hiiiiii rue it's nana sorry I'm too scared to reveal myself have to lurk in the dark I hope you're doing well I saw your post on your main blog 💘 i didn't know you migrated to the avatar fandom so exciting
i love how you characterize neteyam he's my favorite you write him so gorgeous and i was wondering if you could write him some more
nana!!! i miss u it's been tooooooo long!!! just for u i'll write neteyam. since bridgerton p2 is coming out soon this is how i'll celebrate. also im testing to see if my images are causing the content label problem so LMFAO
An Offer from a Gentleman PREVIEW
neteyam x reader | fluff, minor angst
A/N | THE BANNER I MADE IS KILLING MEEE LMFAOOO please tumblr don't censor me anymore. enjoy my offering.
Neteyam stood before you with the steady patience of a hunter stalking skittish prey, ears lifted high, tail swaying in a slow arc that betrayed tension he tried hard to hide. The woven basket he carried was not subtle; brimming with plump yerik berries, their skins glowing a deep violet under the lantern-light, but he held it out with both hands as if making an offering at the Tree of Souls. “Honatsyìp (little cutie),” he said gently, “do not look at me with such suspicion. I come in peace.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Whenever you say that, trouble follows.”
A low exhale puffed from him, almost a laugh, almost a plea. “Not trouble. A plan.” His shoulders lifted as he straightened, adopting the careful calm he used when speaking to his father, though his tail continued to swish with betrayed nerves. “A plan that helps us both.”
You crossed your arms, refusing the berries when he tried—unsuccessfully—to push them closer. “Neteyam, speak plainly. What madness is this?”
His ears twitched, and he glanced aside for a heartbeat, gathering courage. “My parents will not stop,” he finally murmured. “Every day, they ask who I will choose. Every day, they watch me as though I might declare a mate during dinner.” He huffed, frustration tightening his jaw. “I cannot breathe beneath their eyes any longer.”
“That is not my problem,” you snapped, even though sympathy prickled in your chest.
He stepped closer, voice softening. “It becomes your problem only if you help me.”
Your lip curled. “Neteyam—”
“Listen,” he pressed, hands lowering along with the basket. “If we pretend to walk the path of courtship, they will relax. They will believe I have chosen. They will leave me in peace.” His eyes met yours; steady, hopeful, almost too earnest. “And when enough time passes, we end it. Cleanly. No harm to either of us.”
That part made your stomach twist. “So we… fake it. Then break apart.”
He nodded once. “Srane (yes). No joining of lives or binding promises, only a story we tell for a little while.”
Your frown deepened. “Why me? You could ask anyone. Many would fall at your feet for the chance.”
His brows furrowed, and he shook his head at once. “I will not choose someone who would cling to me when the lie ends. I need someone strong, someone with sense, someone I trust.” His expression softened, eyes warming in a way that struck low in your ribs. “Someone who will not be hurt when the parting comes.”
“Still sounds foolish,” you muttered, though your voice had lost its bite.
“Honatsyìp…” His tone dipped, deeper and gentler, a sound he used only with those he held close. “If you do this, you gain much. Others of the clan will see you through new eyes. They will wonder why the eldest son of Toruk Makto chose you above all others. They will think more carefully before overlooking you again.”
Heat pooled beneath your skin despite yourself. “So now you insult me?”
“No,” he said firmly, stepping yet closer. The faint scent of forest rain clung to him. “I speak truth. You deserve to be seen.”
You hated how he said it.. You hated more how he stood there like some flawless carving of Eywa’s own hand. Tall and strong, shoulders lined with hunter’s muscle, tanhi (bioluminescence freckles) scattered like starlight across his cheeks. His braids gleamed with beads of his lineage, proof of the legacy he carried. Every movement of his body was confident but controlled, shaped by years of training and expectation. He was Jake Sully’s eldest, Neytiri’s pride, the golden child who could charm a council elder and outrun a pa’li in the same breath.
He knew how to persuade. He knew how to look at you as though your agreement was written in the air between you, waiting to be spoken aloud.
But you refused to make it easy. “I still think this will explode in our faces,” you muttered.
Neteyam sighed, ears dipping in patient frustration. “Have I ever led you into danger without offering my hand to guide you through it?”
“That is not the reassurance you think it is.”
“And yet it is true.” His voice dropped again, soft as moss beneath bare feet. “Walk this path with me. Just for a while. Please.”
You held his gaze for several long breaths—long enough to see the genuine worry beneath his calm, the weight he carried alone, the hope he placed bare in front of you. It was infuriating. It was unfair. It was Neteyam.
You let out a slow, defeated breath and closed your eyes. “Fine.”
this is some straight ass i apologize nana. I HOPE BRIDGERTON PART TWO IS GOOD THO!!! I THINk i'll revise this scene as i continue to write the whole thing.
