slightly.

because the idea of still reaching them somehow—

still existing within their lives—

felt like someone placing trembling hands around the pieces of her heart before they shattered entirely.

she nodded shakily.

“i will.”

then finally—

finally—

she looked directly at neteyam again.

there were a thousand things trapped inside her throat—

none of them escaped.

because neteyam already looked at her like he understood anyway.

and somehow,

that made leaving hurt even more.

So’lek x sarentu!reader (8k words)

A/N: Holy shit, please don't throw stones at me for this taking three months; I truly don't know what got to me. Furthermore, I told you they would reunite, but I didn't say it wouldn't be heartbreaking! This may be my last Avatar fic for a bit but not forever; I still love you all.

Translation:

Tsmuken: brother

Yawne: love or “my” love

Tsaheylu: sacred bond

Warnings: War, grief, violence, mentions of blood, death, and other things. Multi pov. Prisoner of war, very sad, So'lek.

Summary: Captured by Mercer and hidden deep within an RDA mountain base, you’re forced to survive steel walls, isolation, and the terrifying possibility that So’lek may never find you. But grief turns violent when So’lek learns you’re still alive, tearing through mountains, fire, and an entire compound to bring you home.

Prt 1

❁ an expansion on cuddlebug ❁

Summary: How the boys react to an unknown flower and its corresponding pollen.

__

Na’vi Dictionary:

Sa’nu- (affectionate) Mom

Sempu - (affectionate) Dad

‘Itan - Son

‘Ite - daughter

Yawne - beloved

Yawntu - loved one

Yawntutsyìp - darling, ‘little’ loved one

Kelku - home

Tsahìk - spiritual leader/healer

__

A/N: I really just went all in with the pet names didn’t I. These ended up much longer than I originally meant for them to be. oh well. Please enjoy these down bad boys written with all the fluff I could muster. (p.s. So’lek’s part isn’t directly linked to Tsmuke but I did write it with that story in mind. Also, maybe spoiler??, at least one of the names for the children will be canon in that series.)

❁ So’lek: You had been very clear with him, had told him you would be busy most of the day. Fibers that had to be collected for your youngest that was hitting another growth spurt. And initially there had been no issue with that. He would take your oldest children out hunting and you take your youngest with you. Simple. 

So, you went on your way. Basket tucked neatly under arm and against your hip. Your youngest was nestled cozily against your back, sleeping her little life away. Though you weren’t complaining. With your older children, it was only a matter of time until she was old enough to join in the trouble they caused.

The forest was peaceful, tranquil in every way that mattered. Your knife worked steadily, prying loose clusters of varying quality. This was good, the nicest ones would be used on weavings for the children. The not as mature and slightly rough ones would be used to fix gaps in baskets you’d been meaning to fix for a while now.

It was well into the afternoon now. The sun was high, filtering through dense branches and vines. Leaving little pockets of cool shade to combat the heavy humidity and strong sun. Your daughter had been well behaved all morning, barely rustling from her place on your back. Little Pofi, she’d swept her father away the first time he’d held her.

Barely a day went by that he didn’t insist on carrying her, easing your burdens immensely after birth. Now, six short months had passed and this was the first time she’d been away from her father and brothers for so long. The thought brings a smile to your face, relishing in how close your family was. The strength of love passed between parents to children and sibling to sibling.

Quiet fussing pulls you from your thoughts, moving to lightly bounce up and down, back and forth. The movement was enough to lull your daughter back into slumber long enough for you to almost finish your gathering.

“Sa’nu! Sa’nu, where are you?” The loud voice of your eldest makes you pause, knife half dug under another cluster. Another call from your son makes you pull the knife free, tucking it in the half full basket beside you. While your other hand shifts under the small bundle tied to your back as you stand up.

“Ma ‘itan?” 

Small, hurried footsteps crash through the foliage. Then, an unruly head of braids pokes around a tree, relief flooding his face. “Sa’nu, there you are.”

Large steps carry you to your son, placing one hand on his head, checking him over. “Hu’a, what is wrong?” When he doesn’t look at you, your hand shifts under his chin pulling his attention up to you. “Hu’a, I need you to answer me. Are you alright? Your brother and father, are they okay?”

“Ukyo’s fine, sa’nu. But sempu’s acting weird.”

Your brow pinches, “What do you mean weird?”

He grabs your hand, pulling sharply. “Cmon, I’ll show you.”

“Not so hard, ma ‘itan, or you will wake your sister.” The palm that had been supporting your youngest shifts quickly, keeping her as steady as you could with your eldest rushing you.

Your son was quick, insistent. Pulling you further from the fibers you were collecting. Closer to the river’s edge. “Hurry sa’nu!” Your grip adjusts under your daughter, trying to keep up with your son.

A low groan pulls your attention further down the riverbank. There was your second son, supporting a large portion of his father’s weight. Your heart drops at the thought of him being hurt so badly he could not walk without support. “Ma So’lek!” Fingers move to loosen the wrapping holding your daughter, catching your son’s attention. “Hu’a, take your sister.” 

Your feet carry you down through the mud, flicking small bits up your leg that you choose to ignore. Hands are already reaching out, feeling and checking for any reason your mate was like this. “Ma yawne, I am fine.”

“You are not fine or you would not be leaning on your son right now.” Your second child was more than happy to pass his father off to you. Although, you’re sure he soon regretted that as your boys watch on in horror at their fathers actions.

So’lek immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His nose is soon buried along your shoulder, curving up into the side of your neck breathing in deeply. A soft rumble echoes through his chest as his shoulders relax into your hold.

Your hands raise to rest one on his shoulder, pushing slightly away. The other rests on the back of his head, slowly petting the unruly style down into something manageable. “Ma yawntu?”

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to litter small kisses along exposed skin. Ranging from your outer shoulder all the way up to just under your ear before shifting across your face to your lips. Neither of you were shy about showing affection around your children, it was a natural part of life and love. But this was a bit more intimate than they’d really ever witnessed before.

And the reaction was immediate, “Ew, sempu. Leave sa'nu alone.” Two hands start pushing against his hips, trying and failing to pry him off of you. 

“She is my mate, I will love her how I see fit.” He snuggles further into you, arms shifting a bit lower to then lift you slightly off the ground. Forcing you to lean just as much into him as he was into you.

Every question you asked him was ultimately ignored. Seeming to enjoy hearing your voice more then the thought of answering any question on what happened to make him behave this way so openly outside of your family’s camp. So, you turn to your second oldest who was still pushing against his father to free you. Hu’a had come closer, slowly rocking his baby sister against his chest. “Hu’a, Ukyo, what happened?”

Ukyo gives up on his attempts to free you, choosing instead to cover his eyes at his father’s ministrations against your cheek. “It was a flower, sa’nu.”

So’lek takes advantage of the small pause you give, shoving his head under your chin. “A flower?”

“It was big, blue, and purple. Sempu told me to leave it alone but I was poking at it. It sprayed him in the face.” Ukyo’s ears lower, tail wrapping around his leg. “Did I hurt sempu?”

Your hand quickly reaches out to brush through his messy hair, soothing him. “No, ma ‘itan. Sometimes things happen that we cannot control. Your father was just worried about you, was all.” 

“But, now he’s weird.”

It takes everything in you to not laugh at his words. “Yes, but your father has always been weird.” Short grumbling words vibrate against your skin, showing your mates’ displeasure in your words. “And next time, you will listen when he tells you something.”

“Yes, sa’nu.” Your eldest had come closer now, sticking a finger out and poking his brother to ease the tension. It works to a degree, and Ukyo whips around, swatting at his brother. “Stop it, Hu’a.”

Your eyes soften as you watch your children, “Careful boys.” A low hum brings your attention back to the current problem. “Come ma yawntu, let us get you back to Hometree.” Turning your head over your shoulder to your children, “Hu’a, Ukyo, stay close and do not wake your sister please.” 

Small voices agree, trailing right behind the sight of their father clinging close to you. Smothering his face into your neck and forcing the both of you to awkwardly walk back to Hometree and Etuwa who hopefully would know what to do.

There was no doubt So’lek would be embarrassed when his mind was clear later. When he learns the way he clung to you all the way to Hometree. The looks of amusement and bewilderment that painted various faces watching the ‘Dog Tag Warrior’ refusing to let go of his mate. The gleam that overtook Itu’s eyes as he watched you guide your family up to Etuwa. But that was for another day.

❁ Tsu’tey: Cries of the hunting party ring through the trees, announcing their success from the hunt. You’re currently sat in the weaver’s circle, skilled fingers steady, precise. Patiently practicing repeated motions. Over, under, pull, and repeat. It was easy to get lost in the movement and soft conversation.

It was even easier to ignore the sound of growing footsteps. Loud and hurried. There was no reason for you to assume they were heading for you. And there was no reason for Tsu’tey to come here after a hunt. Your courting, while not new, had boundaries. Ones the both of you had agreed on to maintain the required reputations demanded of his stature. Still, new habits were formed everyday. Ones that sometimes ignored previously set boundaries.

So it startles you when large, strong arms wrap around your shoulders suddenly from behind. Pulling you back into a warm toned chest. It wasn’t even a question of who it could’ve been. That earthy wood smell mixed lightly with sweat was one you’d come to recognize at an embarrassing speed now.

“Ma Tsu’tey? Did something go wrong on the hunt?”

He takes a moment to answer, like the words would bite him if he wasn’t careful. “No, missed you.” His arms tighten slightly after his confession, like he was afraid you would be taken away if he didn’t hold you tight.

Conversations around you had dwindled when Tsu’tey had arrived, ready to show their respects to their leader. But now? Now there was a small murmur of giggles that floated around you two, watching their Olo’eyktan cling to you with affection that was normally saved for private moments. On a walk through the forest, after a playful flight at sunset, tucked away along a stream's edge. This was the first time he’d ever shown more than a small soft smile in front of others. You had both agreed to it.

Purple rushes up your neck, painting your cheeks. “Ma Tsu’tey, do you know where you are?” Beadwork sat uselessly in your lap, much too wrapped up in his blatant display to even consider trying to continue.

“With you, ma yawntutsyìp.” His face ducks down, softly breathing in your scent while leaving his coated along your neck. A painfully intimate action.

Your eyes must have looked like they were about to pop out of your head. In the corner, a loud snort bounces off of bark as someone hides behind their weaving. A younger weaver three spaces down has to fully turn away to not laugh openly at her leader’s brazenness. One elder watches on fondly, very happy at the display of care and love.

Somewhere in the back of your mind stood out a phrase Jake had taken to teach you. ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’. You have no idea what situations that should be used in, but this couldn’t be it, could it? Your mind drifts as Tsu’tey’s hands start to knead at your stomach. Thoughts of falling back in his embrace. Sinking into the affection he was choosing to show in front of others and reciprocating to match his level.

Then you’re pulled out of such thoughts when someone coughs. Hands immediately grab at his fingers, stopping his tender actions. You try to turn your face as close to him as possible, careful to keep your voice lower this time. “Ma yawntu, we are not alone.”

Tsu’tey just buries his face on the other side of your neck, giving it the same treatment. “I do not care, they should rejoice. Their Olo’eyktan has found a mate.”

His words feed the blush that has now taken over your face, lips pressing together to hide your enjoyment in his words. “Yes, but there are things we should be careful to show in front of others.” Your words pull a small groan from him. But he doesn’t stop nuzzling you. Doesn’t stop scenting you.

Finally, one elder takes pity on poor, purple tinged you and your unashamed lover. “Come, we will leave them to ‘talk’.” She makes direct eye contact as she starts ushering the others out, adding to your already permanent flush. Most did not bother hiding their smiles as they passed by. Much too amused at the display that had been presented right in front of them.

Silence wraps around you both, leaving only your hammering heartbeat to break the stillness. It takes a minute to fully collect yourself, setting what you’d been working on in a basket to be finished tomorrow. Tsu’tey had not moved. Even better, he’d pressed further into you. Shifted to pull you between his legs, fully pressed against him. 

There was no way you weren’t bathed in his scent by now. You were almost sure that if you were to walk around the clan right now, people would not know it was you without looking first. With a deep breath, you try again. “Ma Tsu’tey-.”

“Yawntu.” 

His interruption made you pause, lips pressing together to hide your own smile. “Ma yawntu, are you sure nothing happened today?”

Tsu’tey is quiet, too occupied with rubbing his cheek on yours at the moment. A gentle prod from you makes him force out words in between rubs. “I found a flower.”

“A flower?”

“I was going to pick it for you. It would have been pretty in your hair.” You feel his brow furrow some, lips curling downwards against your shoulder blade. “It spat on me.”

Several moments pass before you are able to gather your thoughts. “It.. spat on you?”

“A large cloud of pollen. It covered my face. Jake said I looked like a.. like a vektoran lady.” His lips moved awkwardly, not understanding the word or what it meant.

You had no idea what that was, but clearly Jake had meant it as some kind of joke. You would have to ask him later once this had passed. “Is.. is that a bad thing?”

“I do not know.” He finally raises his head to meet your gaze, eyes slightly hazy. “I just know I missed you. A lot. I did not want to wait to see you, to hold you.” Strong hands move to rest on your arms, pulling you to face him better. “I could not wait. I had to see you as soon as I arrived.”

His words make your heart swell. Tsu’tey was not a man of many words and the ones he did use were practical, practiced. These words, they were not something you would have expected to ever hear fall from his lips. 

A hand raises to cup his face, a soft content smile rests on your lips. “I missed you too.” Then the other rests on the other cheeks pulling his full attention. “But, next time something like this happens you need to go to Tsahìk first.”

Tsu’tey fully ignores your words for a moment, pushing his face down into your hold. Then he quietly admits, “Just wanted you.” 

If you hadn’t already melted, those words just turned you into a puddle. “You have me, ma yawntu.” 

It took many promises of affection for him to finally release his hold on you. And many more for him to allow you to gather food from the communal fire alone, forcing him to stand at the edge of the space. It was bad enough he’d acted that way in front of the weavers earlier. If anyone else saw, if Jake saw Tsu’tey like that, you would never hear the end of it. Though, he was more than content to cling to you all the way back to his kelku, settling in for a long night of cuddles and shared affection hidden from view. You just hoped Jake would go easy on Tsu’tey once he came back to his senses.

❁ Tarsem: “Tell me what happened.” Mo’at is currently starring at the scene before her, thoroughly unimpressed.

“We were out gathering what you had asked for this morning. Sap, bark, roots; the good ones that grow down around the river’s bend and well.. he sort of got sprayed.” Silently scolding yourself and asking how you got into this mess. Great Mother, why was this your plan? Were you supposed to die of embarrassment today?

When elaboration does not follow Mo’at prods, “With what, child, I am not a mind reader.”

Your head shakes, movement limited as your kuru knocks into Tarsem’s forehead. “I am not sure, Tsahìk. It was a flower of some kind. Large and vibrant. I have never seen one like that before.”

“I see,” Mo’at turns to the young warrior currently clinging to you like you were the only thing that was keeping him alive. “Come here, child, let me see you.” Her hand moves, showing him where she wanted him.

You wait, expecting him to move to where Tsahìk was pointing. When he doesn’t, you tap him with your elbow, trying to subtly get his attention. “Tarsem, you should let go now. Go to Tsahìk.” Instead, he refuses to let go. Choosing to shuffle you further back into his arms, almost into his lap.

“No,” his voice is muffled, mouth pressed almost fully against the back of your neck. “’s warm. Smells good, like home.” Fingers tighten their hold on your side, chest firmly pressed against your back.

His words send a large flush over your body, appalled he’d said that in front of Mo’at. Who, to your ever increasing horror, was watching his shameless display of affection, clearly less than amused. “I cannot help you if you do not let me.” Another small shuffle shifts you back onto his knees, pushing your feet awkwardly out of the way, still refusing to listen to Tsahìk.

“Happy here.” His breath tickles the small hairs on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. More embarrassment floods your face at the fact that Mo’at was witness to all of this. Maybe the Great Mothers’ plan of death by embarrassment wasn’t so bad after all.

Mo’at’s eyes bore heavily down on the both of you. And while Tarsem was completely oblivious to this fact, you were not. Every second the Tsahìk stared was borderline torture. Why did you ask Tarsem to come with you today? It could’ve been anyone else. But no! You just had to run into him this morning. Just had to think of an excuse to spend time together. And he just had to agree with you, following behind without a second of hesitation. Tucking the basket you’d brought up under his arm.

Your throat bobs, not doubting for a second that you would have to shoulder the blame. Not the numbskull currently trying to blend in with your spine. Or better yet, the growing ‘pride’ of the Omatikaya. Yeah, you absolutely would be blamed for this. The only person who manages to get Tarsem to shirk his duties every now and then. 

Tarsem was a skilled hunter, an even better warrior. The Olo’eyktan had nothing but great things to say about him every chance he was asked about warriors. It was always Neteyam and Tarsem. ‘The best of their age.’ And you did not want to face his wrath if he found out Tarsem was exposed to something while skipping training today.

The invisible weight of the Tsahìk’s eyes lifts for a few glorious moments. Moving with steady grace, pulling various herbs forward, putting some back after a short consideration. Then she turns back, presenting a small cluster of leaves. “Chew.”

Tarsem’s arms tighten significantly around your waist, sinking his face further into your neck. “No.”

You can tell Mo’at’s patience was stronger than yours would ever be. Her hand stays extended, waiting for Tarsem to act the way he was known for. Strong, steadfast, wise beyond his years. When he continues to push his face against your neck, slowly moving back and forth, rubbing his cheek against the crook of your neck, she turns the cluster to you. 

The message was clear, ‘Stupid, stubborn boy. Maybe he will listen to you.’ So you take the cluster, allowing Tsahìk to turn back to things that required her attention. Patients that were willing to listen. “Ma Tarsem, here.” Trying to twist however you could to face him.

“Why do you do this to me?” His head finally lifts from where he’d been hidden for the last two hours. You are almost not quick enough to hide the shiver that crawls down your spine from the absence of his heat. “Do you not like me?”

Your brow furrows some, confused. “That is not why and you know it.”

“Then why?” You had to blink several times to register what you were seeing. Tarsem was pouting. Full on bottom lip jutting out, pouting. It took everything in you to not melt at the sight.

“You do not feel well, remember? You complained of a headache after inhaling the pollen. This,” You wiggle the small bundle. “This will help with that. Then we can go.”

He regards the leaves with high suspicion, eyes narrowing and pout deepening. “You want me to leave you alone? Am.. Am I a bother?”

In truth, this whole thing had not bothered you one bit. In fact, you very much enjoyed the attention he was giving you. Tarsem might be your closest friend, and secret crush, but very seldom does he truly let loose. Sure, he’s looser around you more than others. But he still holds himself the same way he always has. Confident, strong, slightly stoic, and borderline unattainable.

To have this much of his attention on you was a dream. But it wasn’t coming from the part of him you really wanted it from. It wasn’t actually coming from ‘him’. So you bit your tongue, shifting again to face him more clearly. “I want you clear headed. Whatever that flower was, the pollen it released, it is making you act differently.” Voice quiets, embarrassed about what you were going to admit. “I like how you are already, I do not want a different you.”

A deep hue of purple climbs from his chest to his ears, matching yours perfectly. Never had you been so grateful at the large space the healing tent occupied. You would have died of embarrassment if the other healers in there had heard. If the Tsahìk had heard. “You like me?” His voice is quiet, gentle. Almost fitting back into the normal cadence he used. 

You just push the leaves against his lips, praying he will take them and ignore your burning ears. “Yes.”

He almost bites your fingers in his haste, chewing slowly and deliberately. A long silence stretches between you, you watching him chew and him staring down at your hands. Across the tent Mo’at’s voice carries clearly, “Do not swallow them right away. Let them rest in your cheeks until dinner.” Your cheeks flare at the possibility she’d overheard your conversation or that she’d been watching you two.

A small flicker of clarity peaks through the haze in his eyes, nodding to Mo’at’s words. “Yes, Tsahìk.” 

Ash! Reader and arranged marriage husband Neteyam

A/N, this takes place like 5 years after the ATWOW

The volcanic ridge still smoked from the last battle when the three leaders made their pact.

Varang stood like living obsidian, ash streaked across her broad shoulders. Jake Sully spoke with the weight of two worlds. Colonel Quaritch gave a curt nod. A new RDA splinter faction carved through Pandora like a sky-metal plague. No single clan could stop it.

So they would become one.

“The blood of my daughter and your son will bind us,” Varang declared. She gestured to you—her eldest, silent and straight backed. Ash markings streaked your arms, fire opal beads at your throat. You had not spoken. Duty was duty.

Neteyam stood at Jake’s right, tall and steady. His golden eyes met yours. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, nor did you want to. 

The ceremony was brief. Vows spoken. 

The night air carried sulfur. Inside, a small fire pit glowed—your one request. 

The marui felt smaller than it should have, the air thick with the scent of sulfur from your small fire pit and the faint green sweetness of forest moss. 

A single low burning flame cast long shadows across the woven walls. Outside, the village had gone quiet—elders and warriors from both clans keeping respectful distance, as if their silence could bless what was about to happen.

Neteyam stood on the far side of the sleeping mats. His hands moved with deliberate calm as he loosened the ties of his loincloth, letting the fabric fall away. He was already half hard from nerves and thought of having sex for the first time – even if it’s not how he imagined –, his cock heavy between his thighs. He did not look at you with desire. He simply breathed once, steadying himself, then stepped closer.

You removed your own coverings without flourish—beaded top first, then the woven skirt—folding each piece neatly beside the mat the way you had been taught to treat important things. 

The cool night air brushed your bare skin. You lay back on the thick layered blankets, knees parting just enough, arms resting at your sides. Your tail lay still. Your eyes fixed on the dark weave of the roof above.

Neteyam knelt between your spread thighs. For a moment he simply looked at your body like a warrior checking his weapon before battle. He reached for the small jar of oil the healers had left, coating his fingers efficiently. 

He pressed one slick finger inside you, then two, working them in and out with careful, measured strokes. The stretch was already uncomfortable. Your jaw tightened. You stared harder at the roof and breathed through your nose.

When he deemed it enough, he wiped his hand on a cloth and positioned himself. The broad head of his cock nudged against your entrance. He paused only long enough to murmur, voice low and professional, “I will go slowly.”

You gave one small nod.

He pushed forward.

The burn was immediate and sharp. Your body resisted the thick length forcing its way in, the stretch bordering on too much. A faint tremor ran through your thighs. You clenched your jaw harder, teeth grinding, refusing to let even a single sound escape. Neteyam’s breath hitched once—tight control—but he kept moving, sinking deeper inch by inch until his hips met yours and he was fully seated.

For a few seconds he stayed still, letting you adjust. His arms braced on either side of your head, muscles tense. Then he began to move.

It was mechanical. Steady. Nothing more. His cock slid out almost to the tip, then pushed back in with the same even rhythm—again, and again, and again. The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the quiet marui. There were no kisses, no whispered words, no hands exploring your body. His hips worked with purpose, focused only on finishing what duty required. Your own body felt nothing but the continuous burn of being opened and the faint ache building deeper inside.

“Breathe,” he said once, voice rough but still controlled, when he noticed your chest had gone tight.

You obeyed. In. Out. Eyes never leaving the roof then they flicked to his just to noticed that his eyes are tightly shut, like your body is the most disgusting thing. 

His pace quickened slightly near the end—short, practical thrusts. His breathing grew heavier, more strained. Then, with a quiet, restrained exhale, he pushed deep one final time and came. You felt the warm pulse of his release inside you, the subtle twitch of his cock as he emptied himself. 

He stayed buried for only a few seconds before carefully pulling out. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily around nothing. A small trickle of his seed mixed with the oil leaked onto the mat beneath you. Neteyam reached for a clean cloth, wiping you gently but efficiently between the legs, then cleaning himself. 

When he was done, he lay down on the far side of the wide sleeping mat, back turned to you. The space between your bodies felt wider than the forest itself. Your tails did not brush. His breathing slowly evened out. Yours did too.

Neither of you spoke.

You stared at the roof a while longer, the burn between your legs slowly fading into a dull throb, then rolled onto your side facing away from him. Back to back. The fire pit crackled once and settled. Outside, a night insect chirred. Inside, only silence.

Duty was done.

Weeks became months. The alliance held by threads. You lived in the shared marui near the forest’s edge—stone lined fire pit on your side, forest weaves on his. You spoke little. You left the marui only when necessary.

Every night the same ritual: you cooked for him—roasted hexapede with ash seasoned herbs you gathered in secret. You cleaned the marui, mended his weapons, kept the fire steady. Then, when the village slept, he would come to you. He would position you on your back, enter you with the same careful but distant rhythm—his cock pushing in, pulling out, hips working until he finished with a quiet exhale. You lay still, enduring the stretch, feeling nothing but the ache of duty. He would roll away immediately. You slept back to back, tails not even brushing, not a single touch from either of you. 

At first it was obvious: you did not enjoy each other’s presence. He returned from patrols tired and tense; you stayed silent, eyes on your tasks. He tried, in small ways, to help you fit in—showing you which forest herbs soothed the stomach after your fire meals, inviting you to watch young hunters train from the marui entrance. You rarely went. The Omatikaya whispers followed you anyway.

“She is barren,” they muttered when you passed. “Varang’s daughter cannot even give the Sully line an heir. Useless ash blood.” Neytiri’s gaze lingered longest, disappointed. Jake tried to quiet them, but the resentment grew.

Your own Ash people were changing too. Warriors arrived in small groups, merging with Omatikaya and Metkayina outposts. Joint patrols, shared fires, volcanic glass traded for woven nets. Varang sent word: “The clans become one fire. Do not fail us.” You nodded to the messenger and kept cooking.

Neteyam never complained. He would sit by the fire after long days and say quietly, “The stew is good tonight.” Or he would leave a smooth river stone beside your sleeping mat—something warm from the day’s sun. You accepted it without comment. But slowly, the days stacked.

One evening he returned with a shallow cut on his arm from a skirmish. You cleaned it without being asked, your fingers steady on his skin. He watched you. “You do not have to stay inside every day,” he said softly. “The village is safer with you in it.” You met his eyes for a moment, then looked away. “It is better here.”

Another night, a storm howled. You rose to secure the marui flaps against the wind. Neteyam helped without a word. When lightning flashed, he saw the faint tremor in your hands—memories of your volcanic home. He did not reach for you, but he said, “The fire you keep lit keeps the rain from feeling so cold.” It was the first time you felt something close to not dislike.

Weeks later, an Ash scout arrived with news of a merged training ground. You went once, at Neteyam’s quiet request, and demonstrated a fire enhanced trap. 

The Omatikaya warriors watched warily, but one young hunter thanked you when it worked. You returned home and cooked in silence, but that night, when the mechanical mating ended, Neteyam lingered a second longer before rolling away.

He came to you after the meal, it’s not out of the normal for him to come to you for sex every week, you really needed to give him a child, but you couldn’t.

So he tired and tried and tried. And he won’t stop, not until his duty is done. 

You lay back, legs parted. He prepared you with the same clinical efficiency, then entered you in that familiar rhythm of his cock sliding in and out in steady, purposeful strokes. 

You endured the stretch in silence, jaw tight, eyes on the roof once more.

This time, as his hips moved, something in his breathing changed. His thrusts grew slightly deeper, a little less controlled. His cock pushed in and out with the same steady motion, but his body tensed more with each stroke. 

Then, without warning, a deep, broken moan tore from his throat as his hips jerked forward. He stopped for a moment, buried to the hilt, cock pulsing hard inside you. The sound vibrated against your shoulder where his face had dropped. He deepened himself even further with a slow push, as if chasing the last of the sensation. Then he started moving again with shallow, trembling rolls of his hips, dragging it out.

But suddenly he stopped in his tracks.

His whole body went rigid. A harsh breath left him. He pulled out quickly — almost too quickly — his still hard cock slipping free with a wet sound. A thick trail of his release followed, leaking down your thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice strained and rough with lingering pleasure and sudden regret. He hovered above you, golden eyes wide, one hand braced beside your head. “I didn’t mean to… lose control like that. I should have pulled out sooner. I’m sorry.”

You lay there, chest still rising and falling, the stretch and sudden emptiness lingering between your legs. For a long moment neither of you moved. Then Neteyam slowly lowered himself to his side of the mat and turned his back to you.

You rolled away as always. Back to back. Yet the space between you felt fractionally smaller that night, the silence a little less heavy.

Small interactions piled like kindling.

He taught you the names of forest fruits that grew near the marui. You showed him how to sharpen blades with volcanic grit so they never dulled. He defended you once when an elder called you “barren weight.” His voice stayed calm: “She keeps this home. She keeps me fed. That is not nothing.” You heard it from inside the marui and felt a strange warmth in your chest.

You began leaving the marui more—short walks to gather herbs, standing at the edge of training fields. The clan’s whispers quieted when you quietly warned a patrol of an RDA drone using an Ash smoke signal you taught them. One mother whose child you had quietly mended after a fall brought you woven fabric for the marui. “You are trying,” she said. Acceptance crept in, slow as dawn.

You grew more comfortable. The forest no longer felt like enemy territory. You smiled—small, barely there—when Neteyam returned and the stew was ready exactly as he liked it. He noticed. His shoulders eased around you.

Months turned. The sex nights continued—awkward, distant, bodies performing duty. But the days changed them.

One afternoon he returned early from patrol and found you humming—an old Ash fire song—while stirring the pot. He paused in the doorway, watching. When you turned, he said, “That song… it sounds like home for you.” You nodded once. He sat and listened until it ended. For the first time, you did not mind his presence.

Another day, a joint Ash-Omatikaya hunt brought back more meat than expected. You helped prepare it for the village feast outside your marui. Neteyam stood beside you, shoulder brushing yours as you worked. No words. But when the clan ate and someone praised the seasoning you had added, his tail flicked once against yours—accidental, yet neither pulled away.

The resentment from the clan had faded. They saw you now: the quiet woman who protected their patrols, who fed their future Olo’eyktan, who merged her fire with their forest without complaint. Neytiri even nodded to you once in passing.

One night, after a long successful raid against the RDA, something shifted.

Neteyam returned with ash on his skin from the battlefield. You had waited with food and clean cloths. He let you wipe the ash away, your hands moving slower than usual. His breath caught when your fingers brushed his queue.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, voice rough.

You met his eyes. For the first time, you answered with more than duty. You leaned in.

The kiss was hesitant, then deep. His hands—usually so careful and distant—traced your body with wonder: palms sliding over your breasts, thumbs circling sensitive peaks until you gasped. 

“This is okay?” He whispered against your lips.

You couldn’t give anything but a small nod as you feel yourself for the first time getting wet.

He laid you down gently on the mats, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive skin along your queue.

He lingered there, lips brushing the glowing spots where your queue met your scalp, sending sparks down your spine. 

His breath was warm against your skin as he moved lower, pressing open mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder, then down to the soft swell of your breast. 

He took one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling slowly, sucking gently until your back arched and a soft sound left your throat. His hand cupped the other breast, kneading with careful reverence, thumb stroking in time with his tongue.

He continued downward, kissing over the slight curve of your belly, then lower still. His large hands gently parted your thighs, palms smoothing along the sensitive inner skin. 

He looked up at you once, golden eyes dark with something new and deep, silently asking permission. 

When you didn’t pull away, he leaned in and pressed a slow, reverent kiss right at your core. His tongue followed—warm, tentative at first, then more confident as he tasted you, licking long stripes before focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves that made your hips twitch. 

One of his fingers circled your entrance, then slid inside, curling gently while his mouth continued its slow worship. He added a second finger, stretching you carefully, scissoring them in a steady rhythm that built a warm, aching pressure low in your belly.

Your hands found his braids, fingers tightening as quiet moans slipped from you. He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending fresh waves of pleasure through you. He kept going until your thighs trembled around his shoulders and your breathing turned ragged—only then did he pull back, lips glistening, eyes locked on yours with quiet awe.

He moved up your body again, kissing every inch he had touched, until his face hovered above yours. His cock rested heavy and hot against your inner thigh, twitching with need. Only then did he position himself at your entrance.

When he finally pushed inside, it was slow, eyes locked on yours the entire time. No awkward rhythm. Just the warm, full stretch of him and the way his hips rolled with quiet purpose.

You moaned—quiet, breathless, but real. He answered with a low sound of his own, the first time you had ever heard him like that, and the first time he has ever heard you like that. 

He touched you where you needed—fingers finding the spot that made your thighs tremble, whispering, “Let me feel you.” Your tail curled tight under you.

You moved together, bodies learning a new language. Pleasure built slowly, steadily, until it crested.

When you came, it was with a shuddering cry you had never allowed before—your walls tightening around him, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Neteyam followed moments later..

A deep, broken moan tore from his throat as his hips jerked forward. He kept his eyes locked on yours the whole time, golden gaze burning into you even as his body shuddered. He didn’t stop. Instead he leaned down and kissed you hard, tongue sliding against yours while he stayed buried deep, pulsing inside you. The kiss turned slower, deeper, as the aftershocks rolled through both of you. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t want to stop,” he whispered against your lips.

You answered by pulling him back into another kiss.

The night stretched on.

He stayed inside you through the first afterglow, rocking slowly until he hardened again. Then he gently pulled out, sat back against the woven wall of the marui, and guided your head down with a reverent hand in your braids. “Please,” he breathed. 

You took him into your mouth for the first time—tentative at first, then growing bolder as his low groans filled the space. He kept eye contact the entire time, one hand cupping your cheek while the other stroked your queue. When he felt close he pulled back just enough to jerk himself with quick strokes, spilling thick ropes across your tongue with a choked moan, watching you swallow every drop while he kissed you immediately after, tasting himself on your lips.

He laid you down again and slid between your thighs, cock gliding along the slick seam of your sex without entering, fucking the soft press of your thighs while he kissed you breathless. His hands held your hips steady, eyes locked, until he came again, painting your stomach and breasts with warm stripes.

Later he had you on your hands and knees, his hands gripping your hips as he took you from behind. You pushed back against him, moaning into the mats while he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist, lips on your shoulder, whispering your name. 

He came deep inside you that time, hips stuttering, but still didn’t stop—simply flipped you onto your back, hooked your legs over his shoulders, and kept going.

He held you completely in the last rounds—lifting you into his lap, arms wrapped around your back, your legs locked around his waist as he thrust up into you. Your bodies pressed flush together, skin slick with sweat and release, mouths never leaving each other. Eye contact was constant now—every thrust, every roll of his hips, every shared moan passed between your locked gazes. He kissed you through your third orgasm, swallowing your cries, then followed with a long, shuddering groan of his own, spilling inside you once more.

The small fire in the pit had burned low hours ago. Pale dawn light filtered through the marui flaps by the time you both finally collapsed, bodies tangled and exhausted. 

Neteyam stayed inside you for the last slow, lazy rocks, forehead pressed to yours, eyes half lidded but still holding yours. 

His hands stroked your back, your queue, every inch he could reach while soft kisses pressed to your lips, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

He finally slipped free and pulled you against his chest, arms wrapped around you like he never planned to let go. Your tails twined together. His heartbeat thumped steady under your ear.

“I never knew it could feel like this,” he murmured into your hair, voice hoarse from the long night. 

You didn’t speak. You simply pressed a slow kiss to the center of his chest and let yourself stay there, warm and held, the first true light of morning painting the marui walls around the two of you.

Weeks later, the sickness came in the mornings.

The healers confirmed it. You were finally pregnant.

Neteyam’s hand rested on your belly that night, forehead pressed to yours. The clan celebrated—Ash fire drums mixing with Omatikaya songs. But inside the marui, it was just the two of you.

“You gave us this,” he whispered. “Are you ready to be a mother.” He whispers as he kisses his creation in your belly.

You threaded your fingers through his braids and spoke the most words you had ever given him:

“And you taught me the forest could hold fire without burning it away.”

The alliance was no longer fragile. The clans had merged—fire and forest, ash and leaf—stronger than before. 

And in the marui that finally felt like home, two once distant mates held each other, the child between them proof that slow, quiet love could grow even from the hardest stone.

A little rocky at first but it got better … hopefully!

Based off this request!

Dream Hunt analysis

To preface: I understand that it’s used to find one's “spirit animal,” but I think it’s also a vision for an impending event. Seeing as Jake basically saw Hometree getting destroyed during his.

I think this Dream Hunt provides more than just a “spirit animal” to Pumpkin. It also foreshadows what her life will be/has been. Also, I have not read any draft, or have any knowledge on the supposed “The Event.” I am not in the discord server. I will only be analyzing what has been written in the story. I know some future scenes/plots have been mentioned in asks, so I think some of my theories are incorrect because of that. However, in my defense, that has not been written yet, and could be subject to change.

I’m mostly analyzing this from the dream hunt itself. I know that Pumpkin has a conversation with Mo’at about it, in which they both have their own interpretations of it. Then Mo’at tells Neytiri about it, and there’s opinions there. Then Neytiri later reflects on THIS conversation and has more thoughts. So, therein my decision to just analyze the dream hunt. I could go further and pull reference from later parts in the story but I think that would be too long. Ok, let’s start.

The river: the first sentence states that Pumpkin is “walk[ing] along the edge of the river.” I believe the choice or words here already, are necessary to highlight. The river itself is called “the river” instead of ‘a river.’ The way in which the river is referred signifies its importance. But, what is the importance? Perhaps it is a river that has already been mentioned. IIs it the river her and her siblings travel to in chapter 6? Where they are found by a thanator and she distracts it as bait? Is it the river she and her friends jump into during The Storm in chapter 7? It is never stated if they are the same river or not. Could this be a river that has not been mentioned at the time of the Dream Hunt? Maybe it is the river that Neytiri, Jake, and Spider visit in AFAA? It’s not stated but i believe this river is of significance.

The direction in which the river is flowing is also not mentioned. Is Pumpkin walking upstream, or downstream? Is the river rushing rapidly, or a calm stream? Is the riverbank overflowing, or is it in the midst of a drought? Is the river flowing at all? I personally interpret Pumpkin as walking upstream, of a reasonably flowing river. Since she is able to somewhat see her reflection, mentioned later on.

Now what does the river represent? It could be many things. From the passage of time, changing emotions, the forest itself etc. In this context, I believe it represents Pumpkin’s lifecycle. The top of the river being her start, birth. The end; her death. It is not stated whether she is in proximity to the beginning or end of the river. This leads me to believe she is walking along the middle. Thus, despite being considered an adult for completing her dream hunt by the Omatikaya and “be[ing] born again,” she is in the middle of her life.

Since I believe she is walking upstream, her dream hunt/ subconscious uses her past in order to show her future/animal. I think she is walking upstream since her animal is the thanator and it is not mentioned nearly as much after her vision in comparison to her past. Her being in the middle of her life also shows her path isn’t necessarily long. She may not live long if she continues to make risky decisions that sacrifice her safety. She has a martyr complex, and even goes as far to tell Lo’ak in chapter 49 (on A03) that she “wouldn’t be able to handle it if all those years of training were for nothing…if I failed at the one thing I was taught to d[o]— so I step in front of you because I don't want to live with that kind of failure.” She’s willing to die for the sake of her family.

The environment: Pumpkin describes the environment around her as “washed of color, not dark, not empty, just… grey. The water moved without sound. The leaves did not stir. Even the air felt dull, heavy, as though it could no longer remember how to carry warmth.” I have 3 possible explanations as to why this is.

1: the RDA. In A:FOP, the environment surrounding RDA basses, outposts, and the likes are poisoned. The flora and fauna are polluted. At the time of the dream hunt, Pumpkin was already aware that the RDA were coming. She had been training with Jake, so the assumption is that she had the knowledge of how the RDA is poisonous (literally and figuratively). However, there is no mention of fog in the air, so I am not inclined to believe that is the cause of the grey.

2: the Mangkwan. I’m also less inclined to say it’s a result of them, but it’s possible. At this point in the story, there has been no mention of them. As of me writing this (chapter 49) they have not been mentioned directly (if my memory serves me correctly). Obviously, there will eventually be contact between Pumpkin and the Mangkwan. I’m not sure if this dream hunt is supposed to represent the first time the Sully kids confront them in the forest or a different event. I don’t know if Pumpkin will be with the kids, Jake, Neytiri, or on her own when the Mangkwan attack the wind traders. This is another phenomenon in A:FOP FTA where as the Mangkwan attack the Kinglor forest, it becomes destroyed. I honestly don’t believe this foreshadows meeting the Mangkwan as there is no mention of associations with them. Pumpkin also does not see smoke, flames, or ash in the air. She doesn’t smell anything (smoke, burning). She also doesn’t hear the water flowing or the forest in general, much less any fire cracking or Mangkwan adjacent sounds. She also does not hear any wildlife so this could mean that they have been killed/ drawn away by the Mangkwan (or RDA as mentioned previously).

3: lack of faith. Perhaps the forest being grayed out represents Pumpkins lack of faith in Eywa. She therefore doesn’t see the forest as this greater network and is shut out from its beauty, visually. This could be from a multitude of explanations. She could be like Jake, and have doubts in her faith after Neteyam dies. Or be set around the time of scorched earth (killing the 5k+ RDA), with her doubts stemming from her dishonor/disharmony.

Ultimately, the lack of “life” in the forest signifies…something. It could even represent a theory I discuss later regarding her eyes.I’m not as confident in a conclusion here as compared to the river and other things (if this stuff even matters in comparison to the thanator, which I will get to eventually).

Initial feelings: Pumpkin expresses feeling “Her chest ach[e] with absence.” This is the first physical description of any feeling. There is no prior mention of feeling a cold breeze or heat (from the fires of the Mangkwan that I DON’T BELIEVE THIS VISION FORESHADOWS). She continues to describe feeling something missing, and fails to name what.

It could be the loss of Nateyam. She could again, be like Jake (and Lo’ak) and dissociate as a result of his death. She then describes feeling anger. Again, this could be a result of the grief of losing Neteyam.

She then describes feeling anger. She could parallel Neytiri and be overcome with anger at the initial loss from losing him and go on a killing spree on the boat. However, I don’t think this foreshadows the exact moments after his death on the ship, since I think the environment would showcase the ocean or maybe even the metal of the ship. She also feels uncomfortable with the rage, but is perhaps exclusively motivated by it, or blinded by it. Since it’s described as “simmer[ing] low” I think her grief over Neteyam's death will start as dissociation and then turn to rage slowly. That’s assuming the dream hunt is using his death as a catalyst towards the supposed “event” everyone keeps talking about.

I’ve seen “the event” be referred to as a catalyst for something else? Which makes me think that it isn’t the end of the book, or if it is,it’s not the end of the whole story and there will be a sequel? I honestly don’t know.

Initial look into the river (blurred eyes): I think Pumpkin looks at herself to try and discover why she has the feelings she does. Instead she’s met with blurry eyes and blood that isn’t hers. Also, she never mentions looking away from the water and looking down at her body/hands to see if there’s blood on them, so I assume it’s only when she looks at the river she sees it? She says she looked closer for wounds, but I’m assuming that’s through her reflections in the water? Maybe I’m reading it wrong. Her blurry eyes I think of course represent her losing one of her eyes and only seeing blurry objects out of it.

BUT, the fact BOTH her eyes are blurry in the water perhaps foreshadows that “the event” will be her losing her other eye. Thus, being why the environment around her is greyed out in her vision. OR, it represents her losing her faith and she does not pass/look through the Eye of Eywa. OR, perhaps it has to do with Varang and Pumpkin meeting. (I want to talk about her faith/ Varang in a later part).

Leaving the river/ coming back: I think this represents the Sully family and herself leaving the Omatikaya and seeking refuge with the Metkiyina. But she comes back/ doesn't leave for long. Maybe this is “the event.” Her family and brother lay/stay with the Metkiyina while she returns to the Omatikaya (I don’t think this is the event, but her creating her own life away from her family is important, even if it means not seeing Jake all the time. Her relationship with her father is cute but it borders on codependent).

Maybe she is exiled (like Jake in the 1st movie) or puts herself in a self-imposed exile (like Lo’ak’s journey to find Payakan). But she eventually returns. This is also the only time she hears any sort of noise which is “heavy scraping against the earth.” It’s herself/ her claws that drag her back. Maybe it’s her guilt? The duty she feels bound to by her family (ie “sullys stuck together”)? Obviously the claw marks are the thanator.

The thanator: there’s a lot to say here, and I’m not sure where to start. The thanator is everywhere in Pumpkin's life up to this point. In chapter 5, when she goes far into the forest alone for the first time for the archers' thicket, and it lets her go. A warning to not be so careless with her own life. In chapter 6, she goes to a river and baits a thanator into chasing her, to save her siblings. Her self-sacrificing tendencies brush closer to death this time in order to save others. Again, during The Storm in chapter 7, she and her friends get chased into a river. In chapter 9, she almost becomes disabled in the same way Jake did because of the thanator attack. In chapter 14 her first hunt in a thanator. It only makes sense that her spirit animal is a thanator.

Side note: In the first movie, when Eywa hears Jake’s ask for help, she sends the animals of the forest to fight back. We’ve seen the scene where a thanator submits to Neytiri, and lets her make tsaheylu. Could Pumpkin eventually let Neytiri see everything she went through? Her thought behind every action she took? Could it be Neytiri that brings Pumpkin back to her faith? Despite the grief that comes with the thanator, we see it and both Pumpkin will find there is a time when it knows to rein it in. I think this is evidenced by Pumpkin’s first encounter in chapter five when the forest (and the thanator) let her go.

There is never a mention of a physical thanator again after this as of Chapter 49. I checked. The Dream Hunt itself was mentioned during the "scorched earth” arc less than five times. I think Pumpkin’s first hunt being a thanator is mentioned more than any of it (by Lo’ak, enviously of course). It’s also used in typical ways of Na’vi saying (comparing something to a thanator, “poking the thanator,” instead of “poking the bear”). By “becoming” and “walking” the path of the thanator it drove away any physical manifestations of the actual animal (LOL).

The body (and Pumpkin vs Varang): So, the most poignant answer as to who the body is, is Varang. However, I WANT this to be a red herring so bad. I think alternatively, the body could represent Pumpkin’s past self. The body is dragged through the river, which parallels the scene in AFAA where Neytiri is washing the Mangkwan paint off in the river. Maybe Pumpkin is also there, and helps Neytiri save Jake (and Spider). But I have seen author allude to Pumpkin being captured alongside Jake in tumblr asks so…probabaly not. But, this would explain why there is Mangkwan paint. Or, perhaps it’s a different scene on its own, inspired by Neytiri’s change of heart. But, the body has a description of “ritual cuts,” which I can’t imagine Pumpkin having, so it’s most likely Varang or some other Mangkwan.

I think Pumpkin and Varang could have their own interesting connections. They both make deathly decisions based on their traumas. Both do dishonorable acts for what they believe to be for the greater good. Pumpkin killed 5226 RDA (I still can’t figure out if this number has any significance or not) and Varang killed her family/rejected Eywa to lead her people. Pumpkin might view Varang as what she could become if she lets her grief/hate/revenge guide her.

Pumpkin losing her eye and Varang having the eye tattoo must have some sort of connection? If Pumpkin cannot see through the Eye of Eywa (losing her faith) then maybe she will see through Varang’s eye (tattoo). Maybe “the event” is Pumpkin almost joining Varang due to her doubt in Eywa. HOWEVER, I don’t think Pumpkin would join Varang, since she teams up with the RDA. Maybe there’s an initial consideration of a sort of “I see you” through their similar doubt/trauma. Varange could utilize the “strong heart” phrase against her (Neytiri’s always refers to Pumpkin as “her heart”). Varange might see the insecurity Pumpkin has with her relationship with her mom. But, I think Pumpkin would ultimately see through Varang’s manipulation. Sure, Varang is powerful amongst her clan as the sole leader, and is quick to sacrifice her people for her own sake. Varang fears death (see her reaction to Neytiri breaking in and Kiri’s confrontation). Pumpkin does not. She talks about it with Lo’ak how despite getting shot in the head, she’s pretty much willing to do it again for her family’s sake. Or, god forbid there is the risk of getting captured again.

In the end I almost think meeting Varang would cause Pumpkin to lose any doubt she has in Eywa. Seeing who Varang is as a result of trauma would cause Pumpkin to restore her own faith. Also, if she learn’s/ see’s what Kiri is and is capable of, that would restore her faith.

The feelings (reprise): Pumpkin talks about a craving for blood and feeling hollow. She again, is angry. The feelings are described as being wrong, but she could understand where they come from. It scares her, and ultimately is a path I don’t think she wants to follow, but now feels obligated to. Jake trained her with intentions of teaching her how to defend herself. While Pumpkin did learn marine combat skills, she also developed a martyr complex. That’s part of the reason why despite her being an adult and starting her own life, she doesn’t. She’s waiting for the right moment to sacrifice herself. Dying is easy, living is harder (ok Hamilton, I’m going crazy at this point I am reaching so hard).

In defense of the thanator: the general consensus is that the thanator is a violent animal, whose only purpose is to crave blood. That it is a necessary evil in the cycle of life on Pandora. It is the the top of the (land) food chain. Where there is the humble hexapede, grazing on leaves, the bloodthirsty beast that is the thanator will attack. Don’t forget their deranged counterparts, the feral thanator’s. Their kuru cut, beaten, and starved. Somehow more bloodthirsty than their initial states. Is that what is to become of Pumpkin?

I don’t think so. As I said before, the thanator knows when to open its heart and be vulnerable. It’s not a monster, it’s an animal in nature. Some Na’vi clans view it as their token animal and respect it. So’lek mention in A:FOP FTA that thanator’s even enjoy music. They have a connection to the forest. Neytiri is able to bond and tame “the beast.” It probably has it’s own culture and customs. It is merely a product of its environment, such as Pumpkin. It is still a child of Eywa.

Anyway this is all (for now).